by Bill Ricardi
Take deep breath. Put amulet on.
Leeson nod. “Scroll first, then see if you can read the book.”
Unroll paper. Stare at it for long time. Little letter swirl, then stop. Know it in right order. Start reading. Little letter burn as read. Words somehow warm in belly. Words feel like home. These my words. Feel sudden brightness in brain. Amulet pulse on chest, like hungry.
Make these last notes before try study. If something go wrong, this where diary end. Notes for adventurer, not for retired orc.
Chapter 6
The mind is a funny, frightening thing. At that moment, mine was like a sandcastle.
Once the amulet was attuned to the Enhance Intelligence spell cast from the emergency scroll that my friends had made for me so many months ago, the floodgates opened. My brain and my body knew the next steps. The process was inexorable. I studied my primitive notes on casting Enhanced Intelligence properly, and then committed it to memory from my spellbook. Every casting was an ocean wave battering at the walls of a crumbling castle made of sand.
The loss of my memories wasn’t because I lacked the intelligence to form memories. It never worked that way in the past. Rather, I had locked away memories both happy and sad. The happy memories were sequestered to keep my torturers away from the trail that would lead them to Ames. Particularly the final memories of casting Silence to force the feline’s escape. I also locked them away to deny myself false hope, given how dire my imprisonment had been. The sad memories were buried so that I could live through the experience without having to confront what I had lost. That way I could possibly weather the pain that I would suffer in what I believed were my final weeks on Panos.
The first time I cast my own Enhance Intelligence, waves of understanding battered down the curtain wall. The guilt of denying the existence of my friends poured in. As did a very real sense of relief, because it meant that I wasn’t alone, mentally. I had peers. I had loved ones that I could talk to.
By the second enhancement, I couldn’t even look at my friends. Guilt had been joined by embarrassment, both now battering at the inner keep that I had built, rapidly crumbling. I was able to process the things that I had said and done in captivity: The bargaining. The fantasies. The begging, the screaming. The impossible promises I had made, falling on ears both deaf and cruel. I relived thoughts both sadistic and depraved as my captors reduced me to my most base form; more animal than man. But along with all that: Just a little bit of pride. In the end I had held onto that core, and protected Ames despite everything that might have broken me.
By the third casting I was in tears, my soul laid completely bare. The remains of that temporary mental construct had been washed away, leaving only me. My fragile ego was now exposed to the harsh light of truth. I processed the enormity of what had happened, the loss of my three companions, and the importance of the next day or two if we were to have any hope of getting them back. My jaw was slack, muscles unresponsive. Ames cleared the room.
I spent almost an hour in the arms of my lover, sobbing into that white furred shoulder.
We rested for a time before I had Leeson summoned. As I had taught my young student Augmented Intelligence, I figured that he should return the favor. We studied and memorized the more advanced spell together, his confidence and technique reminding me of my own prowess. Our casting was synchronized, and I knew it was going to be successful even before that shard of silver slipped away into nothingness. Then I cast it again. And again. I was physically and mentally exhausted. The dual process of intellect gain and drain, and of arcane memorization and exertion, had resulted in an orc with nothing left to give. But there was gratification, like that of a training warrior whose muscles scream at the end of the day. The pain was progress.
By the next morning, I was ready to attune the Amulet of Enhanced Enchanting with the more powerful Augmented Intelligence. Everything was within my grasp once more. My full array of spells, from the simple to the powerful, from the subtle to the destructive, would be available to memorize in the morning. I allowed myself the luxury of memorizing one of those subtle spells that night.
I invoked Max’s Message. Recalling that Hemitath was incommunicado, I directed my message at the creator of the spell itself, Master Max.
‘I’m back. Going into Pandemonium to rescue friends in morning. See you at start of semester, old man.’
The reply was immediate, and just about what I expected:
‘About damned time, green skin. Happy hunting.’
