The Monster in the Ravine

Before them loomed a Hobgoblin. It was wearing jagged black armour that covered it's massive body. It was much larger than the hobgoblin Badurad had fought in Guilurant. Its eyes were pitch black and drew you in like an abyss swallowing all light. Its mouth was spread wide with glee. Rage dotted it's eyes and drool fell from his massive mouth like something it had been craving was before it. It's voice slightly snarled as it spoke. It's sword hung down, drooping into the pile of bodies scattered around it. It raised it's nsword high above its head pulling it down forcing the sword down fixing its eyes to Badurad. Badurad rushed forward, dropping his sword and picking up two daggers from the goblins as he streamed forward, streaking through the blood. Every step exploding thrusting him faster than an arrow however the sword still pulled towards him with speed rivaling his own. As he braced for the inevitable impact he saw the rest of the knives floating across the battlefield along with the armour and swarming around John spinning round creating legs and a torso and arms then the battle axe from the ogre flew across making the left arm which swung across blocking the blow as the right arm flew round punching the hobgoblin. Badurad leaped up the armour plunging the daggers into every hinge, every cracking every hole in the arm, cutting it relentlessly, blood spurting from the armour like leaks from a bottle. The screams of the hobgoblin echoing through the valley. Tears ran down the hobgoblin's face as Badurad reached its throat. "Pl…. pl….. Please… please don't kill me!" But it was too late and the daggers plunged through the soft tissue and into the neck of the hobgoblin spraying Badurad with it's blood. The body fell backwards with Badurad still standing on its head. The team, completely exhausted, collapsed. Dropping their weapons and sitting with their backs resting on the wall of the canyon. Badurad decided to look for any stragglers or assassins, killing every goblin that looked alive, staining his sword. Oakley would kill him when he got back the steel was already starting to rust from the blood and snow. He moved deeper into the gorge, the walls climbing above him. Slowly the bodies disappeared before him as he advanced exploring deeper until the sun did not reach. He lit his hand on fire being guided by the crimson flames.

He advanced until he reached a drop. He shot fire down but it didn't reach the bottom fizzling out. But what he did see was terrifying. It was a leg. A hobgoblin leg to be precise. "Ah so limestone fell on you too I see. You've been killing my brothers with extreme skill. I saw what you did to Granite. Defeated by a child I laughed at him. What an idiot I was. Don't get me wrong Granite was weak, the weakest in fact. I well I am the strongest and well my other brothers are off god knows where trying to conquer the eastern federation. But I can see from your flames that you are the wielder of The Hell Flame. Although I don't believe you killed a royal dragon because I haven't heard of that happening in oh a thousand years or so and by what I saw of you battle you are not a true wielder it is a sub par example of that legendary fire. But nevertheless you seem to be able to use it reasonably well. Although I'm afraid magic of that level couldn't take me down. You'd need at least A rank but then again you did kill a Demi Giant so you could prove me wrong. Also it seems your wounds are quite grave and a number of my brethrens blood has gotten into your system. In other words you have no hope of defeating me and even if by some miracle you manage to, you will still die from the blood plague. Although I am not going to let you leave alive so let us fight." The giant hob goblin's face was bigger than the previous hobgoblin he had fought.

The stone ground shifted around Badurad making what seemed to be an arena with a flat plain in front of him. The Hobgoblin's muscles tensed and compacted its huge body shrinking and compacting into a human sized form. It was a man a little older than Badurad with black hair and green skin with a brown hooded cloak that was open in the front and swept out from behind him. His eyes were yellow and shimmered even in the limited light. The hobgoblin had his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and was staring at Badurad with blank, unfeeling eyes. There was no presence from the hobgoblin, only pure confidence. His eyes seemed almost bored as he stared at the injured knight. Badurad's clothes were tattered and singed. His boots were worn and his sword was chipped, dried blood covered his body and there were holes in his clothes. On his left arm purple blotches were spreading out from his arm. [" Badurad, This guy is dangerous. Let me handle him. I can do it."] Badurad nodded and fell back with his mind surrendering to Zel.

With the switch in place flames jumped from Badurads body with excitement. Like a pet whose master had returned. Zel dropped Badurad's sword and walked forward. "Ah it seems the true master of flames has returned, I heard legends of the Hell Flame users growing up. Let's see if you comare." said the hobgoblin life returning to his eyes and amusement springing from his voice. As Zel stepped forward flames spiralled from his feet spiraling up. Then the hobgoblin started to advance rocks trembling on the floor as he stepped the ground cracking slightly. The two pressures clashed fighting before the two had even touched trying to overwhelm each other like invisible swords slashing at each other. They were equally matched.