war of the spider queen 5 annihilation-第59部分

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。　The　centipede　had　bitten　it　off。　Gromph　clenched　his　fists　in　anger　and　looked　down。　He　could　see　his　severed　leg　lying　amid　a　shower　of　blood　that　still　rained　from　his　open　wound。
　　　Sparkles　of　light　off　to　one　side　caught　Gromph's　attention。　Nimor　threw　something；　and　Gromph　instinctively　blocked　his　face；　fearing　a　spell。　Instead；　he　saw　the　hilt　of　the　winged　assassin's　enchanted　rapier　spinning　to　the　ground　far　below。　The　trail　of　sparkling　light　was　what　was　left　of　the　freezing　blade。　Gromph's　spell　had　done　more　than　banish　the　centipede。
　　　Nimor；　to　say　the　least；　was　not　happy。
　　　As　the　assassin　launched　a　string　of　invectives　his　way；　Gromph　flexed　his　muscles　and　found　that　the　stiffening　effect　was　gone。　He　was　in　pain　but　not　as　much　as　he　would　have　imagined。　His　ring　was　already　starting　to　fight　against　the　grievous　wounds　the　archmage　had　suffered。　Gromph　knew　that　he'd　survive；　but　there　was　still　the　matter　of　the　leg。
　　　Nimor　swooped　over　him　then　disappeared　into　the　darkness。　Gromph　couldn't　see　the　lichdrow。　He　dropped　slowly　to　the　floor；　ing　to　rest　in　a　pool　of　his　own　blood。　When　weight　started　to　return　to　him；　he　staggered　and　had　to　reactivate　the　staff's　levitating　power　before　he　fell　in　a　sprawl　into　the　puddle　of　cooling　gore。　He　hadn't　thought　about　trying　to　stand　on　one　foot。　Instead；　he　let　himself　hover　an　inch　off　the　ground；　bent；　and　picked　up　his　own　leg。
　　　It　was　a　curious　feeling；　holding　his　leg　in　his　hand；　but　the　archmage　brushed　it　off。　The　assassin　and　the　lich　were　obviously　regrouping　after　Gromph's　powerful　spell　had　disjoined　the　magic　all　around　him…all　the　magic　save　his　own…but　they　would　be　back。
　　　Gromph　felt　the　bone　on　his　stump　again　and　was　pleased　that　the　skin　hadn't　yet　begun　to　grow　over　it。　He　turned　the　leg　in　his　hand　and…
　　　A　blast　of　cold　air　surrounded　him；　engulfed　him；　pushed　him　back　and　down；　grinding　him　into　the　stone　floor　of　the　Bazaar　and　dragging　him　along。　Gromph's　head　smashed　into　something　that　broke；　splintered；　and　fell　all　around　him。
　　　He　shook　his　head；　and　bits　of　giant　mushroom　stem　and　glass　fell　from　his　white　hair。　He　was　half　buried　in　a　shattered　merchant's　stall；　but　all　Gromph　could　think　about　was　how　relieved　he　was　to　still　be　holding　his　leg。　His　body　was　covered　in　a　thin　layer　of　chilling　frost　that　was　already　starting　to　melt　in　the　cool　damp　air　of　the　Bazaar。
　　　The　lich；　Nauzhror　said　into　Gromph's　mind；　was　outside　the　disjunction。
　　　I　see　that；　the　archmage　answered；　letting　a　wave　of　frustration　follow　the　thought。
　　　Gromph　looked　up　and　around。　Dyrr　was　casting；　while　Nimor　arrowed　fast　through　the　air　at　the　archmage。　He　set　another　protective　globe　around　himself；　briefly　worrying　that　the　staff's　power　was　being　too　quickly　drained。　It　couldn't　keep　protecting　him　and　levitating　him　forever。
　　　The　lich　finished　his　spell；　and　Gromph　smiled　when　a　bolt　of　blinding　yellow　lighting　crackled　from　Dyrr's　hands；　arcing　through　the　air　and　splattering　in　a　shower　of　sparks　against　Gromph's　protective　globe。　Even　as　the　lightning　spent　itself　on　his　defenses；　not　even　making　Gromph's　hair　stand　on　end；　the　archmage　cast　another　defensive　spell　on　himself。　Flames　flickered　almost　invisibly　along　his　body。
　　　I　see；　Prath　said。　It　worked　on　the　huecuva；　but。　。　。