Our arcane and divine spell selection that morning was aided by the elven sages that quite literally wrote the book on the Plane of Pandemonium. Apparently the denizens of the plane had strong minds, so we should avoid anything involving charm, hypnotism, or domination. Also, Pandemoniumites were adept at redirecting and warping physical force, so we should tailor our spells towards the elemental. Finally, the plane itself often had uncertain terrain, so movement enhancements could be helpful. Ames packed an assortment of mobility gear as well.
The portal would be opened and held in a secure and contained location, away from the core population of Arbitros. For the past two days, preparations and ceremonies were conducted in ‘The Hollow’. The Hollow was a huge void in the center of an ancient ironwood tree. There was only one way in or out, and the wild elves guarded the entryway with martial, clerical, and arcane force. This was not the elves’ first, nor would it be their last, foray into other planes. They were the most dimensionally travelled race on the face of Panos.
Leeson and I were the last to arrive, having finalized our spell preparations. Magus Aculith, one of the youngest but most respected summoners stationed to The Hollow, was going over the plan with Ames.
The elf noted, “For the most part, creatures know better than to come through our portals unannounced and unescorted. None have ever returned to their plane without a ransom being paid. But that having been said, we can only approximate the location of your friends. We’re using the minotaur, Toby, as our focus since the results of your cleric’s Geas imply that he’s alive. Our scrying is inexact at best in Pandemonium. I would council getting away from the portal quickly, finding a defensible area, and then sending up the flare. Do not… I repeat, do not use the flare near the portal. No need to advertise its existence any more than we already are. The population density in Pandemonium is rather low, so you have a good chance of attracting your friends before any of the Pandemoniumites respond to the signal.”
Ames nodded. “And if not, we know what to do.” The feline cast a quick glance over Aculith’s shoulder, acknowledging our presence. “It looks like we’re ready. Thanks for this.”
Aculith shrugged. “The current human monarchy has been far more helpful and understanding towards our people than the last. An attempt to save the people who prevented massive destruction and instability in the southern region seems… fair to say the least. Godspeed.”
The Hollow was magically lit, although the illumination didn’t reveal much. The chamber was mostly featureless save for the raised wooden platform in the center of the chamber. The four of us lined up at the bottom of the ironwood steps that led up to the elevated area. We were situated to the southwest. The four summoners on duty, standing around the dais at the four cardinal compass points, began the final incantations to open our dimensional portal.
“The ley line that passes through here follows the coast and sweeps up in a northeasterly direction. In case you were wondering why the steps were here.”
We all turned to see Councillor Jarotath standing just behind us. His blond hair was mostly tucked under a stylized leather cap. The arcanite platemail that he wore glimmered in the room’s magical illumination. His silver longsword was not the delicate weapon of a duelist, it was crafted robustly and required muscle to wield. Luckily, the golden eyed elf had plenty of muscle.
Jarotath stood next to Ames, saying nothing more.
We glanced at each other, not sure of the protocol at times such as these. It was
Tara who said, “Councillor Jarotath, thank you so much for seeing us off.”
The elf replied, flatly, “I’m not seeing you off, I’m coming with you.”
Leeson said, mostly out of surprise, “Really?”
“Really. Nobody goes through the portal unescorted.”
Tara, perhaps not wanting to be responsible for getting an elf lord killed, started to say, “Councillor, we couldn’t ask you to risk-”
But she was cut off, “Lady Tara. Nobody goes through the portal unescorted.”
And that was that.
I leaned in to murmur to Ames, “It’s not just me right? He’s extremely sexy.”
I got an elbow in the ribs for my trouble, as the were-cat hissed back at me, “This is not the time, Sorch.”
I was grinning toothily as the portal opened.
Glowing liquid lavender swirling around a spiral core of speckled rust. That is the closest description that I have for the dimension-warping gateway that had been opened up before us. Had I not known why we were here, the last thing that would have occurred to me was that one could walk through that. It looked like a macabre art piece; one of the least inviting things that one could imagine.
