"That was good. We did it quickly and quietly," Draegos complimented his companions.
"They weren't expecting us, but they will now," Glorýa added. She cleaned her blade and sheathed it.
"Aye. We'll not get the jump like that with the next bunch," Greffel claimed as he reloaded his crossbow and attached it to his right hip.
"Maybe, but at least we know what we are dealing with: goblin vermin," Draegos replied as he gently rolled the dead holy man over. He knew the dwarf; the pain of the untimely demise etched on his face, and he whispered the last rites for his comrade as he chipped and dug a grave in the ice.
"Who was he?" Greffel asked as he looked around for any items of worth.
"He was Fer'Gol the Wise. He ran the temple at the Citadel of Ice. The Cabal of Ice." He had to stop as he felt the emotion well up inside. He placed a stone atop the grave, one that would be identifiable, and gave one last thought to the fallen mystic. He stood up, using his ax to help him, and he turned to his companions. His face was wet from the tears, but his eyes burned with anger.
"We need to get moving, Draegos," Greffel urged.
"Aye, then let's go end this," Draegos replied as he gripped his ax in his left hand.
The three travelers continued down the sloping corridor of ice and rock, following the twists and turns until they entered an area that was central to three other tunnels. Glorýa took note of their position, marked it on a wall with a piece of charcoal, and pointed towards the right corridor as the next one to venture down.
"That'll be the one we go down next," she informed the others.
Greffel searched the entrance to the other tunnels to make sure no vermin lie hidden, and Draegos checked the central open area for any other clues. All over the ground tracks lead in various directions, so he called Greffel over t sort out which one to follow.
"Hey, what kind of creatures make these?"
Greffel jogged over and knelt by the tracks, carefully leaning close to see what and to whom they belonged. He noticed several goblin tracks, and then saw a bunch of dwarf tracks. "They have prisoners. Two big goblins, most likely Marauders, and about four dwarfs all chained in a row." He showed the marks from the chains dragging, along with the dwarf steps.
It's the price, dwarf.
Draegos pushed the spirit voice outside his mind and focused on the task at hand. He looked at Greffel and asked, "How long ago? Any injured?"
"The dwarf in the back seems damaged. See how the left leg looks to be dragging a bit?" Greffel showed him the tracks. He could tell it upset Draegos.
The tracks went down the same tunnel Glorýa had pointed.
"Then let's not keep them waiting," Draegos said. "Be ready."
The companions prepared for battle and each one pulled out their weapon of choice. Draegos had his ax, Greffel held his crossbow ready, and Glorýa brought out her blade. Slowly they proceeded forward, their eyes searching every crack, crevice, and turn with scrutiny. Finally, they came upon a large number of tracks and a recently abandoned camp.
Draegos stood a moment in the center of the recent camp. His body ached from all the fighting, and the wounds he’d had to heal, and he needed to gather his thoughts.
Glorýa and Greffel both searched the refuse pile, finding only garbage. Greffel noticed the dwarf had sat down by the fire pit and closed his eyes. He was chanting something under his breath. Greffel couldn't hear the words, and he crouched down to listen. Glorýa took the free time to check her gear and prepare for any battle that might arise, and then she joined her brother near the dwarf.
Draegos was deep in the ethereal world, searching ahead in the tunnels and trying to figure out what was awaiting them at the Citadel. He focused on the path before them and came across a group of goblins and dwarfs. He could see their gear, axes, and armor, and he could sense the fear and pain of the dwarfs. It was what he saw of the dwarfs that upset him the most. The goblins had killed the injured dwarf, and his body lay near a fire, where they would cut off a piece of flesh and cook it.
Draegos's mind filled with rage and anger. He turned his ethereal body towards the path that led to the Citadel of Ice, but something wanted him to see a different image. He felt his body whirl and turn, the scene becoming a kaleidoscope of colors, and when his vision refocused, he saw a dark landscape with a city in the distance. A pillar of white light rose from the center of the township and extended high into the sky, as far as the dwarf could see. He was confused, and he tried to understand what had been shown but then he felt a rush of air in his chest, a turn of the world, and he was back in the tunnels. Greffel sat with a bewildered look, and Glorýa had sat down to write what the dwarf had spoken.
Draegos’ eyes shot open, and he took the scene in as he gathered his thoughts. His two companions sat in total silence as they had witnessed him performing his magic. Glorýa was the first to speak.
"Where were you?"
"I was here and then I wasn't," Draegos said. He looked at her beautiful eyes, and he wondered if they all would make it out of this alive.
"Where did you go?" she asked again. She noticed Draegos’ eye was bloodshot, his face looked haggard, and his body seemed tired. The cloth over his right eye was now ratty and dirty; she would make him something special as they traveled, she quietly thought.
"I was in a city. There was a pillar of light that arose from its center and went high into the night sky. There stood a clock tower and some strange mechanical wagon. There was a connection to everything that exists, there to here."
You were at Junction, the spirit told him.
I do not have time for this, he replied.
The price, dwarf. One way or another, it must be paid.
Don't make me angry, spirit. We both know what could happen.
Maybe that is the destiny you are to fulfill.
