Fury
Chapter 1
The forests of Anything lay in a preternatural stillness. The sun was high in the mid-morning sky, bathing the timberlands in a sweltering heat. An unnatural tension lay over the entire area, a sense of impending tragedy. The air held a thickness to it, making it seem as if every breath drawn might be the last. There had been no rain in this region for several weeks, yet not a sound could be heard for miles. It was as if the natural residents of the forest feared drawing attention to themselves, and in so doing sealing their doom.
Suddenly the silence was split by a bloodcurdling scream of pain and anguish that was abruptly cut off. A body writhed in the middle of a clearing, crawling with dozens of varieties of insects, worms, and other creatures of the soil. Were it not for the human hand protruding from the twisted mass, it would have been impossible to determine the identity of the scavengers’ wrath.
DruidOverlord stood a few paces off from the now-silent victim, watching as the insect pestilence slowly devoured its prey, observing the way in which it crawled in and out of its mouth, nose, and ears, choking off the life of the wretch in a ritual of terror and agony. The victim was still struggling to escape its fate, though with less intensity and energy now as it began to succumb to the ruination of its body wrought by the blight called down by the druid to destroy it. A look of grim satisfaction was set on DruidOverlord’s face as he watched. Only one more death, he thought, and his revenge would be complete.
After a moment, he waved his hand and the earth beneath his victim split open, surging upward and swallowing the body before sealing itself again, leaving no sign of the death that had occurred there only moments before. Slowly, the forest around him began to come to life once again, but he paid it no notice, lost as he was in his own thoughts. Normally, he would have watched until the body had been reduced to a glistening skeleton, savoring each moment of his revenge. But instead of being sweet, his vengeance had become bitter and unsatisfying.
His two-year campaign of blood and terror had brought him to this place, a penultimate stop on a mission of vengeance. Everything that he loved and had held dear had been stripped from him in a period of 36 hours by an organization of schemers and connivers that, until then, had operated in complete obscurity. They had destroyed his home and sullied his name and reputation, making him an outcast among his people. But most importantly, and most painful to his memory, they had slaughtered his family before disappearing again into oblivion. Since that time, he had hunted the culprits down, unearthing a secret society far beyond what he had expected. It had taken a great deal of time, but he had discovered the identity of each and every member of the organization and had made them pay for their crimes in pain and blood.
His anger and seething hatred had carried him through each kill, fueling his imagination as he devised horrific deaths for his enemies, energizing him in a way nothing else had ever been able. His rage had become such that even the earth trembled at his coming, and the denizens of Anything fled from before him.
His passion and determination for vengeance had flagged with each subsequent death, however. The passage of time and the fact that he was nearing the end of his campaign of bloodshed had taken some of the edge off his wrath. He was beginning to lose interest, no longer waiting around to watch his victims be reduced to dust, sometimes even questioning his motives, his desires. He felt as though the darkness of his soul was beginning to abate, and he wondered if it was even necessary to destroy the last of his enemies.
It suddenly occurred to him that in all this time he had never learned the reason why his enemies’ had risen against him. He had never even known they had existed, let alone done anything that might have incurred their wrath. It had, in fact, signaled their very demise by striking against him, when they could have continued to operate unchallenged had they simply left him alone. It puzzled him. Funny how he had never thought about it before now.
As DruidOverlord stood there lost in his reverie, puzzling over this new question, the glen was cast in shadow, the air to his right shimmered, and a shade appeared. DruidOverlord spun to face the shade as a blast of arctic air washed over him. The shade lifted his cowled head, its deathly eyes fixing on him, and DruidOverlord felt his blood turn to ice.
You falter in your cause, dark one. The shade’s voice echoed in DruidOverlord’s head.
“Who are you? What do you want?” DruidOverlord challenged, wariness reflecting in his eyes.
The shade ignored his questions. Your soul belongs to the dark now, druid. There is no hope for your return. You hesitate without reason, your mission incomplete. The memories of your loved ones cannot be placed to rest until the last of your enemies is destroyed.
“What can you know my cause, shade? I know you not, and your is existence only barely tolerated in this plane,” the druid sneered, spitting that last with bitterness and contempt.
I know what has been taken from you. I know the hatred that flows through you. It fuels your vengeance, and the energy that flows from it can be felt on the spirit plane, as well. Yes, druid, you are known. You are known, and you are watched with great interest. There are great plans for you, dark one.
“Who are you?” DruidOverlord demanded again. “Of what plans do you speak?”
The shade merely laughed, or at least that is what DruidOverlord thought he was hearing. The sound was like bones scraping together, an altogether unpleasant, otherworldly noise that made his skin crawl.
“I am no dark one, shade. I am simply an executor of justice.”
Yours, then, is a dark justice. The pain you have inflicted on others is worthy of the most evil creatures. Consider this…
At that, the shade launched a volley of mental images, visions, and hallucinations on DruidOverlord, causing him to stagger and fall. He relived all the torture and death he had visited upon his victims, witnessed anew the bloodshed, the agony, the horror. The immensity of it left him gasping.
After a moment the shade lowered its arms, and the visions ceased. It was a moment before DruidOverlord was able to speak again.
“It’s over shade,” he panted. “I have only one left to destroy, only one to visit pain and death upon, and then I am done. It is over, and I can rest.”
It is not over, druid! It is never over!
The shade launched another series of visions on DruidOverlord, this time displaying faces of others that were responsible for his pain. The mental assault went on for what seemed an eternity, a bombardment of images and sensations that threatened to overwhelm him. After a while, a madness began to creep in, and DruidOverlord saw that the conspiracy against him was total, that there was none he could trust. His rage erupted fresh and hot, and he could feel his magic flare to a burning point within him. He opened his eyes and looked at the shade.
“Enough!” A bolt of energy shot from his hands and engulfed the shade in reddish-white light. In seconds, the shade was reduced to ash and the assault on DruidOverlord’s mind ceased. He stood up, looking into the sky, and lifted his arms. Energy crackled at his fingertips, then shot into the air. The gathered clouds turned black, responding to his rage with their own, swirling down and lifting him from the ground to carry him away toward the heart of Anything.
*—*—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~
Shed of his guise, in human form once more, the shade stood in the shadows of the forest, watching DruidOverlord depart. A triumphant smile was settled on his face. He continued to watch the broiling clouds speed away as another stepped up beside him.
“It begins then.”
“It was begun when we destroyed his life,” the shade replied. “This is simply the continuation of the plan.”
“He has grown powerful, more so than we expected.”
The shade’s smile turned grim. “Indeed. But that only serves us all the better. The destruction he will bring to Anything will be more complete, more total—and more devastating.”
The other nodded. “For them? Or for us?”
The shade looked at his companion finally. “Does it matter? We need only what he can bring. How he does it is irrelevant.”
The other glared. “Let us just hope that he does not learn of the tapestry of lies we have manufactured against him. If he ever learns that his life, his family, were destroyed for our own vanity, if he ever learns that we started all this just so we could wield him as a weapon…” He did not finish.
The shade looked back to the lightening sky. “Your fears are misplaced. He will not find out. The truth has been carefully concealed from him.”
They stood together in silence for a moment. The other broke the reticence.
