Medallion of the Undead

by Anthony Rudzki

  “They are birds of prey. Scavengers that feed on the dead. They can be very patient with the dying.” Jenor said, suddenly lightened up a bit. “Of course, if the Ochon don’t appear, there’s a good chance they made it to the top, through the pass, and---well, who knows?” Jenor shrugged his shoulders.

  “Anyway,” Jenor continued, “see this spot I’ve marked? Make sure you bring some stout rope. It’ll make the crossing easier.”

  “Okay,” Kyle said, taking it all in.

  “Finally, the path at the top will lead just to a large crack in the stone, large enough for a man to fit through easily. Don’t enter there. You can get through the pass, but it is very dangerous that way. Broken stones that have edges sharp as broken glass litter the ground. There is a black mold growing along some of the walls that can make you very sick, even causing death. Finally, there is magic residing in the narrows up there. A dark magic.” Jenor took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t…just don’t go that way.”

  “If that way is so bad, how can we get through?” Adam piped in from behind the two.

  Jenor looked over his shoulder. “Tell you what I can do, I’ll finish this tonight, and add all the detail you need.”

  Jenor folded up the map and slid it into a deep pocket. “First thing in the morning, all right? I’m boarding over the Redstone General Store.” Jenor walked to the door and opened it.

  He stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

  * * * *

  Kyle and Adam walked down the narrow street and stopped near a general store. There were several other small buildings nearby, but those were run down derelicts, shuttered and in disrepair. The general feeling of the collection of buildings was one of despair and a level of crime that left Kyle feeling uneasy.

  “I don’t know about this, Adam,” Kyle said, stepping closer to his friend so he could keep his voice low. He had a feeling eyes were on them from behind tattered window coverings.

  “This is the address he described. Maybe we have it wrong, though. I don’t see an inn anywhere.” Adam looked around one more time and then tugged at his friend’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

  Before they could move, a deep voice boomed from the doorway of the general good store.

  “Can I help you?” A monster of a man, wearing a dirty, white, full-length apron, and polishing a crystal glass with a tattered cloth stepped out onto the porch. He pushed the cloth into the glass with three fingers, since that was all .he could fit inside the glass.

  “We were looking for someone, but we have the wrong address,” Adam said, his eyes darting from the proprietor’s deeply lined, shaggy-haired head to the thick arms that threatened to split the sleeves of his rough cotton shirt.

  “Wrong address, huh?” The man smiled, but Kyle didn’t feel any warmth from it. “Who are you looking for?”

  “A man named Jenor. He’s…” Kyle started to reply but stopped when he saw the thick hand pull free of the glass and open, revealing a callused palm.

  “Yeah, I know Jenor. He is renting the loft over my store. There is a staircase in the back, but I don’t know if you’ll find him up there. He owes me about a week’s rent and has been avoiding me the last couple of days. Last night I heard a ruckus up there, but rather than me leave my warm bed to check it out, I figured I’d talk to him today. Maybe get the money he owes me. You friends of his?”

  “No, we just met him,” Adam said.

  The shopkeeper eyed the two young men. “Well, you’re welcome to go up there to see if you missed him or not. If he’s up there, let him know I need the rent and he needs to keep the noise down. Understand?”

  Kyle and Adam both agreed with a nod of their heads and headed for the stairs. They almost reached the top when they noticed the door was open several inches. Looking at one another and then back to the door, they finished climbing the stairs and Kyle pushed the door open. It swung wide without the screech of rusty hinges that Kyle was expecting.

  They entered the small room and found it neat and tidy. Everything appeared to be in place. Fitted into the wall opposite the doorway they had come in, was another door.

  “Jenor,” Kyle called out, but there was no reply.

  “Adam, look in that room,” Kyle said, pointing at the door he assumed was a bedroom. Adam poked his head into the small room and stepped back.

  “Nothing in there but an unmade bed. I think he may have left town.”

  Adam sat down on a wooden chair pushed up against the wall. He looked over at Kyle who was kneeling next to the cold fireplace, staring at the ashes. He saw him reach in and pull out a small piece of singed paper.

  “What’s that?” Adam asked.

  Kyle tilted his head back and released a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling. “Jenor burned the map.”

  “What?”

  “When we were discussing the pass he started the map. I recognize a couple of the symbols on this piece that he showed us yesterday,” Kyle said.

  “Amber’s death must have hit him harder than he let on.”

  “Maybe. It just seems odd, that’s all. We’ll have to go from memory then. It would have just been easier if he could have led us up to the pass,” Kyle said, heading toward the door.

  “Ready to go? Adam?” Kyle asked, when his friend dropped to one knee at the edge of a small rug in the center of the room.

  Adam touched a discoloration in the middle of the rug and then grabbed the edge of the cloth and flipped it over. The burgundy-colored stain hidden by the rug could only be one thing.

  Blood.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Legan tugged on the rope again, signaling the ascent was safe enough to continue onward. He looked up, shielding his eyes from the midday sun, at the top of the mountain. The pass was somewhere ahead, further up.

  The path thus far had been treacherous in spots, just as Jenor reported. Using teamwork, they were able to safely continue upward. He couldn’t imagine a climber attempting to make it to the summit alone.