"A clock tower?" Greffel asked. His face was a grimace of confusion, and the gnome leaned in on his elbows.
Glorýa recognized the description but kept her knowledge to herself. She knew that what he spoke of was what the Ar'Ko'Nýans considered their resting place, their “Otherworld.” She watched the dwarf's face and knew he was hiding something from them.
"We all have a destiny, dwarf. We cannot escape that. You, as a Mystic, should know this better than most." She stated.
"Destiny is not fixed. It is fluid and dynamic, like the oceans, and they can change or be altered," Draegos replied. He was challenging her now, and he knew it.
"It is fixed, dwarf. To change it could bring about disastrous consequences for us all."
"Such as?" he asked immediately.
"I . . . I don't know." She stammered out.
"Name one instance that was a direct result of someone not following their destiny and the consequence of that action."
"The Great Destruction." She quickly remarked.
Draegos roared with laughter. She joined in, and Greffel sat there wondering what in the Seven Hells had just happened.
"That, dear Magi, is true," he replied and then continued. "We have some guests down that center passageway about 300 meters or so. They are resting and eating a dwarf so we may be able to get the jump on them. There are only three dwarfs now." He fought back the rage as he made the last statement.
"We go in under cloak and get the drop on them," Greffel said.
"I can make you both invisible until you attack. Then I can compliment your attacks with some magic. They'd never expect that." Glorýa said. They nodded in agreement and started down the center passageway. Slowly they crept upon the unsuspecting goblins. Glorýa cast her spell, and the two men ventured into the camp.
As they prepared their attack, they became visible, earlier than they’d anticipated, and the goblins were able to make a defense. As Draegos slammed his ax deep into the chest of the goblin nearest him, Greffel was able to tackle another goblin and slit its throat. As they incapacitated their immediate threats, more goblins came running into the fray. Glorýa let loose a series of flamin
g bolts, striking several of them but not killing any.
Draegos let his rage out. His face contorted and his body grew, his ax fueling the change, and he stepped up to the next goblin and struck out against it. It blocked his ax and countered with a body slam. The dwarf had the wind knocked out of him, but something stepped inside his body and took over. His eyes glazed over and his thoughts became silent.
Greffel let out a war cry and drew another dagger. He now held two blades, and he jumped on the chest of a charging goblin. He was stabbing the goblin as it fell back from his assault and before they hit the ground, it was dead. Greffel rose drenched in its blood and faced off with a larger goblin. Glorýa cast another volley of flame knives as she moved to free the prisoners.
As Draegos rose from the ground, the offending goblin seemed to notice something different about him. It paused as it tried to figure it out and before he realized what was happening, the dwarf reached up and grabbed the goblin's head and jerked it hard to the right. The bones cracked, the tendons snapped, and the dwarf knew he had killed it, but he wasn't finished. He turned, raised his ax, and went charging down the corridor the goblins came down.
The two gnomes looked at each other in confusion as they continued to hear the dwarf roaring down the corridor and fighting. They smiled and picked up their weapons while Greffel remarked, "It is indeed a great day to die in glorious battle!"
He took off after Draegos as Glorýa made sure the dwarfs were taken care of before sending them down the opposite tunnel towards Nýa'Bin. She then ran to catch up with the two brave but foolhardy souls.
She followed the bodies of carnage and found her brother and Draegos attacking a cave bear the goblins had unleashed. Greffel was on the back of the beast stabbing away while Draegos threw his ax at it from a distance. The beast rose up and shook his body, throwing Greffel from his back, but exposing itself to a deadly hit by the ax. It fell with a thud, and Draegos recovered his ax and continued his rage down the pathway.
Greffel made sure he was okay before he grabbed his daggers and chased off after the dwarf, yelling as he followed, "Now come on! You must be crazy as hell to continue forward like this! At least let me take something down, you damn hungry dwarf!"
"If you want to kill something, then you need to keep up!" Draegos yelled.
"Says the man who is twice my height!"
"Grow longer legs then."
As the two companions turned the corner, they encountered a waiting party of ten goblins. They stopped and looked at the surprised goblins, noting the caster in the rear, and then the two hurled themselves at the group. The audacity of the attacking adventurers scared the goblins, as they stepped back before realizing they had the numbers. It was too late; the two had already begun their ferocious attacks.
Glorýa rounded the corner and came upon her companions hacking away at their adversaries. They had already killed three of the ten goblins and were each taking on three more while a goblin caster prepared spells beyond them. She stopped, dropped her sword, and threw a bolt of fire at the spell thrower. Having not noticed the new combatant, the goblin Magi did not counter her spell and was hit squarely with the flaming bolt, bursting into flames.
While it tried to put out the fire, Glorýa cast another spell conjuring up a flaming bear to attack the burning Magi, distracting it from helping his fellow goblins. Draegos took a moment and seized upon it. Slamming his ax in the chest of the goblin in front of him, he then used it as leverage to flip himself up and over the goblin, yanking the weapon out as he finished. He then turned, slammed the ax into the forehead of another goblin, kicked him off it, and then threw the ax at the third goblin. On its way to the goblin, the ax transformed into a giant bolt of dark energy and disintegrated its target.
