by Dean Henegar
“Yes, I believe you are correct. What is taking those fool dwarves so long?” Burnside fumed. The dwarven pathfinders had found the soldiers after they had left Hayden’s Knoll, agreeing to help them scout for danger. The pact between the Imperium and the Stonehold clan would be honored. With the soldiers just a mile from the Holdfast, Rollox and the other pathfinder he was leading had insisted on checking the town for danger before the column walked right in. Only a slight rustle of the tall grass around them announced the return of the dwarf. The ineffective lookouts posted by the soldiers had failed to notice the stealthy pathfinder.
“Burnside, something’s up in that town I tells ye’. It appears abandoned and all four of the gates are open,” Rollox advised. Burnside cringed at the dwarf using his name instead of his title, but they weren’t assigned to his command officially, so he had to endure the slight on his honor.
“Well, you fool, why didn’t you go in and check? You were supposed to be looking for dangers, weren’t you?” Burnside blustered.
“I can tell ye’ there were signs of passage from large groups, both humans and . . . something else. All the trails led into the town and only a couple led out. A bad sign and a good chance that whoever or whatever caused the trouble is still hiding somewhere in the town. There’s no way me with only one ‘o my own’ll be walking into that kind of obvious trap. I’ll gladly ’ead back and check it out, but we’ll need support from your soldiers. We don’t want to be trapped in there by ourselves,” Rollox told the lieutenant.
“Useless, the lot of you. You’re dismissed, dwarf. Toddle back to your caves if you’re too afraid to do a soldiers work,” Burnside said, insulting the dwarf. Rollox who, to his credit, kept his cool, waved his comrade to follow as he left the camp.
“Sergeant, let’s get this over with and head into Holdfast. I’m tired of the stories of drunken farmers and cowardly dwarves,” Burnside said with a sigh.
“Sir, might I recommend we send one squad in to check it out before we all head in?” the sergeant suggested. Burnside waved away the sergeant’s concerns, now impatient to be done and gone.
“That will not be necessary, sergeant. We have an entire platoon of Imperium soldiers with us. Should there be any problems I’m sure you and the men can sort it out,” Burnside said as he climbed up into his coach. The soldiers may have all traveled on foot, but Burnside had invested in the purchase of a luxury coach and a pair of draft horses to pull it. Inside the coach were padded seats and a compact writing desk for Quidley to do his work. Burnside’s favorite part of the setup was the fine selection of finger foods and beverages that he had stocked the coach with before leaving Hayden’s Knoll.
The sergeant formed up the men and led them back onto the road toward Holdfast, never realizing that they were passing Dobbins’ farm. The home was abandoned, the front door swinging on its simple leather hinge, but the surrounding woods were far from empty. Nearby, eyes watched, following the progress of the soldiers as they made their way to the town.
The platoon of soldiers approached Holdfast. As the dwarves had said, the gates were open, and the place appeared deserted. The sergeant ordered the men forward, knowing it was dangerous but not wanting to disobey orders. With a creaking sound, the gates were pushed all the way open and the platoon entered, the lieutenant’s coach clopping just behind.
“I’ll stop there, sergeant, and make the inn my headquarters for this operation,” Burnside ordered as they passed the large building nestled near the center of town.
“Yes sir, let me send a few men in to clear it before you enter. I’ll then begin to clear the rest of the town and without any problems we should be done by nightfall,” the sergeant said as he looked at the late afternoon sky. A section of soldiers tromped into the inn to clear it. They emerged a few minutes later.
“Sir, the place is a mess as if everyone left in a hurry and seems abandoned,” the soldier reported.
“Very well, your section will carry my baggage and clean the place up,” Burnside ordered, stepping down from the wagon. Entering the main room of the inn, Burnside waited as the section of soldiers hurried about, clearing out all the half-eaten meals and spilled drinks. Opening one of the windows, the lieutenant was able to catch some fresh air and watch the sergeant divide up the soldiers into sections of five to clear the town. Each section was methodically clearing the houses and business around the inn, slowly moving out in a radius from where Burnside had placed his “headquarters.” One of the soldiers opened another window to watch the clearing operation.
