Minzkala

by Amy E Hix

I rushed to my brother, who was starting to come to his senses, thanks to Sigge and Raffe. Alusia came with me to clear Cyrow’s thoughts. I knelt beside him and grabbed one hand. Loren was right beside me.

  Finally reunited, there was a rush of relief that filled me, and it was impossible for me to hold back the tears.

  “All right, you pansy. I just watched you annihilate the most massive beast I’ve ever seen in my life, and now this?” Cyrow smiled at me. Of course, he had no idea about the journey we had made to be there with him.

  Fouad still had control over the last giant Slicker when we started moving toward the group. He had used the Slicker to help kill the last Cerapithalis and was now standing near it, checking out the damage.

  Archaos had his bow drawn back to strike when he noticed the DM pulling out his special collar. He attached it to the neck of the Slicker, claiming the Giant Demon for his own. Archaos smiled at his choice.

  “Release the tainted beasts. They will not harm you now,” King Naethan commanded.

  We did and after being released, the tainted flew off in search of their attackers. Then we, along with Cyrow and two other men, returned to the first two we had freed.

  We met near the Slicker room and gathered everyone together. The freed men searched the remains of the beasts around us for weapons. On the ground level, the dungeon doors led to more spiraling hallways, but this time they led up.

  Occasionally, the hallways would open into larger areas like the dungeon, but there were no doors so far. We ran into a few Cerapithali, some that were already being attacked by the tainted. We let loose any of the yellow eyes that were bound and assisted when possible.

  As the Redeyes were destroyed, more men appeared from the sidelines of the fight. The Spirit Healers and Clerics healed them and added them to the group.

  We did this all the way out, through the halls with rooms, the upper cellars and the larger stone rooms, all the way back into the foyer that led to the courtyard, killing any and all Cerapithali in the way.

  It was late afternoon when we reached the carriers. There were now around thirty extra men with us who were instructed to board the third carrier.

  We were taking them back to Minzkala for a feast to celebrate their freedom. The men who had been tainted would be returned home the following day to be reunited with family. And we would use the day to prepare for our journey to Sapir.

  The Rocs swooped in to pick up the carriers. The journey back to Minzkala was flown lower this time, so that we could enjoy the view of the land as the sunset sprinkled across it.

  Cyrow and I sat with Loren and the twins. Valkryiex started singing a vibrant victory song and soon afterwards, all three carriers were singing with her. We sang of war and we sang of brotherhood, and we sang it loud so the whole world could hear.

  Nineteen

  The Contract for Souls

  The city of Vaidha, named after the mountain on which it was built, was home to the Digvi’jan Warlords. West of the Cerapithalan city in Vahael, Vaidha sat overlooking the northern Faxiech Ocean.

  Throughout the bay beneath the city, dormant volcanoes were scattered. The peaks were lower than the mountains on the mainland, worn down through the years by volcanic activity and the ocean’s tide. The low-lying area in the middle, once a large valley in the land, now rested beneath the ocean waters.

  There was a docking station in the bay on the lower ledge, close to the water’s surface. And on the docks, the Digvi’ja had built a lift six-thousand meters high to carry those entering Vaidha.

  It moved slowly so that the riders could grow accustomed to the higher elevations as they traveled. For this reason, the lift had a seating platform for passengers, as it could take up to two hours to make it to the upper deck.

  Carving in the shale rock left a steep cliff falling to the waters below. On top of the mountain, Vaidha was a fortress of winding staircases that were embedded into the rocky crags.

  There were buildings set out along the ledge, as well as some built into the mountainside. There were even more mountains to the east, quite a few of them taller than Mount Vaidha. There were no walls, for the sheer height of the city was a barrier.

  One of the weaknesses of Vaidha was that it was small. Because of that, many of the Digvi’jan Warlords had scattered throughout Gael in order to conquer other lands. But the very position of the city was its main weakness. The Ancients would have no problem reaching Vaidha, with the assistance of the Rocs. And if the Ancients were winning the battle, there would be no safe and timely escape from the city.

