The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  “Little good it does you now, friends,” he said with a solemn voice as he climbed to his feet.

  “It’s time to go, you must hurry,” said a loud voice.

  Startled, Dom jumped and looked around. When he realized he was alone, he hurried over to the nearest window. As he looked out from his hidden vantage point, he saw that the palace courtyard was just a half a block away, and it was teeming with goblins. The dwarf’s already-pounding heart sunk in his chest.

  “You must go now,” urged the voice.

  “And what am I to do with all of that?” he said as he flung his hand dramatically toward the enemy forces.

  “Dominar, do you trust me?” asked the voice.

  “Of course!”

  “Dominar, do you trust me?” the voice asked again.

  “You know I do!”

  “Then follow me,” roared the voice which now called out from across the room.

  There, right before his eyes, a vortex of cobalt flames spun into the avatar of a great fiery lion. The head of the blazing beast rose higher than the dwarf’s own head, and its broad shoulders were twice his width. The majestic creature turned and set his gaze upon the dwarf. Dominar was struck by the intensity in the creature’s eyes, by the passion.

  Thunder rolled as the beast spoke. “Follow me.”

  The fiery lion turned and sprang through the front door. Dom had to fight through the initial hesitation that came from the sheer awe of what he had just seen.

  “Go!” he shouted, even as precious seconds slipped away before his legs obeyed the command.

  He sprinted out into the streets after the lion. Goblin’s heads snapped up in response to the mighty lion’s roar. Their dark yellow eyes grew wide in terror as the cobalt beast charged into the courtyard. Frantic goblins scrambled every which way in an attempt to flee, not knowing the beast’s ire was not for them this day. Instead the blazing avatar raced toward the palace, with the dwarf in surprisingly close pursuit.

  Dom ran with all of his might. He didn’t know what they were doing, but he figured he was in good hands, so he ran. Those stout little tree trunks he called legs moved faster than they’d ever moved before, but that isn’t what left him in awe. The way that the enemies scattered at the mere sight of the lion was empowering. It was also reassuring to know that the lion was actually there. For a moment in that house, Dom had wondered if he might have been hallucinating. Now, as his boots hammered on the beautiful tiles of the king’s palace, he realized this was all very real. It was time to save his friends.

  THE DARKLORD STEPPED through the temporal rift and the fiery clouds of wasps swarmed to him and began to circle him. The living vortex swelled as the being stood up to his full height. The frightening figure towered well over seven feet tall, with massive membraned wings. Sharp bone-like protrusions jutted from all over the demon’s scarred body, the most prominent ones stretched forth from his abdomen and his shoulders. The demon’s oily black skin oozed with a thick black substance that burned with hungry flames.

  Something strangely human hid behind the demon’s brilliant green eyes. He nodded toward the groveling goblin king, then he turned and offered a sly smile toward Theros and the others.

  “You’ve done well, Groknahl. These ones will do just fine.”

  “Pleased to serve you, Lord Rash-kranish. I knew you’d want to kill them first.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to kill them, Groknahl,” said the Darklord.

  “What? Why? They are not believers, my lord?”

  “Because there are things far worse than death. Besides, didn’t you say that I’d make believers of them?” said the demon with a maniacal laugh.

  The goblin king’s concern was not gone, but a new wave of understanding washed over him. He grinned wickedly and nodded with anticipation.

  Rash-kranish raised his arm and stretched his clawed hand toward the prisoners. “The first lesson is the punishment for unbelief.”

  A swarm of wasps darted forward on his command. Kiriana screamed as the magical storm slammed against the unseen shield. The sorcery fell away like the harmless droplets of water bouncing off the leaves of a great oak. Duroc’s defenses held for a moment longer, and then the oak leaf buckled under the weight of the second barrage.

  The screams were unlike anything Theros had heard before, and he fully understood why, because he was screaming too. The conjured wasps had broken through the invisible barrier. The once incorporeal insects were intangible no more. It seemed as if they had a mind of their own, biting and stinging at every inch of exposed flesh. The prisoners tried to duck and cover, but their chains prevented it. Their wounds instantly swelled under the effects of the wasps’ bites, leaving their bodies covered with throbbing sores of swollen and puckered flesh.

