The last episode of The Black Eagle

Illiad ignored the cold sweat dripping down from his matted hair and into his eyes, stinging them. He held the slim quarterstaff erect in front of him, his feet apart and well grounded, concentrating hard on the lean figure in front of him. The very sight of it standing there with its twin scimitars in each hand sent shivers down his spine. The battle hadn't yet started, neither had made a move, yet Illiad felt exhausted, drained. He was dizzy and his head was pounding from the blow to it. The staff seemed heavy in his hand, and he felt naked without his helm and bronze breastplate, and above all, without his broadsword. All he wore was a thin chain mail shirt under a plain woolen tunic, and leather leggings covered till the knees by riding boots.
Now are you convinced that you are a fool? Or do you need the Dragonspawn's scimitars in your lungs to be entirely sure?, he thought to himself. He shook his head, cursing himself, trying hard to remember why he had travelled so far, past scorching deserts, treacherous mountain passes, forests riddled with pitfalls and into the perilous grottos of the Underverse, to end up facing death. His answer came instantly - Kyanna. She lay there beyond the ring of the loathsome Dragonspawn, torn and bloodied, her limp body chained to the cold stone walls.
Kyanna, i have come, he wanted to call out. He had traversed the whole world to get to her, fighting wars, battering through obstacles, killing mercilessly and destroying everything that came in his way. Illiad the Unstoppable, people called him. Illiad Blooddrinker, Deathbringer, Black Eagle, all were him. His achievements had carried far and wide, he was a hero, a living legend.
How brave and gallant they thought he was as he rode by on his black stallion, caparisoned with exquisite silk. They pointed at his bronze breastplate, a soaring black eagle emblazoned on it, its extended wings making up the shoulder guard. His helm was black too, shaped as the head of an eagle, edged with gold. The gauntlets and greaves were bronze, with black runes engraved on them. But the thing that inspired most awe was the two foot broadsword that hung from the scabbard on his back. The hilt was black, the knuckle guard in the shape of wings, but the blade, the blade was blue, molded from the purest Lorantium. It was unbreakable, and could cut through the toughest of substances, almost magical.
And how brave and gallant he had thought he was when he finally beheld Kyanna lying helplessly, awaiting him, in the moist cavern. He had run towards her, screaming her name, ignoring all the warning bells pealing in his head, not even pausing to wonder why the cavern seemed so empty. Then he found himself pitching head-first onto the rocky floor. Twenty figures stood around him, one of them carrying a wicked looking club. Down the club had come, banging into his helm, and then darkness followed.
They had relieved him of his sword, removed all his armour, save for the chain mail. And now he found himself facing one of them, the rest forming a circle around him, all ready for their little entertainment. They all looked the same to him, bipeds, with reptilian features including long tails emerging from behind. Their faces had snouts, sharp teeth protruding from them at odd angles. The scales covering their bodies made up for their lack of armour, green sometimes, or purple, or blood red, always changing with their every move.
"Come on human", the one in front of him hissed. "Defeat me and we will give that back to you", it hissed tauntingly, pointing a clawed finger at Kyanna.
Anger welled up within him, filling him with energy, giving him renewed hope. Talon, lying amidst his armour, just beyond the ring of Dragonspawn, glowed softly in the dim, eerie light of the Underverse. He needed only that to kill the Dragonspawn in front of him, to kill all the Dragonspawn, here and anywhere else, in all the realms, wherever they might be lurking. "Lets be done with this", he snarled.
He leapt forward suddenly, quarterstaff held high above him, with both hands, taking the Dragonspawn by surprise. With a grunt, he brought it down hard on the thing's skull. A loud crack filled the air...
...and the quarterstaff splintered, sending tiny pieces of wood flying into the air. The Dragonspawn stood there, unblinking, and then with amazing speed, spun on its heels, bringing its heavy tail around to crash into Illiad. He flew back and pitched into the floor, headfirst, a few feet away. Without thinking he rolled to his left, just in time to see the twin scimitars plunging into the floor where his head had been moments ago. Clutching the Dragonspawn's wrist, he hauled himself up and shoulder-charged the creature. Both went rolling, a tangle of limbs. The Dragonspawn had lost one scimitar, but the other slashed at Illiad's face. He pulled back immediately, as the creature started to swing. It overbalanced and fell forward into Illiad. Grabbing it's hand, he bent it at the elbow so that the scimitar pointed towards it's body. The creature's momentum carried it straight into the blade. It stopped, and looked down, unbelieving, at the hilt protruding from its ruined chest. Slowly it collapsed to it's knees, teetering, blood pouring freely from it, splattering onto Illiad's legs and then it fell forward, dead.
It took a while for the rest of the Dragonspawn to grasp the situation at hand. Then, the ring converged on him. Illiad swiftly extracted the scimitar from the dead creature at his feet, and ran towards Talon. The blade felt light in his hands, he was unused to it. Three of the Dragonspawn blocked his path, the rest advanced slowly on his flanks. Illiad aimed for the one the right, looking to skewer it with the scimitar. It brought its sabre up in defence, but Illiard pulled out in the last instant, spinning quickly with his sword hand out, savaging the middle creature's neck, causing a fountain of crimson blood to erupt from it's easophagus. The creature dropped and beyond it he could see Talon clearly, waiting for him, waiting to re-unite with him. He leapt forward, narrowly avoiding a swinging club, landed on the greatsword, and rolled back to his feet, the sword held firmly in his hands.
"Now i'm going to have my share of fun", he snarled at the milling Dragonspawn. With exaggerated vigour he layed about them, swinging visciously at everything moving, his eyes wide open with bloodlust. The sword was an extension of him, slicing through solid with ease, making everything it came in touch with seem insubstantial. When seen from a side-on view, it was almost invisible. It moved instinctively, anticipating attacks from all directions, cutting them off facilely. A spiked truncheon bore down on him from the left, and Illiad brought the sword up to meet it, cleave it, and in the same motion, decapitate it's wielder. He bludgeoned through the Dragonspawn, blocking, parrying, and then thrusting, hacking, and shredding them. A Dragonspawn, having lost it's weapon to Illiad's mighty blade, spun quickly, it's tail lashing out at him, cutting into his unprotected shoulder, drawing blood. Illiad roared, not out of pain, but out of anger, and savagely lopped off the whip-like extension.
Now only three Dragonspawn remained, nervously edging back, uncertain looks on their faces. "Fight, you vile creatures", he yelled. "let's see what you can do against Illiad the Unstoppable".
And then he stopped,
At the far end of the cavern, a Dragonspawn held Kyanna up by the hair in one hand, and with the other hand brought a dagger to her pale neck...
To be continued... (keep visiting)