　　　Nimor　was　upon　him；　and　Gromph　tucked　his　body　into　a　ball　against　the　assassin's　attack。　The　half…dragon's　hands　were　bigger　than　they　were　in　his　drow　guise；　and　each　of　this　fingers　ended　in　a　thick；　sharp　talon　of　jet…black　ivory。　Nimor　raked　Gromph's　shoulder　with　those　formidable　claws；　but　they　skipped　harmlessly　along　the　sparking　surface　of　the　archmage's　fire　shield。　Bright　orange　flames　blazed　up　from　Gromph's　shoulder；　covering　the　assassin's　face。　Nimor　roared　in　pain　and　beat　his　wings　once　so　hard　that　stinging　shards　of　glass　from　the　ruined　merchant's　stall　whirled　around　the　archmage。　Each　time　one　of　the　little　shards　of　glass　hit　him；　a　spark　of　fire　burst　out　in　answer。　The　spell　never　burned　Gromph；　but　for　a　few　unnerving　seconds　he　was　surrounded　in　a　cascade　of　roiling　flame。
　　　Nimor　disappeared　into　the　shadows　in　the　cavern's　vault。
　　　The　flurry　of　glass　and　fire　subsided；　and　Gromph　worked　his　way　out　of　the　wreckage　of　the　merchant's　stall。　When　his　stump　was　clear；　blood　still　oozing　from　it；　the　pain　reduced　by　his　ring　to　a　dull；　annoying　throb；　Gromph　took　a　second　to　make　sure　his　foot　was　pointing　in　the　right　direction　and　stuck　his　leg　back　on。
　　　He　held　it　in　place　and　closed　his　eyes。　His　breath　came　in　short；　sharp　gasps　as　the　dull　throb　turned　into　a　skin…quivering　shiver。　The　feel　of　the　bone　reattaching；　each　fine　blood　vessel　rejoining　its　severed　end；　nerves　blazing　back　to　life　with　a　wild　flurry　of　pain；　itching；　pleasure；　then　pain　again；　and　his　skin　drawing　itself　together　made　Gromph　gasp　and　shake。
　　　The　lich；　Nauzhror　warned。
　　　Only　then　did　Gromph　bee　aware　that　Dyrr　was　casting　another　spell。　The　response　that　came　to　Gromph's　mind　was　a　powerful　deterrent；　one　that　would　protect　him　where　the　staff's　globe　could　not。　Not　pausing　to　consider　any　greater　implications；　Gromph　drew　together　the　required　Weave　energy；　and　the　antimagic　field　was　up　in　time　to　block　a　huge　explosion　of　searing　heat　and　blinding　fire。
　　　It　also　suppressed　the　regenerative　power　of　the　ring。
　　　No　magic　was　working　anywhere　near　Gromph　Baenre；　and　his　leg　was　only　half　repaired。　He　shuddered；　clenching　his　jaw　and　eyes　tightly　shut　as　pain　roared　up　from　his　leg　to　wrap　his　whole　body　in　a　spasm　of　agony。
　　　〃Well　played；　my　young　friend；〃　the　lich　called　down　to　him；　〃but　that　field　will　e　down　eventually。　Meantime；　you'll　be　bleeding…and　I'll　be　waiting。〃
　　　Gromph　didn't　bother　to　consider　the　lich's　threat。　He　was　in　too　much　pain　to　think。
　　　
Chapter　Twenty
　　　Piet　squeezed　the　handle　of　his　axe；　hoping　that　his　sweating　palms　would　still　be　able　to　grip　it　when　the　fighting　started…and　the　fighting　would　start　soon。　He　glanced　at　his　friend　Ulo　and　could　tell　that　Ulo　was　thinking　the　same　thing。　Piet　could　even　see　Ulo's　fingers　worrying　at　the　handles　of　his　two　big　knives；　and　he　knew　that　Ulo's　hands　were　sweating　too。
　　　They　had　e　to　the　Flooded　Forest　to　do　some　logging；　make　a　couple　of　silvers；　and　mind　their　own　business。　Since　they'd　been　there　they'd　seen　ten　of　their　rades　killed。　Some　had　died　in　the　inevitable　accidents　that　one　might　expect　at　any　logging　camp；　but　most　of　them　fell　to　the　local　wildlife。　The　swamp　held　all　manner　of　arcane　threats；　from　animated　vines　that　dragged　men　down　to　a　watery　grave　to　lizardfolk　who　picked　off　stragglers　at　the　edges　of　the　clearing　seemingly　out　of　spite。　Still；　the　ring　of　torches　and　the　gods　only　knew　what　else…maybe　even　some　sort　of　swamp　etiquette…kept　the　really　dangerous　creatures　out　of　their　camp。　The　makeshift　tavern　where　the　men　spent　virtually　all　of　their　non…working　time　（and　there　wasn't　much　of　that）　seemed　like　a　safe　enough　place。
　　　Now　a　dark　elf　and　some　kind　of　huge　demon…thing　had　smashed　through　the　window；　an