  The screams of agony were interrupted by thunder. A rushing storm wind surged through the cavern in the thunder’s wake, and it swept the savage magic away. Theros turned his red, swollen face toward the coming storm. Bright white and blue light flashed in the distance, then in an instant, it was gone.

  What came next, Theros would never forget.

  “Go!” commanded the voice.

  As Dom obeyed the final command and charged forward, his guide vanished—exploding into a brilliant mist of white and blue particles. Before his heart could falter, words of courage filled his mind. Go, I am with you.

  Dom’s own rebuke was instantaneous. “What a fool am I? Shall I sink into the pit of despair to save my life, when I could soar above the storm winds of doubt on wings of faith? No, it is better to charge into the face of death with the shield of faith, than to live without hope.”

  The gray-bearded dwarf charged past the stunned, onlooking goblins that filled the sanctum. Their dumbfounded looks said it all. The black skinned demon cocked his head sideways as he watched the crazed dwarf charge him. Rash-kranish’s expression grew confused, but he did not let the dwarf’s lunacy catch him off guard. With a growl, the demon jerked his clawed hand forward and barked a guttural command. Newly formed wasps shot forth from the palm of his hand.

  Large fiery wasps slammed into the dwarf with malice. Dom cried out as dozens of teeth and stingers sunk into his flesh. Overwhelming pain fought to steal his breath away. His legs did not relent though, and they carried his aching body toward the grand altar. I am with you.

  The searing pain of burning magic flooded through his body. Dom screamed at the top of his lungs, and he charged forward. He was just a few yards from the altar.

  The demon scoffed as the dwarf pushed forward, and he called down another curse. An iron yoke materialized at the demon’s behest and fell hard upon the dwarf’s shoulders. His back and neck were doubled over under the great weight. Dom’s strength had failed and his exhausted body gave out and he fell to one knee.

  I am with you.

  New, incomprehensible strength gave resilience to his collapsing body. Determination welled up inside of him amidst the mired clay of agony. The dwarf tilted his head back and roared defiantly as he arched his back and drove his yoked body upward. Dominar rose to his feet and continued to push forward.

  “You think you can defy me? I’ll break you!” The enraged demon spat bile as he screamed.

  The demon threw a one-two punch. Magic exploded from his hands, sending heavy chains around each side of the yoke and fastening them down to the ground. Rusted iron chains were drawn tight against the skin of Dom’s arms before they violently jerked the old dwarf to his knees.

  Theros screamed as he strained against his bonds.

  Dom wailed. Tears poured from eyes, nearly swollen shut eyes, and pain shook his body beyond his control. Then the voice spoke one last time.

  I am with you.

  Dominar screamed through his tears. “Then save us!”

  “Who can save you from me?” snarled the demon as he drew closer, his grin widening.

  “Aneri’On,” gasped Dominar as he collapsed to the ground.

  “Where is your God now?” scre
amed the furious demon.

  A crack like thunder echoed in the sanctum and the earth began to rumble, the ground began to shake. Carved and un-carved stone alike began to crack and split under the seismic rumblings. Mortar crumbled and the dust started to drift into the air.

  “What’s happening?” shrieked Groknahl.

  Theros’ deep voice boomed, “I believe your god has provoked his maker for the last time.”

  “Curse his name,” shouted the demon as he fired a barrage of spiraling flames toward Theros.

  In Theros’ mind he replayed the words, an invitation to trust.

  He closed his eyes and whispered, “I will trust.”

  The demon’s flames twisted as they flew through the air. The ground shook with a mighty quake. Rock and stone broke free and heaved upward, making a wall in front of the shackled friends. The fire blasted the earthen wall, leaving charred and scorched marks upon its grayed surface.