“I don’t know if we’ll finish the whole town today, sir, but the light should hold for another hour or two giving the men a good start on it,” the soldier stated as Burnside shooed him back to his cleaning duties. Knowing they would be stuck here for the night, the lieutenant decided to head upstairs and check on the accommodations. He doubted the were up to snuff and he sighed at the thought of spending the night once again in his carriage.
Moving upstairs, Burnside found there were a total of eight rooms available. The doors had all been left open by the soldiers when they had cleared the place earlier and Burnside could see the largest room was the best appointed. The room was empty, and the bed had fresh linens ready for the next guest. Running his hand over the bedding, Burnside shook his head in dismissal at their quality.
“Might be better off in my carriage after all. Who knows what pests might be infesting this dump,” Burnside whispered to himself.
***
In the kitchen of the inn, a hastily thrown rug was slowly pushed aside as the trapdoor to the cold larder was opened. During their rush to clear the building the soldiers had not considered that the cellar they cleared held only bottles and barrels of alcohol. None considered for a moment that there might have been a separate place for the inn to store its foodstuffs.
Inside the cellar, one of the Gul Dorg daughters commanded her drones. Siren had given the mental signal and it was time to strike. The cellar door creaked open as the rug covering it was thrown aside. Dozens of the Gul Dorg emerged from the larder as hundreds of others hidden in the town also went into action.
One of the soldiers had been in the wine cellar sampling the inn’s wares while the officer and sergeant weren’t looking. He heard the creak of the trapdoor opening when the Gul Dorg emerged. The soldier dropped the bottle he was tasting from and hurried back into the kitchen, surprised to see what looked like several bedraggled villagers emerging from a hidden door.
“Hey, are you all right? What happened here?” the soldier asked. The first Gul Dorg to emerge were the more recently infested, and the drones that followed were from the group that led the attack on the town. These drones had very little resemblance to the humans and gnolls they once were, their features turned into a more insect-like appearance with strange growths waving about their bodies. Extra limbs, claws, and natural weapons had grown from their bodies in addition the original pair of still human-like arms and hands.
Upon seeing the abominations emerge from the cellar the soldier stood in shock. Looking at the first drones that had emerged, he could now see there was something not quite right about them either. When the drones began to approach him, the soldier screamed in fear and ran back down into the wine cellar, holding the door shut behind him as it had no lock.
The remaining drones flooded into the main floor of the inn, startling and quickly overpowering the three soldiers still busy cleaning up the place. The now restrained soldiers were brought back down into the cellar where the daughter waited, ready to add them to the hive. The door to the wine cellar fell open with a crash as the lone soldier cowering there was unable to hold back the flood of abominations; he too was dragged down to the cellar and the waiting daughter.
***
“What the devil are those fools doing down there? I’ll have them flogged if they’ve gotten into the liquor!” Burnside yelled to the soldier that had come up to see if the lieutenant needed anything.
“I’ll check
on it right away, sir,” the soldier said as he turned to head down the stairs. As he turned, a claw like appendage grasped him, pinning his arms to his side and dragging him down the stairs to the cellar as more of the hideous creatures made their way up the stairs. Burnside whimpered in fear and ran to one of the bedrooms locking the door behind him before opening the window and looking out on the street for his men. The clash of weapons rang in the distance and the shouted orders of his sergeant reached all the way to the inn. None of the other sections were in sight and Burnside shouted himself hoarse screaming for help.
He watched helplessly as Quidley was dragged from the carriage by the drones and hauled into the inn. The attaché flailed blindly with a small knife that was easily knocked from his hand by the drones. Realizing no help would be coming, Burnside’s fear overcame him. The man crumpled to a heap on the floor, whimpering and offering no resistance as the drones broke down the door and pulled him toward his fate.