Draegos held out his left hand, and the ax reappeared in it, allowing him to strike the first goblin in the back. At this point Greffel was busy running up the back of the second goblin he fought, flipping over while slamming his two daggers into its throat, and then kicking the third goblin in the head, snapping its neck. He landed on his feet, spun to face his first goblin, and punched it hard in the jaw.
The large goblin roared his anger at Greffel, reached out and grabbed the gnome, and threw him into the wall. The gnome hit the icy stones and fell hard. Glorýa turned as Greffel hit the wall, and raised both hands up to deliver a powerful spell. Her voice roared with power as she spoke the words of power, "Tél'Lya'Neydmar!”[16] The large goblin froze, rose up into the air, and then quartered as she brought her arms down and out. The goblin caster took note, and as he was burning and running from the flaming bear, ran down the corridor towards the Citadel, screaming in agony.
Greffel got to his feet and drew his crossbow as he followed the caster. He loaded a bolt and drew back the cable as he continued into the hallway and fired at the fleeing magi. The bolt flew swiftly through the air, transforming into an icy spike, and striking his foe in the back. The goblin fell, and the flaming bear tore it to pieces.
Draegos looked at Glorýa and said, "You sure know how to make an entrance, even if it was a little late." Then he winked.
"Maybe I was just biding my time," she replied. The three gathered near the center and took note of their surroundings while waiting to see if any reinforcements were en route. After several moments, they decided none was sent, and so they took the time to collect their thoughts.
"Well, at least we know they have casters," Greffel remarked.
"Thanks to Glorýa, they were not able to cast many spells. We could have had a harder time," Draegos responded. They hugged and held it for a moment as they all breathed a deep sigh of relief.
"What was that all about, Draegos?" Glorýa asked.
"I have these fits. No, not fits, but moments of displacement. I am not in control. It's like something pushes me aside and takes over and I am not in control of my actions, or able to stop them," Draegos answered. He looked ashamed and embarrassed. All three stood there in silence as the blood and gore dripped off their bodies.
"Wait, you mean, like possessed?" Greffel asked suddenly.
"Well . . . yeah, that is what I mean."
"How do I get that?" Greffel said in excitement.
"You have to be a Mystic, Greffel. That is how they get their magic, from spirits around them." Turning to face Draegos, she continued, "And you must have some powerful spirits watching over you. After all, they showed you the place where we all go when we die, Junction." She turned her head to the right slightly and tilted it, while looking at Draegos, in deep thought.
Then she drew her blade and began heading down the passageway towards the Citadel. "We're almost there." The two men just stood there as they watched her go.
"Well, that is pretty nifty," Greffel said as he drew another bolt and loaded his crossbow while following his sister. Draegos stood there a moment longer looking onwards.
She dies first.
Not if I can help it.
But you can't, it's the price you will pay for infamy.
I don't want notoriety.
It's too late. The ax chose you, and now your destiny is set.
What is my destiny?
To stop the prophecy from happening.
What prophecy?
The Crimson Moon Prophecy. Then he felt the spirit leave.
He took off running towards his companions, ax in his left hand and the conversation heavy on his mind. He did not do well with ultimatums, nor with absolutes, so he decided to try and figure out a way to keep from endangering his friends for the sake of a so-called prophecy. Too many had already died.
As he approached his companions, who had stopped at the mouth of the tunnels, the scene began to unfold before him. The once-proud Citadel of Ice was now in ruins, smoldering from within, and the devastation was utterly complete. Draegos dropped to his knees in anguish as he watched the billowing, black smoke rise from Dor'Éssyn and the darkness crept into his mind. He had failed.
He let out a howl of rage and bu
ried his face in his hands, crying for several moments as his friends each held him close. Slowly the sobs subsided, and he focused his eye on taking in the scene. Both his companions stepped back as they noted his burning red eye and the look of utter vengeance etched on his face. Draegos stood up fully, his left hand tightened around his ax, and his jaw clenched tightly.
No one survived, he heard a new voice in his mind say.
Who are you? He asked back.
Someone who wants you to succeed at your destiny.
Where did the other spirit go?
They are still here.
What do you mean? I thought Mystics only needed one spirit to cast magic.
You are no ordinary Mystic.
So the other spirit keeps reminding me. So what are you here to teach me?
I am here to help you get revenge.
That's a dark path I am not sure I want to go on.
Darkness is necessary to see the light.
That is a magical fallacy, spirit. One does not need to traverse the darkness to find the light.
Perhaps, but you have no common destiny. Your future dictates unwavering focus.
I have that. I do not need darkness to gain that.
You are arrogant. You think you can get power without a price.
I do not seek power, only enlightenment.
I see your pain, dwarf. I feel your rage. I am that instrument by which you can claim the Rite of Vengeance.
If I give in, I will be damned. Forever I will roam the Twilight Realm.
A fair price to pay for the vengeance of your people.
Is it?
One way or another, you will pay the price. Your choice.
Will the power corrupt me?
The Obsidian Axe: Prelude to the Prophecy Page 6