As our escort, Jarotath was the first to mount the stairs and move up to the portal. “Stay close.” the elf said. He led with the tip of his longsword, and strode through the gate to Pandemonium without another word. Taking his advice, the rest of us followed quickly.
Spindly. That is the adjective that I would use to describe the landscape that appeared before us. The gray earth was littered with thin, spiky protrusions that stretched into the infinity of the rusted lavender sky. If there was a sun, it was not immediately identifiable. Instead a harsh glow seemed to emanate from every point on the horizon, the source of the illumination always just out of reach. To our left, the ground fell away in a less-than-gentle slope. To our right, a series of eerily perfect half-spheres of earth blocked our vision, acting as a warped parody of hills that one might see on Panos. Ahead and behind, a topographical void.
As we considered our options, a hot wind blew relentlessly into our faces. It cut around the spindly protrusions in the earth, making a high pitched buzzing sound that seemed to run up my spine and set my teeth on edge. They needed to rename this place the Plane of Irritation.
Ames pointed with their short sword. “If we’re looking for isolation and they were looking for shelter…”
We all looked to the ‘hills’.
I said, “It’s the kind of area Toby would love.”
Tara agreed, “It’s the most likely spot, and it means our signal won’t be obscured by the landscape.”
Jarotath led the way, followed by Ames. Leeson and I were next, and Tara guarded the rear to prevent any ambush of the mages in this strange, unpredictable place.
I happened to glance back at Tara. She was grinning ear to ear. Remembering the rule about minotaurs and their binary emotion, I asked, “Everything okay, Tara?”
She nodded. With those square, pearly white teeth on display, the priestess said, “Yes. I’m just excited, don’t mind me. Believe it or not, I feel in my element here. And we’re close. I can feel it.”
I made a mental connection. Minotaurs wouldn’t be disoriented by a situation like this. They thrive on their sense of direction and depth, and their instinctive knowledge of their exact place in the world. Any world. Minotaurs loved mazes and puzzles. If anything, Pandemonium would be exhilarating to Tara.
We hurried towards the ‘hills’, but had to pass through a dense cluster of infinitely tall spires. As we weaved through the eerie spindles, a discordant sound came from above. It was like a shard of broken glass dragged down the strings of a sitar.
A horrific, seven legged creature dropped from the sky in front of us. The bottom half was that of a deformed, blocky spider. The top half was that of a hellish, ebony humanoid. Its features were almost puppet-like, though the creature’s movement was fluid, confident. A creepy smile seemed to be frozen on its face.
Councillor Jarotath shouted, “Illogic demon! Find cover.” We scattered, but the only cover available was the smattering of absurdly thin spindles. It was partial cover at best, and their structural integrity was anything but assured.
The warped creature said, “There is no version of the universe in which you emerge victorious.”
A shaky voice replied, “Argument from incredulity.”
All eyes turned to Leeson now. He was peeking out from behind his spindle. Apparently the young human couldn’t let the demon’s fallacy go unchallenged.
Turning to regard the small mage, the illogic demon stalked forward. “All mortals who have stood before me have perished. Now you stand before me. Thus, you will perish.”
Leeson looked annoyed at that. He stepped out from behind cover and said, in an accusatory tone, “Appeal to probability.”
The demon stopped in its tracks, as in if smote by a giant club. “Stop! Every model and portent has deemed you to be powerless against me.”
Leeson took a step forward as he declared, “False attribution.”
The illogic demon’s smile disappeared entirely. The young mage’s statement triggered a weakness in its legs, causing the deformed arachnid to stumble. “Since becoming the guardian of this region, not a single soul has returned to their home. You will not return either.”
Now Leeson was the one doing the stalking. “Post hoc ergo propter hoc!”
A piercing shriek shook the earth as the creature seemed to shrivel in upon itself. “No, you cannot beat me. You are just a puny, inexperienced, fragile virgin child!”
Leeson shouted, “AD HOMINEM!”
