by Jake Adler
Within it sat the black, elongated mass of a demon. It resembled a snake, with large, black scales that covered a heavily scaled body that stood over fifty feet in length. It possessed no identifiable eyes, just an enormous mouth, filled with row upon row of long white fangs that were as long as a man’s arm. It sat silent, as if waiting for something. Almost immediately, they saw the milling forms of an entire Orc battalion.
They had no choice now but to move forward. With their Bedazzler lockets searing the skin around their necks, they joined the enemy hoard. The demon began to sway its head from side to side, as if catching a new scent. Suddenly it stopped moving and emanated a loud hiss. The Orcs looked around in confusion.
Baxan swallowed hard and pressed forward, not daring to look behind him, fearing what he might find. His expert eyes swept the cavern and he quickly identified a man-sized exit to their far right. He surmised that they must be relatively close to the surface now as this was clearly a scouting tunnel for forays into the city.
Stacked within the centre of the cavern sat a mountain of explosives. His throat tightened as he realised that it would punch a hole large enough for the enemy to enter Takrak.
Baxan felt Commander Haugen squeeze his shoulder, “I will do it.”
He realised that the man had offered to sacrifice his life. If he activated the explosives now before the enemy had the chance to move off towards a safe distance, many lives would be saved. Blinking away a tear, Baxan quickly handed him a make-shift grenade.
Commander Haugen nodded, “I will give you all five minutes to get out.”
He shoved Baxan towards the access tunnel and nodded for the others to follow. There was no time for sentimentality. He had given them a chance to live and they took it. Still clutching his torch, Baxan immediately entered the small tunnel, swiftly followed by the others.
Within less than a couple of minutes, they had reached a short ladder which led up into the cellar of a building. With their hearts pounding inside their chests, they ran up the stairs and reached the ground floor.
The building was deserted. All its residents had been evacuated hours ago to the church. The room stood in darkness, save for the moonlight that flooded through its main window. Half empty tankards of ale sat abandoned upon many tables, identifying the building as a public house.
Jetzan and Gizurr picked up a large table and threw it through the window, shattering its glass into a thousand tiny pieces. They scrambled through its jagged frame and ran no more than ten paces when an explosion hit them.
* * * *
Somewhere deep within the heart of the city an explosion boomed. Almost immediately, the sewers began to heave with signs of enemy activity. The order was quickly given to set alight and empty the bubbling vats of oil into the few remaining exits. Horrific screams echoed deep underground as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
A short lull followed as a shocked silence descended upon the city. Suddenly, twenty Trolls burst out from the city’s bowels. Each creature stood over twelve feet tall and was armed with a heavily spiked club. Blood and brains began to fill the air as they scythed a path through the city’s soldiers. The remaining enemy sensed an opportunity to exit the sewers and followed closely behind, rapidly filling the cobbled streets.
Axcil swore as he saw the morale of the city’s soldiers weaken. It was imperative that one of the Trolls was felled now as soon as possible. Picking out a creature at random he saw one with its back turned to him that was distracted by a group of soldiers. With only seconds to act, he moved forward and sliced his sword deeply behind its knees, severing its tendons. The creature abruptly dropped to its knees and he spun around to race his sword across its throat.
The creature gurgled in surprise, and gripped its throat in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood. Its eyes were already glazing when Axcil raised his sword for the final time to severe its head from its body. The sight of the dead Troll breathed new resolve into city’s soldiers and they pressed forward.
* * * *
As they completed their final aerial sweep of the fort, they saw nothing other than charred remains. Wisps of smoke rose high above the ashen heaps of old fires. Only by examining their scorched armour, could friend be discerned from foe. The rest lay slowly dissipating into a dark dust.
“Oops.” Vank said as he accidentally stepped upon a blackened corpse.
Ellaminva ignored him as her eyes swept the courtyard. Their original mission was to inform the High Dragon of the impending Grand Council with the Tuatha Dé Dannan. What had happened here had changed everything. If he lay dead, they needed to affirm this and locate his body.
“Stay sharp,” she warned as she drew her sword.
They moved ahead cautiously. More bodies lay inside the shadows of the main hall, but no effort had been made to burn them. Ellaminva frowned in confusion. Either they had run out of time or something had happened within the courtyard that they had wished to conceal.
All remained quiet. Suddenly, the silence was broken as a weak moan echoed down the stairs to their right. They gingerly made their way forward with their swords raised to find an injured soldier, barely moving upon the cold stone floor.
“Please help me,” he croaked.
“Yes,” she whispered, “I will get you some water.” She noticed that his leg had swollen to twice its normal size. The infection had spread into his blood and his body was dripping in sweat.
“Here, drink this,” she whispered, blinking away a tear as she lifted his head towards the cup.
“High Dragon…- taken,” he coughed.
Wiping some spilled water from his chin she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Taken to Cave Mirin – heard the demon speak.” He seemed to be struggling to reach for something in the gloom. She moved her hand forward to help and felt the presence of a small circular object. Clasping hold of it, she found that it was a gold medallion that exactly matched the one that Axcil had given to her.
