Downfall

Suddenly there was a crashing overhead, twigs snapping. The body of one of the green-skinned ogres dropped like a boulder, the impact spraying marshy water around on the ground. The nearest ogres howled in anger. Their fellow was clearly dead, his mottled skin a mass of bites and wounds.

Another fell, and Fiona shouted orders to the dazed ogres, hoping some could understand her. One did, the white-skinned shaman Maldred introduced her to. She couldn't recall his name, but she waved to him. He interrupted a spell he was in the midst of casting, and shouted in the ogre tongue in an effort to translate her words for his fellows. A moment later the ogres had regrouped alongside the Solamnic Knight in the center of the clearing, backs together and blades flashing in the meager torchlight. The ground was covered with the severed pieces of snakes, still writhing and snapping, some finding boots to bite, others being crushed beneath heels.

"Maldred!" Dhamon continued to howl from high above. He had managed to climb out on a sturdy branch between canopies, which were draped with snakes. As he made his way toward the trunk, he sliced through a number of them. Other snakes hung from higher branches, and he sidestepped these and occasionally hurled one down as he went. "Maldred!"

"Here! I'm up here, Dhamon!" The deep voice was muffled, but clear enough.

"Keep talking so I can find you!"

Another voice intruded, which Dhamon recognized- Rig's. The mariner also had been captured and carried aloft by the serpents. He seemed to be close by. The moonlight that filtered down through the higher canopies showed the dark-skinned man trussed up against the trunk of an adjacent tree. Four thick snakes had wrapped around him, while a fifth was snapping at his face. Dhamon sliced through another snake as he started toward the mariner, then decided against it and turned instead toward the sound of Maldred's voice. Like a skilled tightrope walker, Dhamon balanced on another branch, leapt to one extending from a massive elm, and edged along, grabbing at the snakes that hung down and using them to help keep his footing. He paused twice to pluck the sword from his mouth and slay a pair of offending black snakes, grimacing when the acidic blood stung his skin.

Maldred was nearly twenty feet above him, tied with snakes to a thick branch. All around him the foliage of the cypress moved, alive with the creatures that were as long as a hundred feet. Dhamon climbed hand over hand up a thin, ropelike snake, slaying it when he'd reached the next branch. Then he sidled in toward the trunk, dodging another pair of black vipers. He used the sword to help him climb, the blade sinking into the wood as he made his way up to Maldred. The snakes were thicker here, sheathing the big man. Dhamon fought his way through a curtain of thin green snakes, then nearly toppled from his lofty perch when he felt one slip down the back of his vest. His free hand groped for the offending snake while the creature bit at his flesh. Finally feeling the snake with his fingers, he tugged the creature out of his vest, flinging it away. He cut through a few more serpents before he reached Maldred. The big man's face was dotted with bite marks, his cheeks badly swollen.

Dhamon started hacking through the snakes as if he were sawing through rope. Green and black blood sprayed him, and he stopped only to bat away a thin one that dropped down and tried to wrap itself around his neck.

"Nearly there," he told Maldred. A large green snake dropped down and clamped its teeth into his exposed thigh. Dhamon jammed the pommel of the sword down hard on the creature's head, stunning it. "Just a few more and I'll have your arms free."

"And that will be a third time you've saved my life, my friend," the big thief managed to gasp. "I'll owe you…"

"Nothing," Dhamon finished. "You helped me gain Wyrmsbane. There. Almost through just a little…" Dhamon stiffened. He felt something tightening painfully around his waist. "A little more," he gasped, as he bent to finish the task.

He hadn't quite cut all the way through the snakes that imprisoned his friend when Maldred finished the job by flexing his muscles and tearing the last one from his body. Gasping, the big man's hand shot forward, fingers closing on the constrictor wrapped around Dhamon's waist and squeezing hard. He crushed the creature, ooze seeping out to stain his massive hand.

"It has no bones," Maldred said, as he brushed the dead creatures away and shakily balanced on the branch. "Sorcery was at work, my friend, and I would love to study this if the circumstances were different. Someone of considerable power has animated the vines."

"Aye," Dhamon agreed, motioning toward other branches where ogres were held. "And that someone is making a mess of Donnag's army."