Chapter 18.
The Beast of Del-Godar.
My world is filled with wonders both great and small, those creatures that live there are within my care, but there are others that dwell beneath the earth and they are beyond my power and listen only the Dark Gods.
From the Book of Isarie.
Major Grevas was not a coward for he had faced horrible death dozens of times on many different worlds and never ran from it, his strong body bore numerous scars from grave wounds and his bravery was well known in the drinking dens of warriors of the Outer Rim, but for all his glory he found that the darkness of Del-Godar pulled at his courage like a drunken weaver unraveling a fragile cloth.
Following the orders of his commander Grevas led his men into the crumbling city and made his way deep within its haunted chambers, he gave orders to leave directional markings as they moved deeper into the maze of connecting rooms assuring that they would be able to find their way back when their mission was completed. That mission was to find the precious green mineral called Grana, the only substance that would stave off sickness and death but as they moved ever deeper into the complex the glow from their chemical lights found only death and decay.
“Halt!” the major called out lifting his hand, “Rest”.
His weary troopers had been on their feet all night long and even in the endless darkness it was reaching near dawn and they needed to break for a time and re-new their strength. The place where they stopped was filled with rubble and bits of broken metal but there was enough open space to set up a perimeter and make sure that they would not be set upon unnoticed, the dim light from their lamps cast bizarre images on the buckled walls and added to the strangeness of the once great city.
Grevas took a sip from his liquid carrier and removed his heavy steel helmet then he ran his hand over his bald head and splashed a bit of water onto his face.
This is no place for a soldier he thought as he took another small sip but orders must be followed and he had never disobeyed a command in his life, he began to think back over his long career and the times when he was sure that his end had come. The time he was surrounded by Ocarians and he was the only one alive in his squadron, then the time he had to fight a Bolbec hand to hand, and lastly the time he was trapped in a pit of Dortalmorian blood suckers. He would never had admitted it but it was the only time he had been truly frightened, there was something about their slimy undulating worm-like bodies and their raw gaping mouths and the imagined feel of their rasping tongues that made his blood run cold, if it was not for his quick rescue he was sure he would have gone mad with fright.
We’re not on Dortalmora he told himself and that eased his mind some and gathering up his courage he stood up and called out to his men. “Forward!”
And obeying his orders the warriors rose up and began following their leader, but they had only gone a few steps when a strange sound was perceived and immediately they all stopped in their tracks and aimed their weapons into the darkness. A few tense moments passed and Major Grevas was about to give the signal to move ahead when the sound was heard once more, it wasn’t footsteps or an animal sound, it was more of a grating sucking noise, like a dull knife over rough metal. The sound grew louder and Grevas lifted his rifle and pressed his thick finger ever so slightly on the cold trigger. “Stand and fight!” he shouted, but there was no reply from the intruder, “If you surrender to us we will not kill you!” the Major knew this was a lie but it had worked in the past and he hoped it would work now, “If you don’t come forward we will fire, we’re soldiers of the Alliance and not afraid of you!”
It was then that the thing showed itself.
Grevas was certain that they were not on Dortalmora but never the less before him stood a blood-sucker, but whereas the plasma drinkers on that far off planet were only the size of a man’s arm this one was a hundred times that big! It’s oozing red stained body moved forward with undulating movements and all the while its huge maw opened and closed exposing row upon row of razor sharp teeth, it had no arms to speak of only dozens of clawed tentacles each one capable of grasping a man and crushing him like so much rotten fruit.
Major Grevas was too frightened to give the order to fire but in an instant the air was filled with projectiles and screaming, soon smoke filled the chamber as the soldiers weapons spewed out round after round and that firefight continued until all their ammunition was depleted.
But in the dense smoke the sound of men screaming for mercy continued until nothing more was heard.
Anais and Kela had no memory of the sudden power that had taken over their bodies but their human companion was well aware of their incapacitation, Romar had been sitting near their fire as the Handmaiden placed a new dressing on his wounded leg, she had told him that soon he would be healed and able to go his own way if he wished when suddenly she stopped talking and stood like a stone statue, it was the same with her cohort and thinking it was some kind of trick the Captain said nothing for a time. But soon it was plain to see that this was not a hoax for they stood up and began walking in circles and lifting their arms as if they were some kind of string-dolls. The wounded man decided that this was a perfect time to make his escape for he never believed the story about his being able to leave on his own, so he stood up on his painful leg and began moving from the fire, he had only taken a few steps when he was confronted by Jomo and Delgar who bore their huge teeth and growled at him until he returned to where he started. He stayed there while the sky changed color and lightning bolts began to strike the ground near the great circle of stones the Nomads called the Eye of Isarie. The two Drogs howled and snapped at the crackling winds but they had been well-trained and did not leave the sides of their masters. At last the winds subsided and the sky cleared and as it did the two Nomads that had given him shelter began to move once more.
