Part 1 of The Holy Sword:

Swiftwind’s hooves clattered down the pebble strewn ravine that led to the undead lair. Mhoram sat astride Swiftwind, hail and sleet clattering off his armour, thunder pealing overhead and his cloak flying like a banner behind him in the shrieking wind.
His ship lay anchored two miles back at the shore of this icy island. Its crew had braved the stormy seas for their captain and had set up a rough camp awaiting his return.
Mhoram had come to this isle for two reasons; to slay the hated undead, and to gain the fabled Holy Sword.
Ancient tomes found in his previous captor’s now deserted lair had occasionally referred to a long lost sword of great Holy power, dangerous to the undead. The tomes had also said that the sword was guarded by undead legions far to the north east on an isle of ice.
Mhoram had decided to go in search of the isle, and the sword.

Mhoram reached the end of the ravine. A large opening could be seen ahead.
Checking his map, he confirmed this to be the entrance to the undead lair. The place had a dark chill in the air that seemed to seep through the tiny gaps in his armour. He shivered momentarily before steeling his nerve and setting Swiftwind into a trot closer to the entrance.
Mhoram dismounted and took a long length of rope from the horse’s saddle-bag. Then, taking a large metal stake from the bag, he hammered it into the ground with the pommel of his sword. Tying one end of the rope to the stake and the other end to Swiftwind, he gave it one quick tug to ensure it was secure and, just to keep the horse happy, fed him a few apples.
Swiftwind grunted in approval and made short work of the fruit, much as he always did.
With that taken care of, Mhoram took a quick glance around making sure he was alone. Unsheathing his long-sword, he strode defiantly toward the lair entrance.

Inside, the lair was lit by torches that blazed in iron brackets. As Mhoram took in his surroundings, he appreciated that it was not as dark and web ridden as he had imagined it would be, but knowing this only served to make him more uneasy. It meant the place was inhabited by just more than mindless zombies…
In reality, the lair was more like an underground castle with masonry, flagstones and high ceilings. Looking more closely revealed plenty of dark corners where spiders and other such reclusive creatures might lurk.
Mhoram continued down the hall that had begun after descending the steps from the lair entrance. The rhythmical noise of metal on stone as he walked echoed around the stone walls. Every so often he would stop, only to be greeted by an eerie silence.
He hadn’t alerted anyone so far with his clanking, but he decided he might be better off making as little noise as possible as he proceeded deeper into the lair.
Slowly, Mhoram edged forward, his metal boots now making a quieter scraping sound against the stone and not echoing so loudly. Glimpsing ahead through his visor, he could see doorways to the left and right along the hall. They seemed to be open, but still he could hear nothing. Looking further ahead he could see steps in the distance. They lead upward, but the top seemed shrouded in darkness.
Mhoram decided he would investigate the first opening he came to on his left. Something in his bones didn’t feel right, but then again, he was in an undead lair, and he dismissed the thought.
Mhoram inched forward further, going more slowly, more cautiously now. Still he could hear nothing. The open doorway stood just three feet from him. A dim light issued forth from the room inside. Something caught Mhoram’s eye momentarily, a flickering shadow perhaps, but he could not be sure.
He moved closer, the doorway right before him. Glancing at an angle he could make out part of the room inside. Bookshelves were on the far wall, but more than that, he could not see.
Steeling his nerve he rounded the corner to stand in the doorway. He jumped in shock as a skull stared right back at him, mere inches from his face. Its jaw hung open, its eye sockets seeming to stare right through him.
There in front of him stood a skeleton, as tall as he at a full six feet in height. It twitched slightly and Mhoram noticed it carried a rusty sword and a large round shield of bronze.
Mhoram leapt back, his sword held high ready to strike. Something caught his eye again and he looked down at the skeletons shield to notice the reflection of a mummy standing directly behind him.
Smashing his shield into the skeleton sent it flying backwards. Mhoram ran forward, crushing its skull underfoot and whirled round with his sword to strike the oncoming mummy full on in the chest. Again and again he hacked at the lifeless corpse before him until it fell, finally, dismembered at his feet.
Mhoram roared in defiance at his assailants, the sound of his voice echoing all the way through the lair. And the sound of a hundred silent screams came rushing back in answer.

To be continued…

Mhoram sat at the table, deep in conversation with Lauranthalas and Rikku.
Training had been exhausting for all three of them and Mhoram had suggested they all retire to his house for rest.

Rest however, was the last thing about to happen.
Mhoram jumped a little as he noticed a huge eagle sat in the window. It had something tied to its foot.
Mhoram stood up and walked to the window. As he approached, he recognised the eagle belonged to Commander Eason of Cove. This bird was a frequent visitor to Lady Donwin. Obviously the message was meant for her, but then again, Mhoram was curious of what could be of interest at this late hour.
Mhoram untied the ribbon tying the parchment to the eagles foot and unfurled the message. It said...

"Drow attack on Cove! Arm thyself!"

Mhoram wheeled about to Laurana and Rikku who were still in conversation.
"Cove is under attack!" He shouted, "To arms! we must help our allies!"

Mhoram and Rikku snatched up their swords and donned their helms. Laurana tied her bandana and strung her bow.
The three of them flung open the metal doors and raced through the forest toward Cove.
Rikku and Mhoram crashed through the scrub, breaking twig underfoot and sending birds to flight. Laurana moved silently and almost unseen as she floated ghost-like between the trees.