The other sections of soldiers were spread out over the town searching for survivors or any hint as to what happened to Holdfast. They found their answer as to the fate of the town as Gul Dorg drones dropped from roofs, emerged from hidden cellars, unfolded their warped bodies from various hiding spots, and converged on the unsuspecting soldiers. Most of the soldiers were easily overpowered and only a few Gul Dorg drones were killed in the skirmishes. The only exception to this was the sergeant who was able to rally his section and hold the creatures off for a time while fortified in one of the buildings. The creatures eventually had to kill the sergeant and two of the other soldiers before capturing the rest.
Burnside lay shivering on the cold floor of the cellar, his body occasionally spasming as the thing inside his head took hold. Looking about, he could see the other soldiers behaving the same way. He felt a presence in his mind as control of his body slipped away. The terrified lieutenant tried bargaining and threatening with the presence in his head, but it was of no use. The Gul Dorg parasite fed well, eating away the parts of Burnside’s mind that contained his being. Burnside whimpered one final time as he ceased to exist and the Gul Dorg that now reigned in his body stood on shaky legs, awaiting orders from its master.
***
Siren was pleased with her hive. They had done well and had only taken a few casualties. Her numbers had increased once again, this time with trained soldiers. The drones lost most of their abilities when transformed but some residual skill would remain for these soldiers and she could use them as a group. Her numbers had swelled into the thousands as her hive gathered all the townsfolk, the slavers and their captives, as well as the farmers in the surrounding area into the family. Scouts were ordered out to look for any remaining farms they might have missed as well as any other humanoids that may have straggled into her growing domain. She also needed her drones to hunt; they would require a lot of food as the hive’s numbers continued to grow.
Soon she would march on the town of Hayden’s Knoll that she had found out about from the minds of the soldiers. With these soldiers gone, the town guard would be powerless to stop her. The empire of the Gul Dorg would rise again, and she would command it! Siren was lost in her thoughts of conquest, forcing back that part of her that warned these thoughts were the work of the consumed Cacklemaster egging on her megalomania.
***
Rollox watched from the tree line as the Gul Dorg drones started to leave the village and scout the surrounding area. They had taken one of the creatures down when it had blundered into the sights of their crossbows. The creature was now trussed up in a blanket, ready to be carried back for the runesmiths to identify. As a pathfinder, Rollox was well trained to identify threats to the clan. The stories of the Gul Dorg empire were known to the Stonehold clan and to the many other dwarven strongholds. The Gul Dorg once again walked in the light of day and the clan had to be warned.
“Acch, this stinking beastie is too heavy to drag all the way back to the mine. Those things will be on us if we delay too much, Rollox,” the other pathfinder stated as the two, even with their renown dwarven stamina, struggled under the burden of the corpse.
“Agreed. The runesmiths will just have to make do with its head,” Rollox replied before hacking the things head from its body. With the reduced burden, the two made quick time back to the Stonehold Mine.
Chapter 29
Armed soldiers poured from the various entrances of the arena as a loud voice was heard shouting for us to drop our weapons and form up in the center of the arena. I had the men comply with the order and we hobbled our way to the center; blue lights encompassed any of us who were injured, slowly healing our wounds. I looked at the high-level soldiers forming a cordon around us. They wore purple instead of the Imperium red, their information revealed to me by the AI.
Praetorian Guard, Level 100 Elite (100). The Praetorian Guard are the elite bodyguard unit assigned to the Emperor himself. No foe has ever stood against them and lived.
“All kneel for his Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Trodaxius,” an announcer boomed through a magically enhanced voice. Horns blew as a procession including an imposing man that I assumed to be the emperor entered the arena. The crowd cheered as the emperor waved to his subjects.
Emperor Trodaxius, Level ??? Boss.
The entourage of the emperor stopped five feet from my kneeling formation. The Praetorians closed in on us, weapons and armor glowing with magical enhancements. The emperor held up his hand and the crowd silenced.
