City of the Gods - Starybogow

by Rospond, Brandon; Kostka, Jan; Werner, CL

  “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh fatgn.” The longer they kept the election in limbo, the most they could consolidate their forces. He would order a troop of men toward the Lithuanian border; surely the boy-Duke would try to move people across to block any moves the Knights and their agents might make. He would move some agents toward the town as well. Better yet, use some of the unsuspecting ones under the guise of a quest.

  *****

  Adalbert felt himself slowly coming around. It was not like waking up from a sleep, but how he imagined it would be after drinking too much wine – if he drank wine. Slowly he was able to focus and he came rushing back to reality like jumping from a height; then he was able to concentrate. He was in the common room, but with little recollection of how he got there. His cassock was torn and muddy, and he was starting to shiver, but at the same time he was sweating profusely. He tried to stand and lost his balance. He grabbed the side of the bed and steadied himself. He stood there clutching his arms together, then fell into a heap. The next thing he knew, several of the brothers were surrounding him as well as the assistant Monsignor Urza.

  They brought him to one of the benches and sat him down. As usual, Witold was in the front feigning concern. Brother Urza moved them all aside and gave Adalbert some water with a little brandy in it.

  “Brother,” Urza placed a hand on Adalbert’s shoulder. He bent down to Adalbert and spoke in a low clam voice. “What happened to you? Where is Brother Wotjek?” Urza’s eyes were piecing blue and once focused on Adalbert, felt like it would reach into his soul.

  At the sound of his companion’s name, Brother Adalbert sprung back to the present. He could not remember much, but something about his brother jarred his memory. “I… I don’t know. Brother Wotjek convulsed, then there were quakes, and then, I… I…” and his voice trailed off.

  The brothers mumbled to each other and Adalbert felt his head swimming. The rest of the brothers started talking amongst themselves. Some spoke to Adalbert, but to him it all sounded like a dull hum flowing through his brain.

  “Silence!” A voice boomed across the room, but there was no mistaking it; it was Brother Ulric the brother-militant, the disciplinarian of the monastery. “Bring him to my chambers,” his voice dropped lower, but it was just as stern. The brothers knew to just do as they were told and helped Adalbert toward the brother-militant’s cell. Brother Ulric had white blond hair that was unruly and always with stubble, but never quite a beard and never clean shaven. His long moustache drooped around his mouth. His flaxen robe was tied with two ox-tails made into a belt and he always carried a staff of myrtle-wood.

  There were some hurried whispers along the way. Several of the brothers had suffered fits when the quake hit. He passed Brother Anselmo’s cell with people running in and out. There was blood in several places along the walk as if a brutal, fight had occurred. He was brought to the brother-militant’s cell and placed in a chair opposite Ulric, who waved the rest of the brothers away except for Urza. “What do you remember?”

  Adalbert attempted to put the pieces back together. There was the earth moving, shaking; houses falling and people in the street. He was helping Wojtek, then it all went hazy. He only remembered fire and blood and the little man. The karzełek. Or maybe it wasn’t real. He was not sure. He just shook his head and repeated he wasn’t sure.

  Ulric looked up at Urza, who was standing to the side of Adalbert and raised his eyebrows. The brother then leaned in to Adalbert and spoke to him in a low voice. “Brother, we are at war with many evil things today. Our monastery has been grievously hurt, but it is time for you to take a more active role. You are not aware yet, but you possess important powers for the upcoming battles. I know that you spend time with the faithful of the old Slavic ways. Be prepared to use your faith of the old ways with those of the new faith. We shall guide you in what must be done.”

  *****

  Ulric and Urza entered the chambers of the Monsignor Stanisław. The head of the monastery was hunched over his table as if asleep. Ulric gently shook the old man. He gave a quick start but then recovered.

  “Too tired; too much going on to hold back the darkness with our meager forces. Is Anselmo better?”