“You forget his hesitancy. He is not as completely given over to the dark as you led him to believe. If he turns again, we will not be able to recover. Our weapon, our plan will be irretrievable.”
“It is true—he may yet rediscover his conscience.” The shade paused, considering, the thought clearly unpleasant to him. He nodded slightly to himself, the hint of a smile appearing on his face. “But it will not happen today. Today, Anything will bleed.”
© 2004 James P. Stitzel
Chapter 2
Siege911 stood on the forecastle deck, looking out over the bow of The Crimson Prowler as the pirate ship plunged through the ocean swells. As home as he was on the high seas, he was still anxious to see land again. The past few weeks had been rough, both for him and for his crew. They were physically and mentally exhausted, having faced challenges that would have sunk most ships and bewildered an ordinary crew. Siege allowed himself a smile, despite his fatigue. Yes, his crew had performed well. They had started out rough enough. He had hand-picked each of them before this voyage, and as expected, they had been mistrustful of one another. But they were pirates, and pirates as a rule are notorious for being untrustworthy. One would as oft as not be just as inclined to stick a dagger in your back as shake your hand, if you even still had one. And so it had been with them when they set sail. Talk was scant, initially, each crewman watching all the others from the corner of his eye, glaring when the others ventured too close, fighting when tensions were especially high. Siege sighed at the memory. Yes, it had been tough enough to start out. That all changed during the second week of their voyage. It had gotten worse.
*—*—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~
The day had started out like any other. The sky was clear, a beautiful, deep azure, and the sun was a bright ball of warmth as it made its own journey to the opposite horizon. The sea was as gentle as ever, perfect for smooth sailing. Siege hoped to cover a lot of distance, to make use of the good conditions.
The morning passed without event. The crew was relaxed as they went about their work, and the warm weather lulled them into a false sense of complacency. It was then that the sea threw a surprise at them.
A squall blew up, seemingly out of nowhere. The crew barely had time to get the sails down before the full ferocity of the storm hit them. They were enveloped in a maelstrom that turned the daylight into blackest night. It was a storm unlike any they had ever seen. The rain came down in torrents so that visibility was reduced to only a couple of yards. The wind blew at them, threatening to take them right off the ship. The ocean, so calm just moments before, now rose up to towering heights, bent on crushing them. The Prowler was tossed about like a box of matchsticks, and it was all the pilots could do to keep the ship pointed into the swells in an effort to keep the vessel from being broken into pieces.
Waves smashed over the bow, and everything that had not been battened down was washed overboard. Siege shouted an order to be passed along - everyone was to tie themselves down. He didn’t want to lose anyone overboard. Already he feared that some had, but barely being able to see past his own hand, it was impossible to determine the status of his crew.
No sooner had the order been carried out, then the timbre of the storm changed. The howling of the wind became the shrieking of the dead, earsplitting cries of agony and horror. It was enough to drive the sanest man to the brink of madness. Siege looked around him and was startled to see faces hidden in the rain and the wind. Sea banshees! They were ethereal and ghostly, there one instant and gone the next. There were hundreds of them, and the look about them was that of hunger, of need. Creatures of myth, sea banshees appeared as old women with teeth like needles, long hair hanging in clumped strands, and claws like razors. They fed on fear and flesh and could reduce an entire vessel to splinters, leaving no trace of its travelers.
Siege heard a cry of terror from somewhere on the deck below, followed by another and another. The banshees were performing their hideous work, driving the sailors toward lunacy.
Abruptly, the mist cleared and Siege could see several ropes dangling where men had lashed themselves to the masts to keep from being swept overboard. He didn’t know if the waves had swept them overboard, if the banshees had claimed more victims, or if they had simply jumped out of fear or witlessness. Siege untied himself, suddenly desperate to prevent the loss of any more of his crew.
He had no sooner reached the main deck, when something large smashed against the keel and the whole ship tipped violently to port. Siege stumbled into the main mast, the breath knocked out of him, and wrapped his arms around it, using it for leverage to help him stand back up. He looked out over the starboard rail and found himself face to face with a giant serpent. It glowed iridescent in the dusk of the storm and snarled at Siege, a plume of fetid breath washing over him. Siege closed his eyes for a moment, feeling slightly dizzy, and when he opened them again, the serpent was gone. Banshees continued to whirl all about him, feinting and mocking, claws raking the air, teeth snapping threateningly.
Siege heard a splash behind him, and he whirled to find the serpent coming over the port rail at him. He drew his sword and ducked under the beast with fluid coordination, stabbing upward. The blade bounced off the hard scale armor as the creature dropped, trying to crush Siege under its bulk. Siege rolled away as the serpent swung around, smashing against the fore mast, cracking it along its length.
“That’s it,” muttered Siege under his breath. “This is getting ridiculous. Time to put an end to it.”
Siege scrambled up to the forecastle deck, feeling a banshee’s claws tear into his shirt as he ducked. He drew his dagger and threw it at the serpent’s head, knowing it would not penetrate, wanting only to draw its attention. The monstrosity lifted it head and charged, roaring its rage as it slid along the length of the deck, sending crewmen ducking for cover. Siege boldly faced it, sword in hand, as the creature bore down on him. Almost before the creature knew what happened, Siege was on the creature’s head, his sword buried deep in its eye and into its skull. The serpent roared with rage and pain, but Siege refused to let go, stabbing repeatedly at the monster’s eyes. The serpent flailed about violently, completely blind now, its death throes making it nearly impossible for the pirate to stay astride. It thrashed one last time and then fell to the deck, dead, as Siege went sprawling.
The sword grew warm in Siege’s hand then, and as he looked down at it, the serpent’s blood was absorbed into the blade. It blazed with blinding incandescence, and Siege had to shield his face from the glare. The sword began to thrum and the light pulsed with a steady cadence. He realized with a start that it was pulsing in rhythm with his own heartbeat!
A banshee attacked him then, and he reflexively threw the sword up in front of him to protect himself. There was a flash of light and the banshee was swallowed up by the blade. Siege stood there wonderingly, staring at his sword in shock, then slowly held it out into the maelstrom surrounding his ship. Instantly, the blade flared and tendrils of light shot out into the tumult, wrapping fingers of energy around the banshees and drawing them into the surging metal. Siege felt power surge through his arms and into his body, and with a dawning of comprehension, realized that somehow, the blood and gore of the serpent had the ability to absorb magic. Now that ability was fused with his sword, giving it, and himself, that same ability.
In moments, the storm was gone, its fury absorbed into the sword as surely as the banshees had been. Siege collapsed to the deck, completely spent, and it was a few moments before any of his crew ventured to take him to his cabin to rest.
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Siege’s thoughts were broken by a call from the watch in the crow’s nest. Dark smoke had been spotted on the horizon, enough to indicate a very large fire. Siege was puzzled. Worried thoughts whispered at the back of his mind, but he pushed them aside. It was important to make land by nightfall. He ordered the remaining sails raised in order to take advantage of the stiff wind, and within moments they were moving at a brisk clip toward shore.