  Instead, when the Digvi’ja felt war with the Ancients was inevitable, they decided to move their women and children to a safer location. Then they would draw the Ancients to the Sapiran Highlands for battle. The citizens of Vaidha had begun to set sail to Sapir. They traveled west to avoid being seen from the shores of Maralune. The waters of the Faxiech Ocean were well-known to the Digvi’ja and would help to prevent the Ancients from discovering their intended location. The women and children would end up in Anamus Keep, an abandoned Barbarian city in the heart of Southern Sapir. Should things go awry in the Highlands, the Digvi’ja would continue to exist.

  To ensure the Ancients followed them, they planned to have all the Cerapithali in the Mourtaire Forest carry documents revealing their plans for the move. As the Cerapithali were killed by warriors entering the city of Minzkala, they hoped to have these plans discovered. However, before this could happen, they needed time to set up their base in Aheb’an, the former city of the Digvi’ja when they were known as the Caliginos. It was in a central location in the Sapiran Highlands and wouldn’t require much work.

  Killian the Sorcerer and his Orcs were put in charge of the rebuilding process. The Orcs tirelessly worked above and below ground to supply the fortress with what it needed to face the Ancients. Grosteques from two Demon Master towers in Southern Sapir, Maevesk and Rhea, would be arriving in the Highlands to help as well. They would fortify the battlements and walls of the mighty Digvi’jan fortress. During the day, the demons would petrify atop the ledges. The Demon Masters had agreed to join the Legion in return for a year’s supply of mining goods, rock, and gems and precious metals. After the war, they would return to their secluded lifestyles.

  The Barbarians were also a potential ally for the Digvi’ja. They fought beside the Caliginos in the Caliginian War. Before it was all over, however, they had a major dispute with the Caliginos about the foreseen spoils of the war. One night, as the Barbarian leaders slept in the base camp west of Aheb’an, Orcs came into the camp and killed them all. The Barbarians on the frontline were fooled into believing that the Orcs had done the killing of their own accord, but it had actually been Malear the Sorcerer who had ordered the attack. The Barbarians who survived the war settled in northwest Sapir in Acramon Sett and remained oblivious to the truth.

  In Vaidha, the Digvi’jan Ruler, Chesed’reg, was planning to make a stop at the base camp in the Byhalian Islands to check on the progress with the Mourtaire Forest. As he was about to mount his drake, two Cerapithali with a Digvi’jan escort approached him. One was the Pack Leader, who had been away in the Mourtaire Forest when Cyrow was rescued. As they drew closer, they hung their heads to show respect to the Digvi’jan ruler.

  “Our kind will no longer be able to repopulate, Master. The Ancients infiltrated the dungeons and slew Ceirgral,” the Pack Leader began.

  “Yes, I am aware of this. What I am not aware of is how twenty warriors could infiltrate your stronghold and kill your Keeper so easily. It causes me to question why, exactly, we find your kind to be of use. Nevertheless, there are still enough of you to form a small army. Make your way to gather up the remaining Cerapithali and head for Aheb’an at once. Leave only a small force in the Mourtaire Forest. In four days, give them the orders of our move to carry. The rescue of that tainted warrior leads me to believe they will be ready sooner than expe
cted.”

  He turned his back to them to indicate he was finished. They bowed and turned to leave.

  When Chesed’reg arrived at the Temple Ruins in Byhalia, he was greeted by the High Council Leader, Hanbrig, along with Greshan and a few others.

  The ruins were just that; broken down walls with volcanic rock debris, new life planting itself along the way. There was one building, a temple, which stood taller than the rest. Its roof was still in fairly good condition, made with stone shingles by the Saqaedrians centuries prior. The path that led to the Temple was hardly recognizable, now covered in tall grass.

  Inside, there was very little that remained. It would seem that trees were very scarce to find for the Saqaedrians, for most of the tables and chairs were all made of the same granite rock as the walls. The windows gave no protection from the outside elements, and there were climbing plants sewn along the walls, creeping in from outside.