  Urza sat down opposite him, while Ulric stood behind him. “Brother, they have affected a breech. Anselmo has closed it for now, but we don’t know what has made it through – some of ours, some of theirs. We need to take action. It may be time to return to our ways.”

  Stanisław sat up and it seemed as if twenty years disappeared from his face. There was a commotion in the corner and all three turned to look. It was the Lekka and Vekka, the domovoi and kikimora, or household spirits of the monastery. They had been listening and fell off their hiding place when they heard Urza’s statement. They were small hairy creatures, these house spirits. Although they were nominally male and female, it was difficult to tell which was which.

  The one called Lekka stood up and helped Vekka up, or maybe Vekka helped Lekka. He could never be sure. “I think that is a good idea, Belobog.”

  Stanisław held up his hand to stop the creature, “Stan-is-swav,” he said slowly. Pointing his finger as if to accent each syllable.

  Lekka lowered his head, but kept eyes on the monsignor. “Oh yes, sorry Bel-…Stanisław. I have heard things; things from the bannik and vodyanoy that the rusalka are coming back in numbers, while the leshy and vila have seen things beyond the Bies. They say the ladies have returned.”

  Urza rubbed his beard through all this, trying to take this in. The rusalka were the mermaid like creatures that skulked along the river. They were always there for as long as he could remember. They were both good and mischievous, but the ladies were another matter. Polunocnica, ‘Lady Midnight’, and Pscipolnitsa, ‘Lady Midday’, were demons who hunted down children at night and attacked workers in the field. They were not seen for years, and under normal circumstances they would be bad enough, but what had happened in the town required desperate action to protect the people of this area.

  “We have to act quickly to restore the balance. The vampyr and undead have taken over parts of the city and some of the rusalka have started attacking ships.”

  Ulric jumped in. “We can send some of the brothers to help the militia. They will be overwhelmed if they haven’t been already. See if our friends among the karzełek can help us through the caverns. If we don’t keep the dark ones in check the city could be lost.”

  *****

  Grun checked the street for any sign of the creatures. He knew that once there was a lull in the fighting they would have an opportunity to search for treasure. The battles had gone back and forth in the streets for what seemed an hour. The town militia had pushed some of the monstrosities back until those shadows of humanity attacked. Some of the locals then joined in to clear out this section of the city. It was quiet for now, but it was an uneasy quiet. There were opportunities here. Everyone had heard the stories of the Scythian treasures buried beneath the city, but no one had ever found anything. But now; now there were tunnels, and where there were tunnels, there was the possibility of treasure, granted they survive long enough in the unknown below.

  There were still some fire smoldering where houses had been aflame; what had saved them from spreading was that many had collapsed into holes, which in itself was a miracle. He spit three times and crossed himself. He gave a short whistle and what was left of his associates appeared. The only one that did not come out was Zek. He was dead, he had turned and Grun had to kill him. He had seen it all living on the fringe. He grew up hearing stories of those people that mysteriously turned back in the days when the knights ruled the city, and he knew what to do when that happened. The first time he’d seen it he was a little slow and almost got himself killed, so when Zek’s eyes turned black he knew what to do – take off the head; everything else was temporary.

  “Alright, boys. Let’s see what we can find before the authorities stop this little party.” Technically they were not all men, but Wanda an
d Rose fought as well as any of them. Living by the docks did that to a person.

  Grun gave Jan One a nudge to lead the way down one of the sinkholes. Jan Two followed him along with Wanda, Rose, Bolek, and finally Grun.They had the blackout lamps they used for smuggling along the river. The lanterns they carried spread little light in the tunnels – this was done purposely so they didn’t alert people of their presence. Grun was always concerned that somehow his red hair would still give him away in the dark. While some of the areas looked as if they were hued out of limestone, others appeared as if they were part of buildings that were covered up over time. There were some niches in hallways that looked like doorways, but were solid; then there were rooms off other halls, one with a pool formed. The structure that was above must have been empty. There was no silver or even brass at the bottom of the sinkhole. Only the remnants of burnt wood were left in most places. It seemed like anything salvageable had been destroyed or taken by other people.