Siege climbed up onto the forecastle deck and took out his spyglass to get a better look. The shore was only just creeping onto the horizon, but he could already see that the smoke was rising from a large conflagration. As he watched, part of the smoke seemed to detach itself and was now moving swiftly toward him. Drawing closer, Siege realized that what he thought at first was smoke was really a large flock of birds.
He lowered his spyglass and continued to watch the flock, close enough now that he could see individual birds. His crew had noticed the birds as well, and they were close enough now to hear their screaming. All activity on the ship stopped as they watched, and Siege realized that there was something unusual about this flock. It was made up of not just one type of bird. There were all manner of birds, including some found only further inland - robins, sparrows, crows, whippoorwills, along with seagulls, hawks, falcons, and owls. Siege noticed with surprise that there were even some bats in the throng. The entire flock seemed to be afflicted with some form of madness as they flew out to sea. Siege could see birds careening into one another and dropping, dead, unconscious, or merely exhausted, into the water. The flock was close now, and the inevitability of what was about to happen dawned on him. Siege shouted to his crew, breaking them from their collective trance, and they began dashing around, tugging on lines, climbing the rigging, trying to drop sails before it was too late.
Within seconds, however, the flock overran the ship, punching holes through the sails, dozens of birds falling to the deck in bloody, feathery lumps. Many of the crew howled with pain as they were struck by the maddened birds. Confusion reigned on the deck for several minutes, and then suddenly it was over. Siege looked around, wiping blood from his brow. His sails were in tatters, and few of his crewmen had escaped injury. Many were scraped and bleeding, a couple had been knocked unconscious. But still, he had to smile grimly. Already, the crew were tending to the wounded. Besides, it could have been worse. It could have been a misfortune of Malkavellis.
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Several hours later, Siege stood in the center of the burned-out town. Smoldering ruins lay all about him, shops, businesses, and homes burned to the ground. Bodies lay strewn about, most so mangled and charred they were unrecognizable. Something terrible and powerful had come through here not too long ago and laid waste to this little coastal town.
Siege breathed deeply and clenched his fists, trying vainly to suppress the rage he felt. This town had been the closest thing, short of the Prowler, to what he could call home, and now it was gone, its citizens murdered without regard. He walked slowly among the carnage, and it was a moment before he noticed that something was out of place. There were prints in the dirt and ashes, tracks belonging to an array of animals. He recalled then the flock of birds they had encountered earlier, and something clicked into place.
Siege called to his crew. “I hope you packed your land-legs, boys! ‘Cuz we’re going for a walk!”
There were some dissenting remarks and murmuring among the crew. They had no ties to this town, and they saw no reason to avenge its destruction. Siege turned to face them, the anger he felt apparent on his face.
“You lily livers don’t have to come. I don’t want any cowards,” he sneered. “But I owe a druid some pain. He destroyed my town and nearly destroyed my ship.”
He turned away, speaking almost to himself. “Besides, he has something I want…”
At that, he stalked away, his sword at his side, pulsing faintly within its scabbard.
© 2004 James P. Stitzel
Chapter 3
The trail had gone cold hours ago, but Skippy persisted in tracking it. He’d been trailing the gray wolf for two days now without sleep, his only weapons the twin daggers he carried in his belt. It wasn’t uncommon for him to spend days at a time in the forest, running various predators down to their dens, dispatching them with relative ease. It was where he preferred to be, where it was quiet, continually honing his skills at tracking and hunting, testing his courage with each final confrontation. This was the first time, though, he had ever lost the trail of his quarry, let alone for the better part of a day.
He paused in his running for a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the rough bark of a tree while he took a drink from his water bottle. He couldn’t understand it. How could he have so completely lost the trail of the wolf? He had followed what was obviously a well-used trail, and the path that the wolf left was fresh and easy to follow. He had never once set foot off the trail. Yet, early this morning, the trail had just abruptly ended and never reappeared. Skippy had searched the surrounding area thoroughly, thinking that the wolf might have leapt from the trail, but to no avail. The wolf had simply vanished.
Skippy pushed off from the tree and turned to face back down the trail from the direction he had come. It had initially worried him that the wolf’s trail had gone cold so suddenly. He remembered looking around warily, thinking that the wolf was brighter than he had originally given it credit for and was lying in wait to spring a trap. He had even felt a prickle on the back of his neck, like someone or something had been watching him. But there had been nothing.
Skippy turned around and continued walking down the trail. A couple more hours of this and he would have to write this off as his first failed tracking expedition. The thought discouraged him, yet he couldn’t think of anything else he could have done to reacquire the trail. Besides, no tracker was perfect. He just hated failure, and he was hoping to be the first tracker to never have lost his quarry.
The skin on the back of his neck prickled again, making him look up abruptly and scan the forest around him. It had happened several times throughout the morning, yet each time he stopped and looked around, the forest was as silent and peaceful as ever. He started out again, breaking into a slow trot, his eyes focused on the forest floor ahead him, looking for any new signs of passage.
A flash of motion from the corner of his eye caused him to jerk his head around, but again there was nothing. Musta just been my imagination, he thought. Stupid wolf’s made me jumpy.
Another flurry of motion, this time from the other side of him. Instantly, his daggers were in his hands. Now he knew he was not mistaken. He even heard the rustle of leaves as something scrambled over them. This didn’t sound like any wolf, though. No, this was definitely something else. And it didn’t belong in these woods. Nothing he had ever seen or tracked had ever moved so fast or in such a way as to create the sorts of sounds he was hearing now.
Motion from all sides now. Skippy assumed a stance that would allow him to spring instantly, whether it be to attack or to get out of the way of one. His reflexes were sharp, and he was confident. He had faced numerous dangers in these woods, and so he was unafraid.
He couldn’t yet see what was tracking him, but his ears told him that there were at least three of whatever it was. A shiver passed up his spine. He got the distinct impression that whatever was out there was toying with him.
A crash came from directly behind him and he dropped to the ground, whirling as he did so, just in time to narrowly avoid having his head taken off by—something! He got a good look at it as it passed by him, but it was like nothing he had ever seen. He didn’t have time to think about it, though, because instantly another of the beasts was upon him. He was on his feet in a flash, dodging as the beast ran at him. Skippy lashed out with one of his daggers, but the thing skittered away and was gone before he could make contact.
So fast! He’d never seen anything like it! A rustle to his left and he was ducking again as a third creature leapt at him. He wasn’t as lucky this time, and the creature’s claws bit into his shoulder. Skippy bit back the burning pain and struck quickly, before the creature had time to regain its balance. He buried the dagger to the hilt in the creature’s belly, and within moments it was still. He withdrew the dagger and stood up, looking around warily. There was no sound, no motion, yet he knew the others were still there. By now, every inch of his flesh crawled. He still had no idea how many others were out there.
The sounds of shrieking pierced the quiet, and half a dozen creatures rushed him all at once. He switched one of the daggers to a reverse grip as one of the beasts leapt onto his back. The others closed on him within seconds, and he quickly found himself overwhelmed. Using the dagger he had just reversed, he smashed the one on his back in the face with the butt of the handle, knocking it from his back. But just as quickly, he was overpowered by the others and quickly taken down.
Suddenly, the head of one of the beasts exploded, followed by another being knocked into a tree. All of the creatures lay dead a few second later, mangled beyond recognition. It had all happened so fast that Skippy had to shake his head.