Kela opened and closed her eyes then looked at the Off-worlder and the two beasts that surrounded him, “Delgar, Jumo, what is the matter with you? She said putting aside the wound dressing in her hand, “He is our guest not our enemy”. And she came close and slapped the huge head of the male, “Go now Jumo and look for fat Burrow-babies to chase”, and hearing her words the two Drogs ran off in search of the small furry creatures. “I am sorry if they scared you” the Handmaiden said, “They will not harm you”.
“As long as you do not bring harm” Anais added for he was no longer held in a frozen grip.
Romar felt more at ease now that the two watch-beasts were gone but he still held back from asking questions about what had just occurred and there were many racing around in his mind the least of which was the fact that he was not in the same place he was before the strange occurrence began, he had been sitting near the fire and now he was standing by the wagon, something that would surely raise questions in anyone’s mind.
Anais was blind, a gift from the Goddess some would say for when his vision was taken from him he was a bitter, angry man who thought only of himself and his own comforts, and the road from that hardened man to the person he was now was a long and rocky one, but Isarie works in strange ways the faithful would say and all things change. Now that blind man reached out with his mind and focused his feelings on the outsider.
“Why do you fear us?” Anais suddenly asked. Romar was not use to anyone asking such a blunt question for his world was filled with deceptions and half-truths, it was the way you survived, “I don’t fear you” replied the young man, but it was easy to see to anyone with sight that he was indeed afraid and to Kela it was more than obvious for part of her training as a Handmaiden of Isarie was to know when a person was in fear for the Holy Book’s words were plain.
Fear is the ground where hate grows.
Anger is the water that feeds that hate.
Death is the bitter fruit of that hate.
The Blind-prince also knew that his question had been answered with a lie, “We found you in a warship and it is plain that you are a soldier who seeks war but your efforts have failed be
cause we are in the protection of the Goddess and her power is beyond yours”.
Romar was well aware of the primitive beliefs of the Nomad people, it was part of the gathered intel that all commanders had to familiarize themselves before the invasion, but it had no real meaning to the Captain for he had no religious beliefs, “If you know that I have come to conquer you why do you let me live?”
Anais took a small stone from the ground and began rubbing his finger over the smooth surface, “As I have already told you we took you into our care and now we are responsible for your welfare, you are weak and it is up to us too…”
“I’m not weak!” Romar screamed as he rose to his feet.
Kela was a Handmaiden of Isarie and took an oath to care for all living things but her travels in the Outlands had also taught her how to survive and she reached for a small cutting knife that she kept hidden under her robe and mentally selected the most vulnerable place to strike if they were attacked by the angry man, the neck is best, cutting the blood line there will end his life quickly she thought and despite her promise to the Goddess her love for her mate was stronger than her fear of damnation. Kela whispered a short prayer of thanks as the young man calmed himself and sat down on a carry box.
“There is no shame in weakness” Anais said as he turned the smooth stone over in his hand then held it up between his thumb and first finger, “Look at his rock, I cannot crush it in my hand but apply enough pressure to it and it will crumble to dust” then he pointed to the tall pillars in the distance, “There is the Eye of Isarie, it has stood there for eons yet it will someday fall and it’s great towers will return to the sand”, then he turned his head up to the sky, “The twin suns have burned since before life walked upon this world yet they will slowly fade and return to the cold and darkness of the universe, all things are weak in time, all things must die”.
Romars face did not show any sign of interest in what the man was saying for he had long ago trained himself to hide his soul beneath a hard exterior, “Your goddess?” he said quietly “are you talking about the electromagnetic pulses that emanate from your planet and render all advanced forms of mechanisms useless”, then it seemed he forgot his training for his eyes showed a sign of humor, “We are well aware of your so called god-power but what you don’t know is….” He suddenly realized that he was giving away pertinent information to an enemy and stopped talking.
Fool he told his mind, just because they saved your life is no reason to think they can be trusted; they are your enemy nothing more.
Anais dropped the stone in his hand, he is afraid and hiding something and for a moment he was drawn back to his former life and what drove his mind, he should be killed, his presents is a danger too…then he returned to the present and the lessons that he had learned, he may be an enemy but things change.
The light from the waning suns filtering down thru thick clouds cast a red glow over the crumbling stones of Del-Godar and this contributed to the overall weirdest of the day, lightning storms, winds and a rumbling of the ground only added to the displeasure that Ivar-Anoon was already feeling. The men he had sent into the interior of the outlands had not returned and he feared that they had met with enemy resistance, communication with the invasion fleet was sporadic at best and there was no word of Major Grevas, and despite his admiration for his combat history he had to assume that he had also failed in his attempt to find the green mineral that would stave off the effects of the devastating Plague that infested this world.