  The entryway led to a small set of stairs and beyond that, another set of doors. When they passed through them, a large stone table awaited them in a bland stone room with no window coverings. Though the whole place was very primitive, it was the center for all the activity taking place around Minzkala.

  Though they were smaller than the Cerapithali, they were still monstrous in size, averaging eight to nine feet in height and broadly built. The Warlocks wore black woolen robes with hooded cloaks and carried metal staves, while the Warlords dressed in heavy black armor with cloaks and used Hooks, long halberds with crescent-shaped, thin blades at the top.

  Demon Masters, like Maevesk and Rhea, were often contracted into battle but rarely took part in anything beyond trade with the rest of the race’s members. The Carrion Drake Riders were responsible for aerial attacks using bows and crossbows. Their mounts could wreak enough havoc on their own with their dragon teeth and putrid breath, capable of rotting the skin from any enemy.

  Chesed’reg wore a crimson red robe, with patches of black velvet draped throughout. He had a headpiece made of black wrought iron, stretching from his brow to his neck. The appendages on the winding iron were like razor sharp feathers, each one lined with triangular tips, bearing the crimson color. His face was a deeper red than that of the other Warlords, his eyes a greener shade of yellow.

  Once the doors to the Council Chamber were closed behind them, Hanbrig immediately began to give a full report, “We received word from one of the Soothsayers this morning that the warriors have flown back to Minzkala. We think they may be getting close to finishing their plans to make war with us.”

  Chesed’reg looked bored with this information; he had already drawn this conclusion. But he allowed Hanbrig to continue, “We must make a decision now, one to either plant the information about our plans for Sapir or to simply wait and let them discover we are not in Vahael after all.”

  “Vaidha has been evacuated,” Chesed’reg interrupted, “We will let them waste some time there first.”

  “Very well, it will be done. Now, for Minzkala. We placed a Cerapithalis with two of the warriors traveling through the Mourtaire Forest; however, the beast is now dead. We’re not sure how they discovered its identity. The tracks of the warriors disappear a short distance from where we found the body. All signs point to the fact that the Orb’s boundary is nearby.”

  “How is the spell to disengage coming along?” Chesed’reg asked Hanbrig.

  “Not so well. We took the spells we thought would penetrate the Orb out to where the incident occurred. Its range was clearly enough to hit something if it was indeed going to work. Kraevit is working on the problem. He mentioned something about speaking with an old Hag in the Zemylan Swamps, a Seer. He thought she might be able to tell him what it would take to bring down the barrier.”

  As Chesed’reg looked out of the window, he commanded Hanbrig, “Have him sent out at once, then. We haven’t much time to spare. In the meantime, gather up the council along with the other Warlords stationed here and head for Aheb’an.”

  He turned to face Hanbrig again, “Given the decrease in the Cerapithalan forces, we will need you in Aheb’an. Should Kraevit find his answer, you may return here to help him enter Minzkala. With any luck, the warriors will be out trying to find us when you do. Before you enter the city, however, send me word.”

  Hanbrig scribed the necessary messages for Lucache to deliver and handed them to him. It was late, but he knew that Chesed’reg meant for them to leave immediately. By midnight, they had all assembled with the small army of Carrion Drakes, ready to make their way to Sapir.

  High Warlord Kraevit and five others headed east to the Zemylan Swamp in search of the Hag. Through the dark night, they rode. Kraevit was smaller than most Warlords, but fiercer. His left eye had been cut out by a small band of Cerapithali who once tried to revolt against the Digvi’ja. As a result, he had a headpiece designed to cover the missing eye, with a scar down the side of his face where the blade had continued.

  Also resulting from the incident were the deaths of the Pack Leader and those in power with him at the time. The new Pack Leader had learned from his predecessor’s mistake and never let the thought of resisting the Digvi’ja even enter his mind.