A hand was stuck in his face, and he took it as he was pulled to his feet. He found himself towering over a dwarf carrying a formidable looking warhammer. Skippy was so astonished that for a moment he forgot the circumstances surrounding their meeting.
The dwarf was looking around at the wreckage. “Abyssals. Nasty lot. Been chasing after the lot o’em the better part of the day. Stumbled on their trail early this morning after they’d had a bite to eat.” At this, he held up the remains of a grey pelt. “Frankly, I’m surprised they left this much of the poor fella.”
Abyssals. That explained a lot. Skippy had heard of the creatures. Fellows at the bars in some of the towns he had been through liked to tell stories, and he had heard some hair-raising tales of warriors who had narrowly escaped encounters with the beasts.
Skippy looked at the dwarf, puzzlement on his face. “I don’t understand. Abyssals? Here?”
“Aye, lad. I don’t understand it, either. They aren’t supposed to be here. But there ‘ave been several sightings and encounters all across Anything the last coupla of weeks. There’s something happening, and I mean to find out what it is. I was actually headed toward town to meet with someone who might have some information.” He was quiet for a moment, glancing briefly at Skippy’s wounds. The abyssals had cut and scratched him in numerous places, and the flesh on his right arm had been flayed near the wrist.
“You’re pretty good with those blades, son. I’ve seen veterans of war face an abyssal and be cut down in seconds. You, at least, managed to take one out before the rest ganged up on you. You’re welcome to travel with me. I think we’re goin’ to need all the fighters in this battle we can get.” He glanced again at the blood dripping from Skippy’s hand, who was now beginning to feel the burning. “Besides, you look like you could use a cleric.”
The dwarf turned and began walking. Skippy ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and bound his wrist, and then ran to catch up. He suddenly realized he didn’t know the name of the chap who had just saved his life.
“I just realized that I don’t know who you are.”
The dwarf replied without looking at him, “My name is DarkGuardian.”
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He knew they were coming before they had even arrived. Being an earth elemental, he knew everything that happened within the confines of his realm, and he almost always knew what it meant. The earth had been rumbling its discontent for days, speaking of contention and strife. It was unnatural. It spoke of death and suffering and chaos.
It was music to his ears.
Despite the continual shifting and barrage of movement, he could still sense even the lightest footfall. That was how he knew they were coming to see him. It amused him that such puny creatures could come into his domain with such confidence and arrogance. They seemed to be completely unaware of just how easily he could destroy them. He could cause the earth to open up beneath their feet or cause the ground to become quicksand. Often he would capture an unsuspecting human by such methods, and then he would feast. Ah, but how he loved the taste of human flesh! The Storm had never provided him with such fare!
He rose up from the swamp that was his haven and was waiting for them when they arrived. Just a simple display to make sure that they knew they could keep nothing from him. He kept silent as they approached, the one who thought himself so brilliant and so cunning, and his disciple, so afraid, so uncertain, so tempting a morsel. He would have to make a meal of this one later, to be sure to remind his master of his place. Besides, he was getting hungry.
“CardinalFang!”
In all his days serving the Church, never had anyone spoken to him with such disrespect! Less so after he had been condemned to this state of half-existence of mud and bone, forever cursed to be without solid form! This fragile human who little knew how perilous such bravado, such arrogance, within these borders could be, acted as though CardinalFang was his to command!
“CardinalFang! I demand an audience with you!”
“Indeed, human, and it seems as though an audience you have. Nevertheless, it is at my discretion that you have this audience, and what help I would give you I give at my own pleasure. Remember, you are within my borders now, and the fact that you are even still alive pays merit to the fact that you interest me. That fact, and that fact alone, is all that stands in the way of my snuffing your pathetic existence out forever.”
CardinalFang could see that the human was somewhat shaken, though he tried to hide it. It showed in his eyes. All pretense of arrogance was now gone. Good. Now they could talk.
“Cardinal, we ask your assistan—”
“Yes, I know why you have come. The druid has begun what you started. Indeed, he has been most destructive, a pleasure that has not been missed by me. Yet, I also know that his fury has been spread much wider than you would have wished. You did your job too well, human. His hatred of mankind has been such that it has not been as refined and focused as you would have liked. Thus, your plot for the destruction of Anything is threatened by failure.”
The human hesitated, then nodded curtly. He was clearly not pleased with how this conversation was turning out.
“You know of the pirate, then. And of his enchanted sword. An unexpected development, no doubt. He now seeks the druid, both for revenge and because he wishes to drain his power.”
The human was now visibly taken aback. The fear in his eyes was evident. It was obvious that he had no idea the extent of the elemental’s knowledge. CardinalFang smiled to himself. He enjoyed catching this pathetic excuse for a human off-guard, enjoyed disrupting his perfectly ordered world. The human had no idea what else was in store for him. He just stood there in silence; nothing else was needed to be said. It remained only to see if the the elemental would help him.
“I will take care of your ‘problem’, human. But remember, it is only because it brings me pleasure, not because you have requested it.” The human nodded in acquiescence. He turned to walk away, but CardinalFang’s voice stopped him. “And human, if ever you set foot within my borders again, you will not leave them.”
He watched as they almost ran from his presence. The disciple was now so afraid that CardinalFang would be surprised if he made it to the border without passing out. Then, he chuckled because of course he already knew that he wouldn’t.
“Ter-Soth.” A figure emerged from the gloom of the swamp behind the Cardinal. His hooded countenance revealed nothing of his face, yet a sinister intent was readily evident.
“All is in place, Cardinal. The druid will meet his fate within a matter of hours, and chaos will soon reign over Anything.”
CardinalFang nodded. “Good. Make sure no one knows until it is too late.”
Ter-Soth turned and was gone in an instant, leaving CardinalFang to his thoughts. He continued to stare in the direction in which the two humans had gone. They were well on their way out of his borders, but not nearly far enough. He spoke quietly, as though to himself.
“Yes, human, I will help you, though not in the way you expect. Your maneuverings are too limited, too… unimaginative. But I have taken care of all that, and soon even you will wish you had never set these events in motion. Yes, soon, I deal you a death blow and this whole realm will be mine.”
He began then to sink back into the mire.
“But first, I need a snack…”
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The inside of the tavern was dusky and dank. Pipe smoke hung in the air, and the scent of ale permeated everything. The tavern this day was crowded and there was a din of conversation.
Surrounding a table near the back, a strange mix of men sat in silence, drinking and smoking and obstinately refusing to look at one another. DarkGuardian sat brooding while Skippy nursed his glass of ale. The others were apparently companions, albeit reluctant ones, of the man DG had come to meet, though no one was quite sure yet as no one was really talking. Everyone seemed to be waiting for the scribe to finish writing. Finally, fury_of_hate broke the silence.
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude. Actually, yes, I do. I’ve been a mercenary all my life, and I have NEVER had to wait on a mere scribe in order to do anything. Here we are contemplating what could end up becoming the biggest and worst battle we have ever faced, and all we can do is sit here and wait for a scribe to do what? Finish writing a story?!” chaosnake growled his agreement.