  In addition to the hallways, there were stairs leading up and down – carved or chiseled out of living rock, but in some cases it was clear they were built by masons. There were a couple of times when they thought they heard someone or something approaching and closed the shutter on their lanterns, hiding in one of the niches. When they thought it was safe, they emerged only to find themselves face to face with what looked like Zek only to have him blink out. They let out an audible breath, Jan One stammered a “Maybe we should be going”, which was seconded by Jan Two. They all started moving in the opposite direction, while Grun kept looking down the other; nodding in agreement to no one there.

  Grun followed his crew without knowing where they were going. They came up to a large room off to the right. There were stone columns interspersed throughout, surrounding a pool. Torches lit some of the central area, but there were shadows around much of the room. It smelled bad like turned meat, with a metallic tang in the air. On either side was a stone platform with the remnants of bodies visible, which brought the group to a crunching halt – the last people in the group bumping into the forward folks.

  There were several rooms that were barely visible off the main room, but the glint of gold got their attention. At once, the group abandoned the torches and moved as one body toward the riches; greed painted plain as day upon each of their faces. It wasn’t treasure lying in a heap like some abandoned karzełek horde, but a series of oddly shaped golden statues. The crew fell on them like ants trying to hack off bits to carry off or move them from their pedestals even if they were not going to be easily moved. The figures carved as statues seemed to be parodies of humans – misshaped with feral characteristics. They were placed in niches in locations that seemed like they were ready to jump out of the shadows. Grun was in the middle of carving apart one of the statues when something caught his eye further in the room, and then made his stomach drop, feeling ill at the sight before him.

  The Teutonic Knights had been mostly thrown out of Starybogow after the Ten Years War of the early 1400’s, when it was called Querstadt. It was said the knights that garrisoned the town participated in unholy practices. They did not leave willingly when they did go. Grun then realized these were mock visages of knights – tattered surcoats, lesions on their faces, exposed flesh, and a dead look in their eyes. Their swords were coated with a dark patina. The lead one pointed his gloved hand at the small group and started to mumble in an incoherent tongue. The smell of heated metal soon filled the room and it seemed the pool began to glow. The parody knight stepped forward and grabbed at Wanda, who had wandered close to him. Prior to that she was almost sleepwalking, but at that moment she and the others awoke to the realization of what was happening. Her screams died quickly as the swords stabbed her on one of the stone blocks. Those that were left were under-armed and their only means of escape blocked.

  Grun quickly realized if more of the monsters followed, they would all be dead soon enough. If they could keep the one at bay and take them on one at a time, maybe time would give him an answer; he pushed Rose and Bolek forward. Although they had short knives against the sword, the knight had very little room to maneuver and they didn’t have a reach, so it quickly settled into a standoff of parries and thrusts with each side waiting for the other to overcommit or make a mistake. Years of street fighting were perfect for this, but it could not last. When the three knights behind the lead were done killing Wanda they tried stabbing at the gang behind their commander, pressing forward. At one point Bolek found an opening and stabbed the knight in the chest, but he was stabbed by one of the knight behind whom then pushed into the room.

  Bolek fell to the ground and was pulled out by one of the creatures. The stabbed knight then pulled the knife out of chest and took a step toward the survivors when a bright light flashed.

  *****

  The brothers were quickly organized by Ulric and they advanced through the passageway and quietly down the stone hall. Turning a corner, they came up against two of the demon knights. The knights assumed a defensive stance, as if by muscle memory with shields up and swords pointed. The brothers were armed with swords and halberds provided by Ulric. Finally, the special training that Ulric had put them through finally came to benefit. The sword felt light in Adalbert’s hand. As they got closer to the sound of fighting and the dead knights appeared, the sword started to glow in his hands. This was not happening with the other brothers, but Adalbert felt power growing in his sword and his arm. The dead knights had slower reflexes, which were taken advantage by the brothers who quickly overwhelmed them. Adalbert rushed to the front, parrying several thrusts and decapitating the creatures after a short fight. Ulric followed behind, armed only with a staff when they entered the summoning room.