As he sat near his crashed command ship surrounded by a squad of his best troopers he looked down at the skin on his right arm that was not covered by the survival suit he was wearing, there he could see small red spots that were not there when the day started. The urge to scratch them was very compelling but he knew that it would only accelerate the disease so he tried to think of something else and not the fact that if something was not done soon he would end up as a rotting corpse.
I’m not going to die like that he thought, I’ll end it myself if need be. And he placed his hand on the primitive projectile gun that he carried around his waist, not the best way for a commander of the Alliance to die but better than the alternative. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what a metal fragment tearing through his skull and brain might feel like, they say there would be no pain but no one had ever healed from wound like that so it was only speculation, you would hear the blast that was certain, but how long would it take before you stopped thinking, they say time slows down in the presence of danger, what if that applied here and a splinter of time was an eternity The idea that he might have to endure a prolonged death placed another layer of displeasure on his already taxed emotions.
“Commander?”
The voice ended Ivar’s dark vision and opening his eyes he saw an officer standing before him at attention, “What is it?” he said coldly.
“Sir, there is activity at the entrance to the city” the ranking soldier said.
Ivar rose to his feet, “Show me” he said, and without further words the Commander and his guardians marched to the broken remains of the once proud city.
There was very little light left when the leader of the Pacifiers reached the entrance to Del-Godar, chemical lights had already been dispersed in a half circle and their soft glow sent long shadows over the broken rocks and fragments that littered the area, there was also a whole company of projectile armed soldiers who were trained to fight in darkness or light, they stood pointing their primitive weapons at the dark hole in the side of the crumbling city wall and waited for orders to fire on whatever emerged from that dim portal.
Ivar stood waiting and focused his eyes on the entrance, his face was calm but inside he was excited for he longed for battle as any good soldier should and if he had to die he’d rather end his life this way then laying on a med-table hooked up to pumps and wires. A strange quiet filled the air and even the wind seemed to vanish as a figure slowly emerged from the broken battlement.
The creature was tall and humanoid for it had two legs and two arms and a head, its heavy body was covered in some kind of reflective material that shimmered and seemed to return back more light than it was exposed too, its movements were supple and assured and it came forward without making a sound of any kind. As it approached the features of the thing could be seen in greater detail, it had a brutish face with heavy brows and a large jaw, its eyes were small and close set and its hands were overly bulky with claw-like fingers, if Ivar-Anoon had been a member of any tribe of the Outlands he would have instantly recognized the creature as an Earth-Eater, a dweller of the darkness, an Ergan-Mar.
If you were a member of those underground miners you would have seen that this was no nameless minion, this was the powerful leader of the earth dwellers, this was Tark who was known to all who lived in darkness.
The Commander watched intently as the creature advanced towards him sizing up the situation and making decisions in an instant, he is unarmed he thought he is alone, he is surrounded, he may have knowledge that can be useful, if not he can be killed. Ivar knew his men were well trained and would not fire unless ordered too and at this close range they would find their marks so he moved a few paces forward making sure that he did not come between rifle range and the target, when the creature was only a few paces from him it stopped and waited.
Ivar knew how to use power, when and how to implement a plan and when to wait, he recognized that the first to speak would be subordinate to the other so he waited and he was prepared to wait for as long as it took. It was not long.
“You are the leader of these humans are you not?” the creature said, his words were precise and articulate something that an Ergan-Mar would never do for they had a primitive language consisting of grunts, body movements and very little more, a few could roughly speak in the common language of the Outer-Rim for they needed to communicate with the Outlanders for trading but in their dark tunnels there was little need for precise details in communication.
&nb
sp; “Yes” Ivar replied, “Who are you?”
Tark made a gesture with his hand pointing to himself, “What I am would be difficult for you to understand, who I am would be far easier, I am a conduit between you and my master, what you say to me will be known and conveyed, but if you need a name there are several in your language that would have enough meaning to be useful in our transactions, the list is a long one but I will submit a few for that you may choose from, Transmitter, Translator, Connector, Ambassador, Envoy, Emissary, Messenger, Corvor, Itartac, Morogoran, but you may refer to me as Servant for that best conveys the intentions of my Master”.
“Why should I speak to you, what will I gain?” Ivar’s words were calm but inside his mind was racing, who is this master, what are his weaknesses, how can I use him to win?
The creature known as Servant took a pace forward and removed a small pouch from his garments, his sudden movements caused a stirring among the nervous guardsmen but they did not attack, their Commander watched as the thing held out the small container to him, slowly Ivar moved forward and took the bag and opened it, he poured its contents into his hand and what he saw made his heart race.