“That scribe has been in more battles than most of us in here. Combined,” a voice boomed from the tavern door. The room grew still as an elf walked through the door. A few men even stood in preparation to strike him down but were stilled by the look in the elf’s eye.
DarkGuardian stood and greeted the elf warmly. “ShadowcatX, it’s good to see you. I hoped you would be able to make it.” They sat down at the table again and slowly the tavern returned to its usual state of disarray, though suspicious glances continued to be directed toward the elf. Some of the others at the table didn’t look so sure about the elf, either. Of course, the feeling was entirely mutual. Shadowcat had never had much use for mercenaries and shot suspicious looks at fury and chaosnake. He also had not missed the fact that fury was half NoThRoG. This was going to be an interesting meeting, to say the least.
“As I was saying,” the elf continued, in a quieter voice, “the scribe here has seen more combat than most men see in a lifetime.” As Shadowcat was saying this, YOYOY put down his quill and looked up. For the first time, everyone noticed the numerous scars on his hands and face.
“Actually, fury, I was not writing a story, though the demand for my work is high. I was, in fact, sketching out the details of what I know of the recent happenings in this realm. DG here requested my assistance a couple of weeks ago when Anything began to descend into turmoil. He believes that I have a better information network than he does, and it would seem that, at least in this case, he is correct.
“Allow me bring everyone up to date. A couple of years ago, tragedy befell a local denizen. In a series of very bizarre events, the family of a druid was completely annihilated. The circumstances surrounding the tragedy were veiled by the use of magic, so no one ever knew quite what happened. All they knew was that when the sun rose the next morning, the druid was kneeling over the bodies of his loved ones and the anguish and rage had rendered him virtually insane.
“He disappeared shortly afterward. There were for a couple of years isolated incidents – strange and unusual deaths throughout the region. Bodies would show up mangled and twisted, and all would have a look of profound terror on their faces.
“Then all of a sudden, the level of destruction escalated beyond belief. Entire towns were razed, villages burned, and a trail of dead and dying left in the wake of what some are calling a monster. Nature itself seems to be rising up against the citizens of Anything.”
“That, or a Bascarite horde,” someone mumbled.
Skippy spoke up. “I’ve heard a lot of similar stories. Shoot, I was nearly killed by a group of abyssals before DG here came in swinging and bailed me out.”
YOYOY nodded. “They’re all related. Here’s where the information from my sources comes in handy. Apparently, this whole situation has been engineered by an unknown third party. Whoever it is has been very discrete, at least up until the past couple of days. It seems that the druid’s path of destruction has deviated from whatever plan this unknown had. They have, in essence, lost control of him. What they wanted was to focus the druid’s wrath and power on one or two specific points within the realm of Anything.”
“To what purpose?” chaosnake asked.
“Remember the abyssals who attacked Skippy. Whoever started DruidOverlord on this path of destruction wants to release the whole of the abyssal horde onto the realm of Anything! So far, they’ve succeeded in punching only a couple of minor cracks into a couple of key barriers because DruidOverlord has spread his fury out over a far too broad range than they intended. If they succeed in completely breaking down the barriers, I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen.”
The others sat in stunned silence. They knew full well what it would be like if the abyssals were to gain the surface and have free reign. It was not a pleasant thought to any of them.
“So, what do we do?” Skippy asked.
YOYOY nodded at chaosnake and fury_of_hate. “That’s why I asked these guys to come. They’re two of the best mercenaries I know of, and fury is something of a strategist. I expect we’ll be needing their skills before all’s said and done.”
“And you’ll be needin’ mine, as well, I expect, if even half of what you just said is true.” The group huddled around the table looked up in surprise as Siege911 turned to face them from a neighboring table.
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DruidOverlord stood looking over the crevice he had just created. He had come to this particular spot in order to rest and, in essence, recharge his batteries. The devastation he had caused over the past couple of weeks had required levels of magic from him that he had not known he had possessed. He could still feel the rage and the anger coursing through him, but now he was weary as well. As a result, niggling feelings of doubt had crept into his mind, and he was trying to ignore them. So much damage had been caused because of him, and he could not now allow himself to entertain the thought that it was all for nothing. And now a crack had opened at his feet, and he had no idea how he had done it.
The glen in which he found himself was a semi-circle of grass surrounded by trees on the one side and overlooking a cliff on the other. He always felt so in touch with nature here and found it a good place to regather the necessary magical resources to continue his craft. He had begun the day by digging his toes slightly into the soil, allowing them to transform into roots and creep down deep into the earth. He had felt the rejuvenating rush of energy that continually flows through it, but that had been cut abruptly short by the sound of collapsing ground behind him. He detached himself from the soil and turned to find that a small crevice had formed.
Now he was looking down into it, half-knowing what he would see and half-wishing that he wouldn’t. He had seen crevices like this before, caused them, in fact. It seemed that, lately, every time he used his power, it opened up another new fissure and within moments a handful of abyssals would crawl out and disappear into the forest. It was no different this time.
Even as he watched, eight or nine of the vile creatures crawled out and without so much as casting a sideways glance at him, they took off into the trees. DruidOverlord had, at first, simply not given much thought to what he had caused, considering it due justice to Anything for having turned their backs on him. He had felt that it served them right to have to deal with a few abyssals. Except of course, that now there were a lot more than just a few roaming the surrounding lands.
The druid was startled by a sudden commotion coming from just inside the treeline. The sounds of impact were plain, and then the ruined bodies of abyssals were thrown back out into the clearing. An arrow whistled out from the trees toward his head, but he easily cast it aside as though it were made of paper. As he watched, several armed warriors stepped out from the trees. He recognized the faces of the dwarf, elf, and scribe, but the others were strangers to him. He knew the pirate was especially dangerous. He also knew why they were here.
“You cannot stop me! I can crush the lot of you with a mere thought!”
The pirate disengaged himself from the group and walked toward him. “I would wager, druid, that you cannot crush me so easily.”
DruidOverlord lifted his hands and suddenly the earth beneath the pirate exploded in a jungle of vines and vegetation. Within seconds he was completely obscured from view. The druid began to turn to face the others, who had scattered in order to surround him, but the sounds of metal hacking at the unnatural growth resonated from within the supernatural jungle and gave the druid pause. A flash of silver and light and Siege was free of the vines that had bound him, the sword in his hand reverberating with energy. He charged the druid but was instantly repelled by an earthquake that knocked him from his feet.
A whoosh of air sounded behind the druid and he cast himself to the other side of the clearing as DarkGuardian’s swing passed harmlessly through the space the druid had occupied just seconds ago. The dwarf then found himself colliding with a tree, stunned and dazed, as the druid blasted him with a burst of energy.
The overlord spread his arms wide and closed his eyes. As he did so, the day was cast into a twilight-like pall and a hum like machinery could be heard coming from everywhere. The others looked up in time to see a gigantic swarm of insects descend upon them. The cloud was so thick that breathing became difficult and several of the group went down, gasping for breath as they choked on the swarm. Siege was close enough to the druid that he managed to fight his through the swarm, swinging his pulsing sword in a wide swath that left hundreds of the insects crushed and burned. He plunged the sword into the druid’s torso, and instantly the illusory swarm vanished. The pirate withdrew his sword and the druid collapsed to the ground gasping.