  The pool was already filling with blood and water and more demonic knights had some humans surrounded - ready to finish them off, while a human held a scroll calling out an incantation. A portal was opening in the pool as a red scaly talon was just breaking the surface of a swirling vortex. Ulric stood for a second in concentration. He had not been able to summon lightning for many years, but he felt the power surge in his body and casting his hands toward the pool, he let loose a light bolt to neutralize the incantations, filling the room with light and a loud crack. The human with the scroll was thrown back against a column. This was quickly followed by a howl as the entities trying to come through the portal were returned to where they came from. All that effort took energy from Ulric and he slumped for a second, leaning against his staff. He felt dizzy for a moment, but quickly recovered.

  “This never gets easy,” he muttered, moving forward.

  The decadent knights were stopped in their attack on the humans and turned to face the brothers. The monks moved with enhanced speed with Adalbert leading the way, isolating and killing the creatures before coming upon the humans.

  “Who are you?!” Ulric’s voice was already amplified by the acoustics in the chamber, but he had enhanced it using his inner voice. The humans tried to form a circle to protect themselves, confused by the arrival of the monks but really they couldn’t do much against the brothers in the open. “Put down your arms.” He paused; when they hesitated Ulric boomed, “Now!” The humans hesitated for a moment, then milled around in a circle, they seemed half in a trance and half drunk, but not sure what to do. Then they complied. He point to the one who seemed to be in charge with the red hair, and motioned him along with the rest. The ruffian pulled himself up into stiff, formal pose, and smoothed out his hair; he seemed far more awake than the others.

  “Who are you?! What are you going to do to us?” He jabbed with his knife, keeping them away. Adalbert shook his head at the shaking blade.

  Ulric approached with palms down, “Calm down fellow. We mean you no harm, but you need to put those weapons away.”

  “I’ve seen you,” he stammered, “I know you. You’re from the monastery. But you’re no priest. You want this gold don’t you? It’s ours. We found it.” And with that he moved back toward the statues.
>
  “No one should take that. It is cursed, made with blood and madness,” Ulric then motioned for them to leave. “Go, go now while you can. I’ll send one of my men to show you the way out.”

  With hesitation, Grun heard the words from Ulric and seemed to nod, but didn’t move at first, as if he heard but didn’t necessarily understand. Then, as if it suddenly sunk in he nodded and started to shuffle away. The others blithely walked as if they were dazed. As he went past Ulric, the priest paused him.

  “One more thing,” then blew dust he had in his hands into the face of the human and he dropped like a stone. He then motioned to Jan One and Two to take their companion and follow one of the brothers. “He will have a knot on the side of his head where he hit the floor, but he won’t remember why. Give him a couple of coppers for stalling those creatures, then block up this entrance so the servants of the old ones can’t use it. Burn the bodies of their companions so they can’t come back to life,” then he turned on his heel and led his companions in search of any more portals. The brothers eventually returned to the monastery to regroup.

  At that point Adalbert realized he had been touched by the Slavic Gods. By concentrating and summoning that power he could unleash the wrath of the gods, but it took its toll on him. While it surged through him he felt great power, but after he started to shake with cold as the power drained from him.

  He braced himself on a wall for a moment, shaking the spots from his eyes as the dizziness from his mind, before he prepared for the return trip.

  *****

  Grun woke up in an alley near the Spitting Pig tavern with the other three, not the least bothered that the others of the gang were nowhere to be seen. He had some coppers in his pocket and a bottle. He must have gotten into a row after drinking – his head hurt, he was fuzzy, and didn’t feel well. One and Two were sprawled out along with Rose. “I guess it was a good night.”