And with his final feeble fallacy unravelled, the illogic demon disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
We all stared at the panting, flushed young human for a few moments. When he had calmed down and noticed that he was the center of attention, Leeson explained, “I was on the Youth Academy debate team.”
I walked over and gripped his shoulder. “Of course you were. Let’s get going.”
We made it to the hemispherical hills. Without any kind of grit or grip, they were difficult to scale. Ames pointed out that the junction of two of them provided a reasonable way to scramble up. We followed the seam upward and inward, until we managed to make our way to the rounded top of the smaller peak.
Ames looked around, and then declared, “I can get to the top of the tall one from here.” The feline started to break out the climbing gear. “Between your vantage and mine, I think we’ll cover most avenues of approach.”
It took a few minutes for the feline to scale the adjoining hemisphere. A combination of crampons, claws, spikes, hooks, a hammer, and a length of rope were used in the ascent. We were ready to defend the were-cat if they should need to retreat, but the noise didn’t seem to attract any attention. Perhaps the constant high pitched buzzing caused by the relentlessly annoying wind worked out in our favor.
Upon seeing a two-pawed wave from my kitten, Jarotath held the signal wand high above his head and uttered the magic triggering word: “Shine.”
A trio of glowing red streamers fired out of the tip of the wand. They sailed over a hundred paces into the air. The streamers seemed to fall incredibly slowly. The elf said, “They should last for around half an hour. If your friends are still alive and in any shape to respond, that will be plenty of time.” The other option remained unspoken: If they couldn’t respond, we were very likely to be confronted by things far less friendly. We could be in serious trouble within half an hour, and would likely need to beat a hasty retreat to the portal.
We all peered into the distance, eyes straining against that awful haze that seemed to exist on a permanent basis all along the horizon. Ames called out and pointed, but was barely audible over the wind. We all tried to follow that invisible line that the feline indicated, but another ‘peak’ was in the way from our somewhat shorter and more central location. The were-cat finished a rapid descent and tugged t
heir rope free, leaving the spikes and hooks in place. “I saw a flash down there, near the right side of the next big hill. I swear it was lightning.”
We headed down to the seam of the adjoining hemispheres and started to descend as quickly as we could without anyone breaking their neck. “Lightning is Will’s preferred big spell.” I said, before briefly losing my footing and sliding a little bit. When I recovered I finished the thought. “Which means if they saw us, they might not be the only ones heading in this direction.”
Jarotath shrugged, nimbly handling the descent with the kind of ease expected of an elf. His magical metal armor seemed to weigh him down no more than light ringmail might have. “If it was going to be easy, you wouldn’t need me along.”
‘Cute and cocky.’ I thought to myself. The combination wasn’t unappealing.
We reached the uniformly flat surface that passed for ‘ground level’ in this area of Pandemonium. We helped both Tara and Leeson down the last particularly steep drop as they transitioned from the hemisphere to much more sure footing. Then the five of us broke into a fast jog, eager to round this hill and see if the lightning flash really was a sign that our friends were alive.
A large pack of helldogs was not the discovery that any of us had hoped for.
The beasts, numbering over twenty, were as accursed and misshapen as everything else in this place. They shambled along nightmarishly, on either three or five legs. Instead of fur, they sported a mix of petrified soot fibers and thin strands of rusted metal. Their eyes were glowing lavender, mostly focused on something around the other side of the hill. That is until one of them noticed the were-cat and elf that had skidded to a stop at their flank. Then a howl went up, sounding like a dog gargling rusty nails. Most of the others joined in, and started to move in on our front line.
As Ames and Councillor Jarotath backpedaled to use the curve of the hill as flank protection, the three of us started casting spells. Leeson, realizing that the majority of his spells weren’t great in these tight quarters, summoned an Invisible Shield. The minotaur cleric finished just before I did. An animated warhammer made of softly glowing blue ice came into being beside her. It seemed to hover by her right flank, ready to strike at anything approaching the minotaur’s relatively unprotected side.