Despite his wariness, Siege was still caught off guard by the druid’s speed as he was instantly on his feet. Siege backpedaled wildly, swinging his sword at the druid, who evaded each sweep. The pirate barely had time to register the fact that his sword had left no wound, not even a tear in the fabric of the druid’s clothing, before he tripped over a rock and tumbled to his back. That would have been the end of him but for the others, who seemed to appear out of nowhere and attacked the druid. Siege picked himself up and threw himself at the druid just as he repelled the others. DruidOverlord turned in that instant and grabbed Siege’s sword arm. They wrestled wildly, each trying to gain the upper hand, the druid trying to avoid the magic-draining power of the sword while taking advantage of the pirate’s blind eye, the pirate himself trying to wrench himself free of the druid’s iron-like grip.
Suddenly, a whistling sound, a flash of metal, and a dagger embedded itself into the druid’s shoulder. It was just the opening that Siege needed. He wrenched his sword arm free and, playing on a growing suspicion, plunged the blade into the druid’s skull. DruidOverlord cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, the pirate pushing the metal still deeper. Amazingly, the sword did not burst out the other side.
Siege heard fury_of_hate cry out in warning and, from the corner of his eye, caught a glimpse of DarkGuardian running toward him, shouting furiously. There was no time to look, however, before something made impact with him, sending him sprawling and knocking his sword out of his hands. He looked up just in time to see DG dispatch the abyssal that had attacked him and to see a hooded figure pull the glowing sword from the druid’s skull. The figure laughed derisively and lowered his hood to reveal his abyssal features. Then, just like that, he was gone.
The breathless warriors looked around in confusion as Siege walked over to where DruidOverlord sat clutching his head in his hands. There was no wound, no mark, not even a scratch to indicate where the sword had been.
“I do not wish to have this battle with you again, druid,” said Siege, quietly.
DruidOverlord looked up at the pirate, a wholly new and haunted look in his eyes. “By Todd, what have I done?!”
“Nothing less than what any of the rest of us would have done, given your loss.”
“I was such a fool.”
“No, druid, you were deceived and enchanted. The truth was carefully hidden from you, veiled by a magic more powerful than your own. You were led to believe a lie, and you were used as a weapon. I suspected this when I plunged my sword into your belly. Not only did it drain your power into myself, it also revealed to me the truth of what had been done to you. At one point in our battle, when I swung my sword past your head, it flashed briefly crimson. And when I pushed it into your head, the sword drained the enchantment from you, casting the veil from your eyes and revealing the truth to you.” Siege offered a hand to DruidOverlord and helped him to his feet.
Siege continued. “I also know that Ter-Soth did not get everything he wanted or expected. My sword was supposed to drain you completely of your power, which he could then wield to open up the Abyss and unleash hell. What he got instead was the lie and only a fraction of your power.”
DruidOverlord nodded, flexing his fingers and testing his magical bond with the earth. “The fact remains, though, that he still has a powerful weapon.”
“Indeed, though to somewhat lesser degree, we do still have a problem.”
© 2005 James P. Stitzel
Chapter 4
DruidOverlord descended the gleaming steps of the new Temple with great urgency. Things were changing rapidly, and he wasn’t sure that he could handle it. Despite the carnage he had wrought, he had been granted a position of power with the fall of the old Temple to the Bascarites and the rise of the new. The stress, the recent changes, the guilt he still bore, none of these things were helping, and yet he still had to think clearly enough to make some crucial decisions.
He headed toward the group sitting in the shade of a nearby oak. He could see their furtive looks as he approached, the mistrust reflected in their eyes. And why shouldn’t they be wary? He had, after all, caused quite a bit of damage before Siege911 showed him the truth. Thinking of the pirate, DruidOverlord suddenly realized that Siege was nowhere to be seen. Chances were good he was still inside the Temple, taking care of some of the final touches of its construction. Those damn Bascarites sure did make a mess of things.
The druid stepped up beside DarkGuardian, resting his hand on the hilt of his new sword, the weight of the magical key in his pocket, the symbols of one of the more significant changes in his life. His gaze traveled around the small group gathered here. He was pretty sure he could count on the dwarf to cover his back if things got out of hand. DruidOverlord looked in turn at each member of this ragtag party—Skippy, YOYOY, ShadowcatX, fury_of_hate, chaosnake. They had originally set out to kill him, and here he was now a member of their party. He knew they weren’t going to like what he was about to say.
“I must continue on alone.” The reaction was as he expected. There was an explosion of argument as protests were voiced. You’re crazy if you think we’re going to let you out of our sight! You’ll destroy Anything, you arrogant fool! I’ll stick a knife in your back if you think I’m not coming to keep an eye on you. Just because the powers-that-be in the Temple trust you doesn’t mean I trust you. Even DarkGuardian was looking at the druid with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that what I have to do requires me to track Ter-Soth and stop him before he can put Siege’s sword to ill use, and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt on my behalf. I’ve already caused enough pain.”
“I beg to differ,” said a voice from behind him. DruidOverlord turned to see Siege approaching with quick strides. “I think that you’re going to need all our help. Ter-Soth has gone to ground, quite literally, and no one knows those tunnels better than a dwarf. The rest of us have skills that you may yet have use of.”
“No, no, I can’t allow it—,” the druid began.
“I don’t think you have a choice. You may have gained new power from that tome of yours and new prestige with the Temple, but I am still the leader of this party. Or haven’t you noticed the general lack of trust the others have toward you?”
The resultant silence was all the answer that Siege needed. He liked the druid, had a little idea of what lay beneath that stoic exterior, but he knew that the others weren’t ready to make the same assessment.
“Pack it up, folks. We move out in an hour. DG, once we get to the tunnels, you take point with Skippy. We’ve got to catch us an abyssal!”
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Ter-Soth raced down the passage, Siege’s sword pulsing with brilliance in his hand. This was a very dangerous game he was playing. Who would ever believe that an abyssal didn’t want to destroy Anything. Yet, had he not captured the pirate’s sword, Anything surely would have fallen by now. The only way to prevent that from happening was to keep the sword away from those who would use it for destruction.
Of course, Ter-Soth had problems of his own now. CardinalFang would surely have learned of his deception and betrayal and would be searching for him. The elemental’s connection with the earth made it nearly impossible to believe that he didn’t already know where the abyssal was. He probably had already sent out his assassins to find and destroy him. So, he had to keep moving, find a route that would take him deeper into the bowels of the earth and hopefully away from those who would destroy this world.
He stepped into an adjoining passage and three abyssals launched themselves at him from the shadows. He whipped the pirate’s sword up and sliced cleanly through two before they even had a chance to flinch. The third attached itself to Ter-Soth’s back, who slammed it up against the cavern wall, dislodging the foul beast (one of his own!) and skewered it with the pulsing blade. He set off at a faster pace, knowing even as he did that it wouldn’t matter. The fact that they had found him so soon meant that they already knew where he was.
The abyssal ran on for a time, hearing sounds of pursuit in side tunnels as he passed, but seeing no one. Eventually, the sounds died out completely and Ter-Soth began to hope that they had lost him for good. As he stepped into a large cavern split by a gaping chasm, a blow from behind sent him sprawling, ending the illusion that he would get away without further confrontation.
