So it was down to either Light or Life then, Dorfl though, and chose the former, expecting it to do more good. He focused on the dim light shining down on the battlefield, and drew his strength from it, pulling it in and nurturing it until it blazed a brilliant white.
He was enveloped in it's glow, a soft cocoon of energy, and the Minotaur seemed to be unable to locate him, blinded in eyes that could not see.
For some inexplicible reason, he felt compelled to speak 3 words, and they escaped his mouth in a whisper:
"Pugnus Lux Lucis"
The light sped away from him, and there was the sounds of clasps tightening, buckles buckling, and he was encased in a suit of radiant and pure-white armor, with gold trimmings. Near the edges of each section, it was gold, and appeared as normal armor might. But the centerpieces, those, seemed to be made of white. Not iron, not steel, just a glowing brightness that seemed to have a solid form.
He also felt the familiar weight of a sword in his right arm. A claymore, and a big one, by the feel of it. Not a normal blade though. No, not at all. This was the Shining Claymore, the flames of the Fahrenhiet made into Light.
He changed the beast then, wielding the huge sword easily in his right arm, shooting by the horror in a flash of light, and reappearing, crouched, on the ground behind him. Both of it's legs had been cut clean through.
The golem wheeled back on it, bringing the blade upwards to slice his opponent in two, and slice it did. A perfectly even cleave, Dorfl was momentarily visible at the height of his jump, Shining Claymore curved towards the sky in a deadly uppercut, before he fell gracefully to the ground, and behind him the bones collapsed once more, for the last time.
"Pfft. Too easy." He grinned, and turned back towards the pile of lifeless bones, looking at them thoughtfully.
"Pugnus Vita"
Once more, a glow surrounded him, but of a different hue this time. It was a bright, vibrant green, and he emerged in armor that matched this suit. However, he did not hold the Shining Claymore this time.
Now, there were two blades, on in each hand. They were long, thin affairs, each with one sharpening to a deadly point, with thorns and miniature flowers blossoming at their hilts. The Emerald Rapiers had come to life.
He waved one experimentally in the air, and a blazing jade-colored fire followed it's path. He disaapated it with a motion, and, satisfied, faced the dead heap once more.
He began to weave the both of them through the air, spinning with them in a fluid, defined motion that seemed to have a life of it's own. More flames sprouted from the blade-points, and where they touched they burned an astonishing white that left sunspots in your vision for hours after they had gone away.
When he had completed, the symbol of Life stood hanging in the air, giving off the feeling of a newborn puppy, waiting to be realeased so it may have some fun.
He pushed it off towards the bones with another wave of his sword, and they collided.
The bones jumped up into the air, organs and flesh and muscle and sinew appearing where before nothing had been. The magical fire surrounded the creation though it all, spiraling around it and leaving emerald dust to float though the air, giving it a healthy alive look. Where it touched the bare ground, grass and flowers grew.
Once it was finished a huge Jade Dragon stood before Dorfl, at least ten times the size of an ordinary one, and offered a ride to it's creator and master. He obligingly climbed up onto it's neck, and it took to the sky.
There was no need to give orders, the Dragon simply seemed to know what he was thinking and what he wanted it to do. It flew into battles with other dragons, easily tearing apart those of Ivory and Bone, blessing those of Black and Obsidian with Adrenaline for speed and strength.
He flew past Sirenes and mAX, waving one arm theatrically as he did so, and then diving back into the fray. His Dragon tore huge holes in the ranks of undead with it's claws and acid breath, and he changed some of them into living soldiers with his swords, which were becoming more and more like wands by the minute.
It didn't matter, he supposed. They were working, the Dragon had given new hope to the Legion of Darkness, and the unending army of zombies and skeletons seemed to be running low on troops. There was a light at the end of this tunnel, and Dorfl was going to drill though however many tons of rock to get to it.
G'Night.