  The Darklord raged. He gnashed his teeth and swore. The demon sprang forward like a jagrell on the hunt. He would tear them limb from limb with his bare hands. Blood red claws and fangs flashed as the demon lunged forward. Its body lurched to a halt in midair. The violent cessation of his momentum jerked his body as if he had slammed into an invisible wall. The demon howled and clawed at the unseen restraints.

  Theros and the others heard the screams and peered over their earthen barricade. What they saw, they would never forget. The demon hung perilously in the air, his feet dangling just above the ground. Then in that moment the demon transformed right before their eyes. What was a massive, black skinned demon was now reduced to a decrepit old man, both withered and broken.

  The fallen angel bitterly spat curses at the Ancient One as he struggled to break free. “May all your children rise against you and call you cursed!”

  A great voice boomed, “Karoth’del, you will tempt this world no longer.”

  The ground shook again as if in direct response to the demon’s bile. The stones beneath him cracked, split, and shattered. A torrent of yellow fire exploded upward from the broken ground, through the Darklord. Righteous flames devoured the demon, consuming every part of him. The sated fire died out, leaving nothing in its wake. The flames and the fallen angel, Karoth’del, were gone.

  The goblin king stood there in disbelief, his mouth agape. “No! This cannot be.”

  “Tried to tell you that your god was a fraud,” said Duroc with a nasty glare.

  Groknahl eyed the captives warily, then he turned and ran away while barking the order. “Kill them!”

  “That bastard!” shouted Duroc as he stomped his foot.

  All of the chaos had left the goblin forces in a state of complete disarray, but when the king called, they answered. Those that had already fled, doubled back at their king’s command. The swarms that were still in the sanctum charged the dais.

  “The age of the goblins has begun!” howled Groknahl.

  Armed goblins surged onto the dais from both sides, and the goblin king drew on the Elder Stones to summon the Qarii.

  Nal’drin said, “We’ve come all this way for this?”

  Theros roared, “I will trust you!”

  The iron chains that bound them shattered, the fragments falling away like crumbs from the table. They were free. Theros helped Sharka to her feet, then he turned to face the goblin horde. His eyes fell on his friend. Dominar’s body lay crumpled on the floor just before the dais. Then his eyes found the battle axe, Vrasch en Drak. Theros turned his eyes back toward his friend.

  Theros bellowed, “I am a Keeper of the Storm!”

  The unarmed orc took three steps and leapt from the altar. The wind blew. The force of the gale was undeniable as power surged through it, and through him. The gray orc’s eyes flickered with the unpredictable spark of lightning. Bright white currents arced out from his eyes and rippled over his gigantic figure. Theros stretched out his arms. A great whoosh reverberated through the sanctum as two hammers carved of dwarven iron flew off the table and shot through the air toward him. Emotions surged through the behemoth as he felt that familiar feeling of the worn leather grips slapping into his hands. His fingers wrapped around the grips, and he squeezed. It felt good. It felt right. Theros’ boots crashed down upon the unbroken stones near Dom’s body. The orc’s body heaved with electricity and anticipation, and like a whirlwind, he flew into battle.

  He spun and struck with all the rage and fury of a tempest. Theros wasn’t just the storm, he was the storm’s fury. The charged iron heads of his hammers wrought unrelenting mortal judgment upon his foes. Dozens of goblins surged forward only to be met with the orc’s thundering assault. For a brief moment, the gray-skinned warrior was a lightning vortex. When he stopped spinning, thirty-nine goblins laid about on the floor—utterly broken and charred. Theros reared back like a great beast and he roared. His animalistic challenge thundered throughout the sanctum. For a moment, the goblin horde fell backwards.

  The goblins sought to surround the orc, but they waited a few seconds too long. Sharka scrambled to retrieve her daggers from the table. With weapons in hand, she was the first to join Theros in battle, with the others soon to follow. What Theros, and the goblins, soon discovered was that Ynu’s grace was not his alone. The woman he loved and admired fought at his side, but she had been transformed. Theros stood stunned, as he stared at Sharka.

  The orc woman’s skin was a slick, almost mirrored surface like fine marble or granite. Striations of different colors tattooed her from head to toe, and the patterns moved as if they were alive. Silver eyes stared back at him.