  From what Kraevit knew about the Hag, she lived in a shack in the southern region of the Zemylan Swamp, near the Saola Mountains. It would not be hard to find her using the Drakes to fly in low over the murky waters, but once on land, they would have to take caution with the undead that plagued the area surrounding her camp.

  She had Risen Soldiers to protect her home, drawing them to the swamp through their own hate, distrust and hopelessness. Members of the Human race, twisted with selfish gain and discontented with living in the cities over the years, had set out to escape the rule of the Kings by making their way to the Saola Mountains.

  Once there, the Hag drew them further north using the fertile land which lay between the swamp and the mountains. It was a small piece of land, but it didn’t have to be bigger. She would immediately send her fiends to take their lives and bury them in the swamp waters. Then, once a year, she would revive them, creating her skeletal minions and leaving them to haunt the land.

  Kraevit hoped the six of them would be all that was necessary to persuade the Hag to give them the information they needed. Once they found out what it would take to be granted entrance to Minzkala, they planned to return to the Temple Ruins and summon the High Council once more.

  Kraevit was consumed by his quest and couldn’t think of anything else but the chance of becoming widely acclaimed as being the key factor in taking down the city of Minzkala.

  It was approaching dawn by the time the group of Warlords reached the swamplands. Flying low to locate the Hag’s shack proved to be more difficult than they had planned, because of the huge fog that covered the ground below.

  With concentrated effort, however, they spotted a thatched roof and decided to drop into the area for a closer look. Using caution, they landed on a marsh bank directly across from the shack. There was a wooden bridge that led over the waters. In the distance, they could see a few white skeletal figures, but they were no threat. They were too far to reach them before they could make it to where the shack was.

  When they entered the door to the small hut, they found the Hag sitting in a chair. She was staring out the window and sensed their presence. “Ahh, I knew you would be coming soon,” she said to them in her raggedy voice.

  “We seek information on the Orb that surrounds the City of Minzkala, Hag,” Kraevit said in a threatening manner.

  “I will give you the information, but first you must promise me something in return.”

  He looked at her hard and said, “We will make no promises.”

  The Hag turned from the window and rose from her chair. Her back was hunched over, and she walked with a cane. A yellow shroud draped down her back and her arms were stiffly bent from arthritis. Her face was old and wrinkled, her nose
big, her eyes white from cataracts and nearly blind.

  She made her way to the small table in the center of the room. There was a large black pot in the middle with bottles and vials of herbs and potions to the side. The Digvi’jans placed their hands on their weapons, ready to draw should she try something stupid. Instead, she took a pinch of herbs from a bowl, special scrying herbs, and threw them into the pot.

  “Then you will get no information. It is impossible for a Seer to give without receiving. Kill me if you want; that is out of my control,” she told him.

  “What is it that you want?” he asked.

  “More souls,” she began, “My minions are low in number. There is hope in Maralune and with its presence; very few warriors come this way. They must be Humans, for my magic does not work on other races.”

  She reached for a case full of empty vials, “Each one of these will capture fifteen souls. Once you open the vial, any human soul nearby, filled with pride, lust or hopelessness will be drawn from the body and trapped in the vial. Once the body is destroyed, I will be able to use the soul. I can’t think of a better place to collect them than on the battlefield. Simply close the vial after fifteen souls have entered and bring them to me.”

  Kraevit struggled to understand her plan, but in his haste to get the information on Minzkala, he simply told the witch, “Consider it done, Hag.”

  “Good. But know this. Should you fail on your end of the bargain, your soul will be mine. Yours and all who are with you. I may not get my warriors that way, but I have plenty of things I can do with the souls of the other races.”

  She picked up an oaken rod and began to stir her pot. She closed her eyes and went into some sort of trance-like state, her eyes rolling back into her head. She rotated her head all around and rocked back and forth. Then she grew still.

  She began to chant, “If Minzkala is what you seek, look to the heart of the forest. Locate and enter as you please, but only though one’s death.”