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    Somewhat later, down in the fanged cavern, a ragged assortment of high-elves and one hissing Tabaxi fought for their lives and their prince. They''d formed a circle around Nalderick and Genevera, battling with flashing weapons and explosive magic to protect the Imperial heirs. There was a goblin child present, as well, doing her best to take up where her Grampa had died and left off. Had only a few basic cantrips, but used them until her over-large staff began smoldering.


    Meanwhile, the creatures of chaos flooded the chamber like vile, shrieking rain. Cackling, zipping ifrits, cloakers, and a horde of slavering chuul dropped into the chamber. Valerian impaled two howling beasts with a savage sword-thrust, then kicked the creatures off of his blade, sending them reeling back into their oncoming fellows. Summoned rain of light with his free hand, dousing a few of those cursed ifrits and healing his own minor wounds.


    As the temperature briefly dropped below roasting, Val risked turning to Nalderick. The prince was beginning to shake himself free of the Emperor''s death-shock, and was almost able to fight.


    "Naldo," shouted the northerner, launching a firebolt at something that dropped from above, "we will defend you to last breath and burst hearts, but this torrent of dark-spawn won''t end till the sigil is cleared, down below."


    Over the noise of battle, the prince heard his friend. Drew a deep, unsteady breath and managed to nod. Val had lost enough people to know what Naldo was feeling. How hard it was to claw your way up after a loved one''s closely-felt death.


    Nalderick''s gaze was wounded and hollow, his motions still slow, but he was trying. Behind him, Princess Genevera held tight to a sling, conjuring shot which kept slipping out of her nerveless grasp.


    Meanwhile, Salem moved between shadows, working at the edges with Cap''n to distract and slaughter stragglers. An instant''s surprise and then Salem''s twin, slashing daggers were the last things that greeted dozens of freshly-made gnolls, this side of death.


    Lerendar had gotten the feel of that borrowed sword, by now, and had turned back into the reaping machine that Val remembered, bellowing insults and challenges. No magic, but Valerian kept him covered, preventing arrow-strike or shadow-thrust from reaching his furious older brother.


    Kalisandra fired More-than-she-seems again and again, using an arcane sigil to give her bow a magical, unerring string. Over and over the black, dwarf-forged arrow hissed off, piercing whole rows of charging chuuls with one shot. Time after time, the arrow returned to her hand, glowing with dwarven power and rage. She made eye-contact with Valerian, once or twice, but the northerner was busy defending others and hadn''t time for more than a mage-sent embrace.


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    Lady Solara, whatever her motives, fought like a demon; conjuring a pair of simulacra to make possible more than one battle spell at a time. Titania''s crippling laughter, Glowing manacles, Phantasmal killer and Spirit warrior mowed down hundreds of wraiths and slavering ghouls… but there always seemed to be more of the creatures, with anything that fell in death rising up as a wild-eyed, fresh gnoll. Sometimes even the pieces fought on.


    As for the Imperials, Nalderick''s courtball team fought as a unit, using the tactics of arena and goal-ring to shove blinded chaos-spawn over the edge of the cavern''s deep gash. Roreck, Vashtie, Marlie and Sherlon were much more than four times as strong, working together. Even better, when Valno heeded a signal and boosted their move.


    Filimar, terribly brave, if a bit foolish, had tried following Salem, meaning to keep the Tabaxi rogue safe. Only, he could not keep pace with her shadow jumps, and soon fell behind, finding himself surrounded. Would have gone down, calling out to his heedless love, but Gildyr and Valerian rushed over to join the young elf-lord. Together, the trio beat off attack with magic and blade, fighting back to the main group.


    There was one saved …but Val had to reach the Mother''s dark sigil, and he knew it. This could only be stopped by putting an end to her. Or, at least, by blocking her power here.


    Filimar embraced him and then Gildyr, mouthing ''Thank you'' over the roaring and screams, the whistle and crump of spells and the sharp, ringing clatter of blades.


    "Protect Their Majesties," Val shouted back in reply, giving Filno''s shoulder a swift, rough clasp. "I have to get to the source of this horror."


    Filimar would have come with him, but the prince and princess… now direct heirs to the dragon throne… had got to be defended, no matter what.


    "Be safe, Valno," he replied, more sensed than heard over the clamor of battle. ''''Good hunting." Then he quoted the Tarandahl war-cry, saying, "For Oberyn, for the dawn."


    Valerian answered with,


    "An Arvendahl to the fray," which made them brothers in all but blood.


    Pretty One shot over to join the two elves. Looking up at Valerian with wide eyes and a blood-spattered face, the goblin sorceress signed,


    ''Can show you the way.''


    Which… absolutely. Yes. That, he very much needed, so Val signed back,


    ''Link to me. Follow my misty step.''


    He could feel pressure building inside of him, as Firelord sought to break free. But the Lord of Battles, the Shining One, cared not much at all for those who were not his own. Would like as not cauterize the entire system of tunnels, saving Valerian… maybe Lerendar, as well… and calling it victory. Unless he had some control, had sigil and mark, Val wasn''t willing to channel his god. Not again. Not like the last time.


    Perhaps a bit foolishly, he pushed Nightshade''s hilt into Nalderick''s hand. His Majesty was close to fully recovered now, and missing his own sword. Next, spelling protection over the whole, beset lot of them, Valerian took Pretty One''s hand and misty-stepped out of the fight.