  Despite their hesitation, dozens of goblins swarmed, with hundreds more on their way.

  “Save some for me, big boy,” said Sharka with a wink.

  She turned her face toward the onrushing goblins. She extended her right hand out toward the ground before them, then after making a fist, she jerked her hand upward. The earth shook as the floor ripped apart. Earth shot upward at the surging enemies. Earth, rock, and stone crushed nearly a dozen goblins, and forced the attackers to split to either side.

  Sharka shot him a quick smile. “Apparently, I’m a Keeper of the Earth.”

  Theros delivered a backhanded blow with his left hammer. The goblin was sent flying. “When’d you find out?”

  “Just now!” shouted Sharka before causing an earthen wall to rise up around them, protecting them from the left and right. Goblins on both sides were left tripping and scattering as the walls shot upward toward the ceiling. In just half a dozen breaths, the two orc warriors had felled over a hundred goblins, but hundreds of blood thirsty goblins began pouring into the sanctum.

  Theros jumped out of the way of a spear thrust, just in time to avoid being skewered. Sharka landed a right cross on the goblin’s jaw. His face was no match for her stoneskin. Theros swatted away two more spear attacks before smashing dwarven iron into a goblin shieldbearer. The old iron was no match. Theros fought to yank his hammer free, but the shield crumpled around the head of the hammer.

  Spears flew through the air toward him. Sharka lunged in front of him. The first spear slammed into her chest. The spear snapped upon impact, just before several more were blocked by her body.

  Kiriana looked at Nal’drin. “Let’s get to Dom!”

  He nodded back. They both leapt down from the dais and snatched their weapons from the table just in time to meet a wave of goblins. Nal’drin brought his blade down on an unsuspecting goblin and cut off the advance of a second, while Kiriana cut down another. They rushed to Dominar’s slumped body.

  “He’s still breathing. He must be passed out from the pain,” yelled Nal’drin

  As he carefully rolled the dwarf over onto his back, Kiriana waved her hand over him. As she did, a tiny shower of golden rain washed over the dwarf. Dom’s eyelids flickered.

  “He’s awake,” shouted Kiriana.

  “I’ll protect him, go!” shouted Nal’drin.

  Kiriana jumped up and dashed to the fight just in
time to watch one of the few goblins that had slipped inside the defenses before the walls rose prepare to drive a dagger into Theros’ back. She had no time to think, only to act. She threw herself into harm’s way to protect her friend. She screamed and threw her hands out as she tried to intercept the goblin’s attack. She distracted him for a second, long enough for a blinding flash of golden light to erupt from her fingertips. The blinded goblin squealed in pain as it thrashed about without sight. Kiriana spun low into a reverse leg sweep. The goblin slammed down hard. She pulled one of her daggers free and plunged it into the goblin’s gut.

  Theros felt the ground shake as the walls shuddered. Must be another tremor, he thought. He was wrong.

  Swarms of new goblins rushed into the room through the single entrance, but the pounding on the walls continued. Bricks and mortar were breaking loose. Theros realized goblins were trying to break through the wall from the other side.

  “Sharka, can you reinforce that wall?”

  She finished cutting down two goblins before looking to where he pointed. “I got it!”

  Theros watched as she thrust out her arm toward the failing wall. Earth and stone surged toward the weakened wall.

  “Nice work,” roared Theros as he brought both his hammers down. The overhead strike destroyed his attacker.

  A mighty tremor shook the underground lair. Another part of the wall failed on the other side of the room. Frenzied goblins swarmed through the new breach.

  Theros screamed, “Duroc, a little help!”

  Duroc stood there as war was waged in his sanctum. The chaos of battle surrounded him. He was dumbstruck. He wasn’t busy marveling at their gifts when Theros cried for help. He’d been anxiously wanting to explore his own gifts, but nothing had come. He closed his eyes and thrust his hands out to receive whatever gift might be granted unto him, but nothing came. He tried to call upon divine powers in the same way that he had called upon the Qarii, he even braced for the pain.