  He looked below his station and saw Delas grabbing for a handhold and pulling herself upward. Close on her heels were the others.

  The path finally smoothed into a gentle zigzag that climbed at a steady gradual slope. As he turned the last corner, he saw some rock formations ahead surrounded by sparse clumps of yellowed grasses.

  Legan climbed the rise and waited for the others to join him. He wasn’t very happy about needing to cross through the mountain. He would have been happier if they could have found an overland route around or even up and over the top.

  A few minutes later, everyone except for Kyle collected around a wide crack between two stones.

  “I have another gap here,” Kyle called from a short distance away.

  Delas touched the rough stone near the first opening, grimacing as she did so. She walked to Kyle’s side and touched the stone near the second opening. She touched several other places and turned to the others.

  “There is something wrong with that entrance. I can feel…something.”

  “Jenor said there was some dark magic in the passage,” Adam said.

  “In the wrong passage,” Kyle said.

  “We’ll go this way.” He said, gesturing to the others. Leading the way, Legan trooped onward, followed by Delas, Adam and finally Kyle.

  * * * *

  Legan could feel the cold wind blow over his face and breathed the chilled air deep into his lungs. He exhaled and lifted his burning torch higher. With his free hand, he felt for the rope tied to his waist and ensured the tension was still there. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the glow of Delas’ torch down the passageway.

  “Damned passages,” he muttered to himself. He leaned against the cold wall to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and thought of the past.

  In his younger years, he would work from sunrise to sunset hauling great sacks of chipped stone from the underground mines of his family clan, and then spend hours in riotous parties, trading tales over pints of ale. F
or all the merriment that capped the end to a hard day, he had a darker, angry side. A side where his temper would sometimes get the better of him.

  “We’re almost there,” he called down the tunnel, his voice echoing slightly. He could now see his breath hover for a moment and then disappear in the moving air. He searched the walls for the telltale signs of weakened stone ready to fall. He held the torch higher and the wide crack-like shadow that had spooked him was only a sedimentary seam. He pulled a cloth from his pocket, wiped his nose and then the sweat from his brow.

  It had been nearly a year after the blast that had killed his mother. He was mapping a seam, when suddenly the tunnel filled with a thick dust and a thunderous noise. The collapse of their newest long wall had almost been disastrous for the lot of them, but his crew managed to escape with only bruised egos, a little spilled blood and few lasting scars. When he made it up to the surface, his father came down on him about the accident. As the two went back and forth, the intensity of their argument increased until it finally turned physical, both of them scoring blows on the other and neither escaping without drawing blood.

  By the following morning, he’d packed the few belongings he owned and walked away from his father and his clan. He told himself as the mine disappeared behind him that he was doing the right thing for himself and vowed to never enter a mine again.

  “And here I am again,” he said, looking to the walls again, “not quite a mine, but…”

  He stopped when he realized he’d finally come to the exit of the tunnel. He squinted in the bright light of the sun reflecting off the snow covered stone around him and the huge plain spread out before him. At the far end of the mountain- encircled plain was a lone marker. A black finger pointing skyward, but it didn’t have any features he could make out at such a distance.

  He absently gave the rope at his waist several tugs as he kept his eyes fixed on the lone black tower in the distance.

  * * * *

  Legan lead the group as they descended from the opening of the pass through the mountain. He scouted out paths as he made his way. He stood by like a mother hen as the others marched past him, slipping into the line as he brought up the rear. When the path opened up, he made his way back to the front and began the process anew. This continued for the first hour since he spotted daylight in the tunnel.

  He stepped around a large outcropping of stone and paused as he caught his breath, waiting for the others to reach his position. As they all filed in, they formed a close grouping, appreciating what little warmth their closeness provided. The wind blew strong around them, tossing the loose flaps of their coats.

  Kyle leaned in close to Legan, cupping his hand around his mouth to cut out the noise from the wind.

  “How much longer before we reach the base of the mountain?”

  Legan stepped to the edge of the wide path and looked out and down over the rough stones below them. His eyes traced an imaginary path downward through the stones, into the sparse sprinkling of evergreens and down into the thick forest at the base of the mountain. He stepped back from the group, slipping several times on small patches of snow-covered ice.

  “We could probably make the plain by midday, if we climbed down through the night. I’m worried someone could slip and get injured if we try to travel too quickly. With this weather, the going will be tough.”

  “Slow going sounds good to me. If it gets too bad, the weather or the climbing, we may have to stop and make camp,” Kyle said, turning away.

  Legan grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

  “One other thing. I am a bit worried about traveling over the plain during the day. We may stand out if anyone is keeping a close eye from the tower.” Legan pointed out in the direction of the tower, even though it was now obscured by a thick mist covering the Eastern end of the plain.

  “There could be bandits, Kurilan’s patrols or any manner of nastiness out there traveling the plains, preying on those foolish enough to wander through the pass. I think we’ll have more to worry about than just being seen from the tower.”

  Legan snorted. “Well, now I feel much better.”

  “With any luck, maybe the mist will help us,” Kyle said.