“You betrayed me, demon!” The voice was sinister, murder and death oozing from each word. Ter-Soth picked himself up and turned to look at the speaker. He was startled to realize that he had no idea who this new attacker was. As if reading his mind, the voice continued. “You were supposed to give that pirate’s sword to the elemental, demon, who was, in turn, supposed to give it to me so I could level the realm of Anything and destroy its insignificant denizens. And here you are, delusions of grandeur and illusions of morality. YOU ARE AN ABYSSAL! The only purpose of your existence is to destroy and maim and kill! Ironic, then, that you will be destroyed because of your own holy virtue.”
The other was on him so fast that Ter-Soth didn’t even have time to bring up the sword in defense. He was knocked to his back, and the sword slid across the floor to within just a few feet of the chasm. Blow after blow struck his face, shoulders, and torso, and it was all he could do to block even half of them. The sound of a knife being drawn and the glint of metal preceded the searing pain in his shoulder. He had managed to prevent the knife from being plunged into his throat, but the wound to his shoulder was going to make things exceedingly more difficult.
With a herculean effort, Ter-Soth heaved his attacker off and scrambled toward the sword. Burning pain tore at his thigh, and he looked to see a jeweled dagger embedded in his leg. He was losing a lot of blood, and he knew that if he didn’t finish this soon, Anything would be doomed. With a last vaunted effort, Ter-Soth reached the sword and flung it into the abyss. At least he won’t be able to get it, he thought. He collapsed to the ground, rolling to face his attacker. The triumphant look on his face was replaced by one of puzzlement as his attacker began to laugh. I don’t understand, he thought. I just sabotaged his scheme. I cheated his victory.
Then, from deep below, the world began to tremble.
© 2005 James P. Stitzel
Chapter 5
Pitched to the ground by the violence of the earthquake, DruidOverlord rolled into the small clearing just off the path. The group had been following Ter-Soth’s trail to the dark, subterranean reaches when the ground began its intense shaking. There was no good place to take cover, since the ground could open up and swallow a person pretty much anywhere. Even so, the druid recognized that this was not a natural quake – there had been no warning, no hint in the whisperings of the life in this realm of the violence that now tossed him and his companions about on the tempest of this tremor.
Just as suddenly as it started, the shaking stopped and the druid collected himself from the ground, brushing dirt and leaves from his person. He winced as his fingers touched fresh bruises. He looked around and saw his companions also getting up from the ground, looking shaken but otherwise none the worse for the wear.
And then the ground in the clearing in front of them exploded upward in a mighty surge of dirt, rocks, and roots, showering the company with wet sod and granite, knocking them all from their feet once again. And what crawled from the newly created whole left them gasping with fear and astonishment.
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With an agonizing groan, Ter-Soth dragged himself away from the chasm and toward the tunnel leading out of the cavern. Rocks and debris from the cavern ceiling were falling everywhere as the quake threatened to collapse the entire room on him. His attacker was laughing maniacally, rocking back on his heels as the sound of his madness reverted throughout the cavern, competing with the roar of quake and debris. Ter-Soth gave no thought to it, however, aside from hoping that a particularly large boulder would crush the madman.
And then just like that, it was over, and Ter-Soth gave up his frantic crawl toward safety. He was feeling weak and lightheaded from loss of blood – and that maniac continued to laugh! He cursed this wound that had hobbled him and was now letting his life force ebb slowly away.
A primal scream echoed from the chasm, making his blood run cold. He recognized the sound, but for it to be this close to the surface…! The sword! Ter-Soth groaned in bitter defeat, as everything suddenly became clear. Whoever his attacker was, he had manipulated Ter-Soth, making him think he physically wanted to hold the sword when instead he really only wanted it to be tossed into the chasm. It had held a talismanic power that had broken the magical boundaries between the deepest, darkest reaches of the earth and the surface, and now a horror was making its way inexorably toward the annihilation of Anything.
The scream came again, and Ter-Soth shivered, knowing he was powerless to escape. He gained some grim satisfaction to know that his attacker was likewise doomed, as he glanced over to where he had been standing a moment before. The abyssal cursed under his breath. He was alone in the cavern, but for the monstrosity rising up from beneath him. Somehow, the attacker had made good his escape. Ter-Soth’s chin dropped to his chest, and his eyes closed as his slipped from consciousness, a merciful escape as the beast from below rose into view. It absorbed the abyssal’s flesh, blood, and bone into its own, making it stronger and hardier as it continued to tear its way skyward.
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CardinalFang grinned in ecstasy. That miserable abyssal had betrayed him, nearly upsetting all his carefully laid plans. He had escaped with the pirate’s sword and gone to ground – not that that would have been much of a problem for an elemental like Fang – but then that… pretender... had stepped in with his foolish scheming and nearly sent everything spinning out of control. The creature of mud and bone only laughed. Apparently, though, the pretender’s plans hadn’t been so different from his own, after all, though only one of them would survive in the end. Still, CardinalFang knew what was rising even now from the bowels of the earth, and he allowed himself to relax. This was so much better than what he had planned…
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The monster broke through the surface, spilling a cascade of dirt and rock below it. The brilliant sun hurt its eyes terribly, but the creature was vastly adaptable. Its body was a rippling, fluid mass of tissue and bone, composed of tens of thousands of abyssals, now melded together to form an organism of incredible destruction. Hundreds of heads turned on great stalk-like necks that sprouted from a disgusting, slug-like body that stank as though something long-since dead and rotting. Legs that looked like they could barely support the monster nevertheless pulled it from the gaping maw, as it looked about its new surroundings with hundreds of eyes and a cunning intellect. Its gaze fixed upon the small party that it had knocked to the ground just moments before by its eruption, and a roar of fury and hatred issued from its many throats, deafening the victims below it, victims that would soon be digesting in its own fiery gullet.
Another angry roar and the monster began to move toward its meal.
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“Scatter!” That one command from fury_of_hate broke the collective trance of the entire group as they stood mesmerized by the vile beast that had just pushed its way up from below. It was ugly and evil – and it was HUGE! The body of the beast filled the whole of the tiny clearing and it had torn up a hundred yards or more of the forest on three sides of it. Most of the creature’s body was still below ground, just those hundreds of heads waving around, listless eyes gazing in all directions, appearing to see nothing yet seeing everything. And when it began to move toward them, fury_of_hate was the only one with enough presence of mind to realize that if they didn’t get out of its way, they would be dead within seconds. So, he shouted as he dove out of the way and hoped that it would be enough to get the others moving, too.
