Heimdall watched as Nyxia flew back towards Jonathan. Suddenly, the souls of the undead all accumulated together, unifying into one cataclysmic curse spell. Heimdall's eyes widened. "Everybody get back!"
The vampires and the demons retreated back into the house as Heimdall closed his eyes for impact.
Protect the mind, he thought. A death spell that huge would obliterate everything, and he saw little chance of survival. He braced his body, ready for the curse to appear.
But nothing happened. Heimdall opened his eyes and ran towards where Morte and Jonathan were just battling. He could see no more dragon, and he feared the worst. When he approached the spot, a weary Jonathan, in humanoid form, was embracing Nyxia, and Morte was nowhere to be seen. Xanriel silently alighted behind him and Ragen emerged, battered and bruised. Zanthos appeared, coming in from the left, with a slash across his cheek. A small, rocky golem - the Dorfl that Heimdall knew - strode in and crouched next to Jonathan's tired form. "I think this Morte fellow should be taught a lesson, don't you?" said Dorfl.
Zanthos looked around. "Where
is Morte, anyways?"
"No matter," said Heimdall. "Jonathan just needs to rest." Xanriel went to each adventurer in turn, healing them of their ailments. Nyxia and Jonathan were locked in a passionate embrace. "He's all right," said Xanriel.
"He's all right?" said Dorfl.
"He's all right!" cried the adventurers. A cheer then rose up among all the surviving vampires and demons in the town - a cheer that seemed to dispel all the deadly miasmas and shadows that had once covered the town. "You have done your part, citizens of the town," Heimdall called out. "A great evil has been driven away today, thanks to all of you. Round up the survivors; we shall work to repair the damage that death has caused, but the worst is over. We have won." The cheer resonated throughout the town, and Heimdall smiled sincerely for the first time since the battle had started.
OOC: Finally. After 6 pages of beat-em-up, we're done.