  “Possibly, and if it doesn’t?”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Kyle said, taking a quick look at Legan, darting his eyebrows up and down several times and then walked back to the group.

  * * * *

  They crouched down in the high grass at the edge of a small crop of trees at the base of the mountain. They’d been there all day, staying out of sight, but watching the movement of the various patrols.

  “What are those?” Kyle asked in a whisper, pointing at one of the patrols. As he watched, one of the members shoved the one in front of him when he slowed his march.

  “Those are Orcs. They’re big and strong but not very bright,” Legan said.

  The Orcs were muscular humanoids, with mottled light green skin. Most of the members of the loose patrol were clothed in various pieces of worn leather armor. They carried short swords or daggers at their belts and metal-tipped spears or halberds.

  The Orc patrols traveled over the plain. Darkness was falling and they kept close to the tower, and didn’t look very enthusiastic about their security tasks.

  “See that outcropping? I haven’t seen a patrol cross on our side all day,” Kyle said, pointing at the rock.

  “So it looks like we’re safe to stay here as long as we need,” Adam replied.

  “Yes, that’s what I think.”

  “If we tried to weave our way through them, we would be seen by easily a dozen patrols,” Adam said.

  Legan who was listening at their elbows, whispered, “At least we have the overcast night on our side. There will be no full moon lighting up the whole countryside. If we can somehow sneak inside...”

  “We would have to find Jennifer and then either stop Kurilan somehow or force him to remove the bond between the medallion and me,” Kyle said.

  “Do you think it will be that easy? I have a feeling if he has the chance, he won’t hesitate to free the medallion from you and bind it to himself. Then he’ll find the other two artifacts and raise an undead army along the way. Do you think he’ll let you…us…live to sound the alarm?” Legan said.

  “So we wait until nightfall and try to sneak in?” Adam asked.

  “I think it will be more than just overcast tonight. I smell rain in the air and plenty of it. I think we wait until the rains arrive, and use that as cover to approach the tower,” Kyle said.

  An hour after nightfall, just as Kyle predicted, the few visible stars in the sky were blotted out by the clouds that poured in and blanketed the sky. They heard the distant rumbling of thunder. When the laden clouds finally opened up, visibility was reduced to yards and high winds pulled at their clothes. The hoods on their cloaks were buffeted and eventually provided little protection from the blowing rain.

  The small group made their way toward the tower, being mindful of any movement that might signal a guard patrol. The rain seemed to have driven the Orcs inside. They reached the huge wooden door where they saw the patrols enter the tower, and clustered along one side of it.

  Legan grabbed the iron ring and planted his feet. “Ready?” he asked, and waited until the others pulled their weapons in case the room on the other side of the door still contained an active patrol.

  He yanked on the iron ring, ready for the door to swing open.

  It failed to budge. Locked.

  * * * *

  “Well, in through the front door isn’t going to work,” Kyle said, watching Legan pull on the ring again, to no avail. He put his sword back in its sheath and turned to speak to Adam and found he and Delas were gone.

  Kyle stepped back and looked to the left. Through the rain, he could see two figures down close to the ground twenty yards away.

  “Come on,” he shouted to Legan, pulling on the dwarf’s soaked cloak.

  They headed
in that direction, Kyle walking with his hand on the pommel of his weapon. When he got closer, he saw that it was indeed Adam and Delas. Adam was waist deep in a foul-smelling pool of brackish water and Delas was speaking to him, while holding her nose.

  “What are you two doing? And what by the gods are you bathing in?” Kyle asked, wincing as he got a strong whiff of the stench He was glad it was raining, since it took some of the odor away.

  “I had a thought. If there are as many guards housed in this tower as we think, they would have to feed them. I think this is where the kitchen waste is dumped. At least that’s what I hope it is. From the smell, I’m not sure, but there seems to be plenty of the type of waste I would expect to find. If not, then these orcs can’t digest their food well at all,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

  “So what is your plan, lad?” Legan asked, peering into the dark opening in the tower’s rocky foundation.

  “I’ll head into this tunnel and see where it goes. Maybe it leads nowhere or maybe it’ll be a way inside.”

  “You’ll need a torch,” Kyle said.

  “Here. This might be better,” Delas said, handing him a small glass marble. The talisman emitted a soft green glow that was strong enough to see out to several feet, but not much more.

  “I’ll be back,” Adam said to Kyle, and then he turned his gaze to Delas. “Thanks.”

  Adam stepped into the opening, a green light casting sickly shadows around him as he advanced. The sound of rats was unmistakable and dozens of them burst from the opening and ran into the open field between their feet.

  They stood there not saying anything to one another, while the rain continued to crash down on their backs. The rats and their sounds dwindled and now the only sound they could hear was the rain.

  Time seemed to drag on in the steady hum of the falling rain. Kyle looked at Legan, but the dwarf was steadily looking into the tunnel’s darkness. Kyle wondered if dwarves were gifted with better night vision than humans. He glanced into the darkness again, realized how futile it was and turned to look at Delas.

  She was also staring into the opening, but was absently chewing a fingernail ragged. Her fingers were filthy, but she didn’t seem to notice or care as she worked the nail.