“Today we honor the brave victors of the Grand Melee! Their demonstration of not only martial prowess but also their cunning is a testament to their skill. Accept the rudis as well as your freedom,” Trodaxius said as one of his assistants passed out the small wooden sword to each of my men.
“Rise, Raytak, commander of this Legio Ignominia—interesting name I must say—and accept your reward. You have your freedom and may ask a boon,” Trodaxius said, handing me the rudis sword with his own hands.
I rose to my feet looking at the simple wooden sword in my hand. It indicated freedom . . . but not justice. I wanted to have my position back and those who caused my downfall punished. I wanted my retribution!
The crowd gasped as I threw the wooden sword back at the emperor’s feet. The Praetorians rushed in, ready to deal with my insult to the Emperor. Trodaxius was curious, as I hoped he would be, holding up his hand to stop the guard and motioning for me to speak. I knelt once more in front of my Emperor before responding.
“Your Imperial Majesty, I mean no disrespect. The rudis represents freedom, which is something I don’t cast aside lightly. I came here, fighting through all who stood in my way, not for freedom . . . but to gain my honor back. I was wrongfully accused of treason due to the machinations of another nation intent on invading the zone I protect. I ask only one thing: please review the evidence and if it bears true have my rank and position restored,” I said, holding my breath to see the Emperor’s response.
Trodaxius looked down on me with a curious smirk, motioning for one of his assistants to gather the document I had pulled from my inventory. The Emperor examined the documents, the notes from Darkfallow outlining his activities and the sworn statements from friends and others; Delling had worked hard to gather evidence in addition to what the notes from Darkfallow revealed.
“This is an interesting turn of events. I don’t recall anything quite like this ever happening in the arena before. Most have always been happy with their freedom or the purse that the victor receives. We shall see if your documents show truth or if this is some further treasonous act. This is not some minor holding on the outskirts of the Imperium, this is the capitol. Here I hold power most could not imagine. Summon my diviners. We shall see if these hold true,” Trodaxius shouted, waving my evidence in the air. Within moments, two teleportation portals sprung into being, a man and a woman stepping from them.
“Seek the truth of this matter,” Trodaxius ordered to the diviners. Both laid a hand on the documents and motioned for me to come closer.
Once near, they both placed their other hand on my shoulder. Their heads tilted back, and their eyes rolled back into their heads as magical power flowed from them into the documents and into me.
My vision swirled and I saw myself fighting wretched goblins that attacked the caravan, defeating the bloody blade ambush, and fighting against the ghoul lord. Other visions appeared, showing Darkfallow bribing Field Inspector Leighton, the assassin killing me and planting the evidence that had led me down this path. My vision zoomed back to the arena and I was hurtled to the ground as the magical force left me all at once.
“These are truth, and this one tells the truth as well, mighty Trodaxius,” the two diviners said, both eerily speaking the same words at the same time in their monotone voices.
“Very well. You have spoken the truth and what you wish you shall have, Captain Raytak. Hear all present that Captain Raytak is once again commander of the legion of Hayden’s Knoll. He is to be honored as a loyal servant of his emperor,” Trodaxius shouted. The crowd cheered, and I heard my name chanted by hundreds of thousands in the stands, something I never thought I would hear. Looking back, I could see Wrend grinning at me, nodding his head in acknowledgement of our victory. I had to try one more thing.
“Your Imperial majesty, may I ask one of you one other boon?” I queried. The emperor looked at me for a moment before answering.
“You may ask but there are no guarantees I will grant more than I have already granted for you this day, commander. Beware, lest you press your luck too far and incur my wrath instead of my benevolence,” Trodaxius responded.
“While I was innocent, these men behind me are guilty of the crimes that sent them here. Before you are murderers, deserters, criminals of every stripe, as well as true traitors to the Imperium. Today though, and through this entire journey, they have become something more. Many became something they once were, many became something they had never been. Today I stood beside and fought with true soldiers of the Imperium,” I said looking down at the men who were all staring at me now, not sure what I was trying to do.