Bodies went flying as everyone tried to get out of the monster’s way. It tore at the trees with its sharp teeth, splintering them like they were twigs. Fortunately, the trees were just enough of an impediment that it couldn’t easily grab any of its intended victims. A shout of “Regroup!†sounded behind it, and it turned to see its prey running toward the standing trees at the edge of the abyss from it had just emerged.
fury_of_hate knew that they had to gain some sort of advantage over this monster or it was going to kill them first and then head on out into Anything. If anyone was going to stop it, it would have to be them, and it would have to be now, before it could feed and grow anymore than it already had. He looked from face to face as his mind worked furiously to find a strategy that would bring this… thing… down – Skippy had a white-knuckled grip on his daggers and was looking pale, chaosnake had a look of grim determination, DarkGuardian was unnaturally calm, his massive warhammer held at the ready in his powerful hands, ShadowcatX detached and aloof, Siege911 tired and worried, DruidOverlord carrying a burden of guilt that showed plainly on his face (and well it should, since it’s his fault we’re all in this mess), and YOYOY sitting back against a fallen tree, a grin of cheerful contentment spread across his face, the only sign of his own personal madness.
“Gentlemen,†fury_of_hate began. “This seems like as good a day as any to die.†That got their attention. Good. “But personally I think I would like to live a while longer.†A couple of chuckles. He would have to hurry; the beast was drawing closer. It was big and slow, but that didn’t mean they had the luxury of wasting time. “I don’t know if we can beat this thing, big and brutish as it is, but the only chance we’re going to have is to come at it from multiple directions, keep it off balance. When I give the word, spread out around it and attack all at once. Run in, attack, feint, back away, and attack it from another direction, striking in another place. Keep it guessing, keep it off-guard. It has a lot of heads, but they are all attached to one body, so maneuvering will be a challenge for it. Try to hit something, anything, vital. And pace yourselves. This is likely going to be a long battle. Fatigue will be just as deadly as getting caught in that thing’s grip.â€
They broke palaver and split up, circling around the beast. The creature, of course, saw them and stopped moving, howling with hatred and rage. It chose a victim, unsure yet which was most dangerous, and headed toward Skippy. Just as it did ShadowcatX let fly a runic arrow that pierced one of the many stalks, exploding it in a shower of sparkles. The stalk fell away, and the head crashed to the ground. The creature howled in anger and turned to face the new threat.
DruidOverlord emerged from the trees, throwing his hands up and calling vines from the ground to swarm and cover the monster. The vines wrapped themselves around the stalks, pulling the heads to the ground, but with a great surge, the beast hauled itself further up out of the hole, snapping the vines, and knocking the druid aside with a great sweep of one of its heads.
The others attacked all at once – DG swinging his hammer, pulverizing flesh and mashing the stalks of the creature, Skippy slashing and hacking with his daggers, tearing hunks of tissue from the monster, opening great veins of blood, YOYOY swinging his club, pounding the beast to a bloody pulp.
Only Siege hung back, and so he saw what the others didn’t. It was difficult to see at first, but when he focused on a point beyond the battle, letting the foreground blur slightly out of focus, he saw that one of the monster’s heads never attacked, even while it moved as violently as the others. His gaze focused in on that stalk, and he noticed something else. A hilt protruded from between the monster’s eyes there, glowing and pulsing with an evil red glare. Siege knew instinctively that it was his own sword, cast somehow into the abyss from which this thing came, now caught in flesh of this unspeakable evil. It was the source of the monster’s strength and its intelligence, and the only way they were going to defeat the monster was to retrieve and destroy the sword.
The others were beginning to be overwhelmed now, surrounded on all sides by the monster’s heads. It had moved faster than they expected, and they had gotten too close. Siege took off at a sprint, straight toward the creature. It saw him coming and angled several heads toward him to receive him with a sharp, toothy welcome. He dove below the writhing mass, rolling immediately to a knee, kicking off the ground with one foot and leaping. He sprung up between two of the stalks, ignoring the foul smell the creature gave off, and wrapped his arms around the stalk that led to the sword. The other members of his company saw what he was doing and attacked with fresh vigor to draw off the creature’s attention and give Siege a few precious seconds. He clawed and dug in with his heels, gagging as pus issued from the monster’s skin and ran down his hands and arms.
Finally, he reached the monster’s head, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. The creature gave a scream of rage and swung around violently, throwing Siege from its neck. His grip was still strong on the hilt, however, and he dangled off to one side of the monster’s head. Siege felt a sharp pain pierce his legs, and he screamed in agony. He looked down to see that one of the monster’s other heads had its teeth sunk deeply into his thighs. Blood flowed freely over the monster’s mouth, and Siege looked away before he could pass out at the sight of his mangled legs.
With his free hand, he drew the dagger from his belt. He had to get the sword free and his time was running out! Already he could feel his strength ebbing, and he plunged the dagger deep into the monster’s jaw. It screamed again and the head swung violently to the side, flinging Siege several yards away. He crashed with a sickening pain in his back, and all feeling in his lower half was gone. The sword had come free and was pulsing in his hand, a sick shade of crimson. Siege had only a moment to stare, disbelieving that the sword had actually come free and was now in his hands, and then the shadow of the monster hovered over him. The beast dropped swiftly to crush the pirate beneath its great bulk. Pirate and beast screamed together, and then all was still and quiet.
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DarkGuardian gave a hand to DruidOverlord, helping him to his feet. Skippy stood a few feet away, blood flowing from a laceration on his scalp. It looked bad, but head wounds almost always looked worse than they really were. chaosnake walked up from behind the druid and dwarf, holding his arm gingerly. The bone had been broken in the fight and they would have to put a splint on it before going much further. fury_of_hate and YOYOY were amazingly uninjured, except for a few bumps and bruises. As for ShadowcatX there was no sign. Either the monster had eaten him whole or he had cleared out as soon as the battle was over.
They limped over to where Siege’s curled hand stuck out from under the monster’s body. Together they heaved the massive stalk to one side. The pirate had somehow managed to sink both his enchanted sword and his dagger into the monster’s head, turning the brain into porridge and killing the beast. But the monster had exacted its revenge by crushing Siege to death under its massive weight. The pirate’s eye was open and unseeing, and a line of still-wet blood ran from his mouth.
DruidOverlord wrested the enchanted sword from Siege’s death grip. The others started with alarm, thinking he would now turn it on them, until the overlord broke the blade in half over his knee. A brief flare of energy surged from the broken metal, washing over the living and flowing past the dead. The monster itself pulled apart like water spilling from a jar, tissues and fluids melting and seeping into the ground. The stench was momentarily suffocating and then it was gone.
Siege’s body lay where it was, looking peaceful and rested.
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The memorial for Siege911 was short and solemn. Only the members of his party were in attendance, and little was said. The pirate had been with them for only a short time, but already it seemed difficult to imagine what it would be like without him. He had been a natural leader, and when the crunch came, he willingly and easily gave up his own life to save the others.
As they walked away from the tomb, DarkGuardian drew close to DruidOverlord.
“It’s over then.†The druid merely shrugged. The dwarf raised a questioning eyebrow. “You don’t think so?â€
“We stopped the monster, yes, but we did not find its master. I do not think we have seen the last of trouble in this realm.â€
DG nodded. “You are likely right, druid. Still, we shall revel in our victory today and think about our problems tomorrow.†He grinned mischievously. “Join us for a drink. I know a certain bartender who brews a pretty mean ale.â€
*—*—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~—~*—*~
Deep below ground, a jeweled dagger glinted in the semi-darkness, blood encrusted on its sharpened blade. No one saw it, or the single name engraved on its metal tang.
Sakar.
© 2005 James P. Stitzel