Grana, there could be no mistake for Ivar had studied samples of the mineral carried in Dropships that had made a return from Gorn, the small green crystals were annulled but its healing power could not be duplicated by any means available, I must have more of this, I must find a weakness in this man and use it to my advantage, but he must not know that I am weak, Ivar looked at the precious salt for a time then poured it onto the hard ground, he must not know my weakness.
Seeing the human dismiss his gift so readily brought a smile to the thin lips of Servant, “Your actions are brave but your body shows the need for wisdom, you are in the first stages of a biological infection and it will only increase until you are rendered useless.”
The General paused for a moment to think, he knows more, let him speak, “There is a minor infection but it is of little concern to us.”
Servant did not hesitate “You will not find the substance you seek and your efforts to enter the city have proven useless, I offer you what you need, if you do not trust my words I have sufficient evidence to show that I am telling the truth.”
Evidence, what can he mean? Ivar studied the man’s face hard trying to find signs of weakness or anything that he could use to his advantage but the more he looked the more he began to fear that he would find nothing, “If you have evidence bring it forward”.
Again the Ergan-Mar raised his hand and when he did several other of his kind began to emerge from the portal, they did not wear the same garments as their leader, they were covered in a thick armor that could not have been forged by any creature on Gorn, it fit them like scales on a Fang-fish making their lumbering movements seem more like a Crab-crawler than anything else, they bore no weapons yet they move unafraid, they each carried a metal box in their heavy hands and when they were beside their leader they stopped and placed the containers on the ground, stood at attention and said nothing.
Ivar again scanned the faces of these new intruders but unlike the tall man their faces were blank and expressionless, no sign of recognition showed in their beady eyes, no emotion, nothing, they were mindless drones doing as they were told.
“You wished for evidence and you shall have it” Servant said then without saying a word an underground dweller opened one of the containers and lifted out its contents with its thick hand.
Ivar held back his face from reveling what was in his mind for he stood looking at the severed head of Major Grevas, the eyes were wide in fear and the mouth hung open in a silent scream of terror. A lesser warrior would have given the order to fire and liquidate those monsters who had killed one of their finest soldiers but Ivar-Anoon was no such person, he had risen up in the ranks because he knew how to find weakness and use it to win, if he killed those in front of him he would have a momentary victory but he would loss the war and that was more than enough to hold back the order to kill.
“He entered the darkness seeking” Servant continued, “He found something more, you can send another and yet another and still you will not find what you seek”.
“And what is that?” the General asked folding his arm across his chest in an effort to show confidence. “What all of your kind seek wealth and power” replied the stranger, “Many have come to this world but few leave. The self-assured envoy moved another pace forward, “the loss of one warrior is insignificant in a confrontation with an enemy, a thousand is nothing when you are waging a battle and a million is miniscule when the victory is a world, my master can help you destroy your enemies, my master can help you win”.
“I can destroy my enemies now” Ivar replied, my battle fleet has destroyed planets before but that would make little profit for the Alliance. The General was thinking of the Grinders on the orbiting warships, they could tear the upper crust apart and crush all things moving but it was something that the commander would use only as a last resort, this man is not the person I need to find, he is a string-puppet, I need to find the hand that moves him, I need time. Ivar moved one space towards his adversary, “I have power”.
“Your power is weak, your battle fleet in orbit overhead cannot land until you overcome the electromagnetic fluctuations that emanate from the planets core, those pulses are diminishing but they can still be lethal to your plans, and you will need to overcome the indigenous humanoid inhabitances, no easy task without your advanced weaponry, for the time being you need to stabilize your warriors and I can give you that power”.
Again, without speaking the Ergan-Mar opened the containers at their feet and poured their contents on the ground, enough Grana to supply a large army for a long time.
Ivar stared at the green crystals knowing that it was his only hope of survival, but he also knew its value.
Cost?” he asked without emotion.
Again, the arrogant ambassador took a step forward until he was only an arm’s length from the human and his voice became soft for it was meant only for the ears of the human, “you and my master have the same enemy, kill them all and your debt is paid”.
There have been many tales of creatures who have made packs with demons; it is a story that is well known on many worlds of the Outer-Rim and beyond, some ask for help in punishing a rival while other seek revenge for a wrongdoing, still others want to gain wealth or fame or power, demons know this and are called forth from beyond the Black Gulf to grant those wishes. When those who ask, receive what they want it is not an end to their needs, they go on and on asking for yet more and more and demons are content to give them what the ask, but in the end those who are granted power loose themselves in its endless depths and they become demons and sit in the silent blackness waiting to be called and so the cycle continues round and round until the end of eternity meets the birth of creation.
Chapter 19.
Masters of the Sea.
Nomads The Risen God Page 27