Mhoram's stamina kept him ahead of the rest, and he shouted back to meet him at the gates of Cove.
Before long, Mhoram had reached the gates of Cove. Dark figures could be seen through the gates......They certaily werent Covians! Maybe in all his haste, he had arrived here first? One thing was for sure, there was one Covian he could make out, he was alone, and probaly in trouble.

With not a moment to lose, Mhoram ran through the gate and into town.
"What goes on here!?" he demanded, hoping to stall some precious moments for the others to arrive.
But no sooner had the words left his mouth when a loud shriek, accompanied by a blinding light seemed to rent the air before his eyes. A magical gate floated there, suspended in mid air...They were escaping!
Mhoram ran forward toward the gate, one woman had still to pass through. Maybe he could catch her?
As he approached she whirled round and snaked out her blade, straight towards his throat. Only his combat reactions saved him as he bought up his shield just in time to fling her arm backwards.
Mhoram, enraged by the act, raised his sword aloft and bought it down in force. But the woman was more agile than expected and she darted back, however, she was indeed gashed by the sword on her left shoulder. She let no scream escape her lips though. Instead, she made a cruel smile and her blade snaked out again. This time, Mhorams shield was too far to block the blade.
No matter though, as a streak of black darted through the air, straight through the Drow's arm, forcing her to drop her blade.
Mhoram turned briefly to look over his shoulder. Laurana was stood by the gates, her ash bow leveled in their direction, hand still open where she had released the deadly shaft, her hair flying behind her like a banner in the stormy breeze that had blown up. An expression of grim determination was set upon her face. She smiled briefly, then turned to her left.
Rikku had just arrived, weapon in hand, ready to face whatever threat came at the three of them. She clapped Laurana on the shoulder and stalked toward Mhoram.
Mhoram turned back to the drow, who was crouched low, holding her arm. Her blade was nowhere to be seen though, and before he knew, her blade was coming at him again.
Mhoram smashed it aside and dealt her a blow to her head with the flat of his blade, knocking the Drow out.

Another shriek with a blinding light heralded the collapse of the gate.
The pounding of booted feet heralded the arrival of the Covians. They arrived in a tight group, fanning out to a line to inspect the scene before them.

Mhoram turned and addressed the Covians. "Hail Commander. We received the message you sent and ran here as fast as we could. It seems we arrived just in time. Most of the attackers have left, but I managed to knock one down before she escaped."
"Good", replied Commander Eason, "Thankyou for your quick action".
He and his men approached the still form of the Drow. Before long, his men set to work reviving the Drow for questioning.
Mhoram proceeded to explain the situation to the Commander.

The action was not over though. Gutteral shouts of defiance erupted from the North side of Cove. The attackers were back, and they were setting upon the townspeople.
A number of Covians sprang into action and charged through the town towards the invaders, swords and axes held high, screaming in rage at the drow invaders.

Mhoram turned to the prisoner wanting some answers, judging the amount of Covians running at the attackers enough to repel them.
But the drow was nowhere to be seen!
Revived, and with some inhuman metabolism, she had escape during the confusion! Pounding his fist on his hip, Mhoram cursed aloud and turned back toward the commander, only to find him gone too, with a handful of Covians left behind guarding the gate.

Concerned for the safety of the Commander, Mhoram ran through the town, searching for the covians and attackers.
He didnt have to run for long.
The covians were tight in a block formation, surrounded by Drow.
Commander Eason barked orders left and right of him. Taking control of his men.
"Hold tight men! dont give an inch! we'll hold them here until they lay dead. Remember your training! Keep together!"

Mhoram stared in appreciation of Easons control and in disbelief of the attackers numbers. He hadnt thought there were this many before!
He hadnt a moment to lose, he had to act.
Mhoram turned on his heels and stormed back through the town. Thunder pealed overhead, and rain pounded the town.
He reached the remaining Covians, Rikku and Laurana who were standing watch at the gates.
"To me! To me!" He shouted. "The Drow are attacking the Commander!"

Rikku and Laurana were first into action. Rikku's teeth gritted, her hair matted to her face by the rain. She looked a menacing foe as charged forth.
Laurana hot on her heels, drawing an arrow from her quiver even as she ran.
Covians close behind, and all of them ran through the town towards the enemy.

As they arrived, Commander Eason barked his orders to break into a skirmish, to hunt down the enemy and make them pay for their crimes.

The sounds of battle could be heard all over the town. It seemed the enemy specialised in hiding before striking and retreating to the shadows once more.
The battle raged on, Victory for the alliance of Cove and Knights Hospitaller seeming sure every time, before yet another Drow appeared to strike from the darkness.

Finally, the last Drow was knocked down, with the rest of them either knocked down or fleeing in haste from Cove.

Victory had been decisive, but not without its casualties, with injuries from both sides of the alliance.

Laurana had been poisoned by one of the Drow as she had marked him and hunted him through the town. Fate had not been on her side, but her bravery and courage certainly had, enabling her to rain her tips of steel upon the enemy to throw them into confusion as they fought the Covians.

Rikku, whilst fighting valiantly had also beaten down one of the Drow, and the menacing grin across her face did nothing to hide her satisfaction.

The Covians had fought excellently, showing strength in numbers, iron discipline and were a sight to marvel in the heat of battle.

The day was won, the Covians patrolled the walls once again, and as Laurana, Rikku and Mhoram left through the gates of Cove, they couldnt help but feel proud...............a drink was most certainly in order!