“What demon –.” She stopped as she stared into his vacant eyes.
After reciting a short prayer for the dead she turned to face Vank, “This poor man has given me an item that belongs to the High Dragon. It explains why Axcil could not communicate with him.” The chain around the medallion was broken. She decided that she would find a replacement chain and give it to Vank.
“What are your thoughts?” he asked guardedly.
“We cannot return to Takrak as there is a battle waging. We need help to rescue the High Dragon before he is taken into the cave.” She shuddered in memory of the many tales that she’d heard as a child of the witch that lived there.
Vank paced the floor nervously, “Where can we get help?”
“Ghemand Forest.”
He had heard of its inhabitants. Many generations ago a group of Elves had joined a human separatist sect to live in these forests. The result of their union had created the Hesparin people. Fiercely independent, they were loyal to no one.
He stared at her wordlessly for a moment, “This is madness!” he said as he slumped down onto the cold floor.
“We haven’t much time.” Ellaminva pressed, “We can leave a message here for others to know what has happened and where we are headed.”
They proceeded to search the fort’s armoury and store room. Thankfully, most of its contents had been left untouched. Vank donned a full set of Dragon armour, finally achieving the much needed protection of his chest and belly. He completed his armour set by choosing a handsome blue tipped Dragon helmet. It was armed with a large central spike in the forehead area that was designed for lancing or slicing the enemy at close quarters.
Ellaminva chose a set of human armour. It was made of a light, high grade polished steel. She grimaced at the natural sheen of the metal but grabbed a pot of waterproof dark paint, to blacken it later for camouflage purposes. Within less than an hour, they had completed their preparations and restocked their provisions from the kitchens.
Sensing the need
to speak, she cupped her hands around Vank’s face “We must do this. I am hopeful that the Hesparin will help us,” she frowned, “after all, this evil threatens everyone in Nemedia.”
She sighed and let her hands drop. He looked closely at the face of his best friend. Her face showed signs of strain and the tracks of old tears smudged through the dirt on her face. “I am with you,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
She smiled faintly, “I can always rely upon you.”
After leaving their message nailed upon the front door gates they took immediate flight. The day was drawing to a close but they would not be resting that night within the fort among the dead.
As it sensed them leave, the eyes of the dead soldier flicked open. Its form began to shift, taking on a fluid-like consistency as it began to change. It decided to choose the form of the Elf woman. It had liked the way that she felt when she had touched it. As a demon, it had long forgotten what its original shape was and was often impatient to try out new ones. This new form suited it. “Here, drink this.” It said, perfectly matching the voice of the Elven woman. It smiled, pleased with its new transformation.
The creature referred to by its demon brethren as the Molgarth walked to one of the windows and watched the sun begin to set. The false message had been delivered. By the time anybody found out what had really happened to the High Dragon, it would be too late.
Chapter 14
The forest heaved with signs of life and a strange chattering noise echoed high above their heads within the forest’s canopy. The Dragons had left them several hours ago and they had been slowly picking their way through a faint forest path that finally led them to the outskirts of the city.
Findias was unlike anything that Ethan had ever seen. Its buildings were formed by row upon row of softly entwined branches. The entire city was painted a soft cream colour that perfectly matched the many flowers that surrounded it.
Master Bedwyr led them towards the largest building at the centre of the city, but before they had reached it the doors flew open, “Uncle Bedwyr!” a beautiful young woman cried who immediately wrapped her arms around him.
Her long brown hair and brown eyes possessed a reddish tinge that framed her heart shaped face beautifully. She was quite simply, stunning. Ethan blinked in surprise and blushed, glancing briefly at Cara to find her looking at him disapprovingly.
“So this is him?” she asked as she stood back to eye him up and down. He felt his face redden.
“Talina, may I introduce Ethan Alonso,” he paused, “may I also introduce to you Cara Goldwater,” he straightened his coat with his hands.
Talina kept her eyes on Ethan, “Welcome!” She flashed him a dazzling smile, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
They were taken indoors and each given separate rooms to change themselves out of their soiled travelling clothes. Upon each of their beds was laid a green woollen shirt and trousers that was accompanied by a leather jacket, boots and beautifully engraved set of greaves. Once they had cleaned and dressed themselves, they entered the main hall to receive a plate of hot food and wine.
Talina, King Belenus and his royal assistant, Nassalan Quitox entered the room. The warmth of the evening fire crackled within the hearth as the King spoke, his gaze fixed upon Master Bedwyr, “My old friend it is good to see you.” he paused a moment and there was tension in his voice, “we have found out more since we last spoke.”
Master Bedwyr’s face remained expressionless, “Tell me.”
King Belenus leaned forward and clasped his hands together, “The veil itself is not the problem. The demons were successfully sent back there by Brid Clodagh but she failed to understand that in order for them to remain there, she needed to use two magical seals.”
The Grand Mage leaned forward sharply, “So this is what is causing the loss of magic?”
The King nodded slowly, “Indeed. As the first magical seal weakens, it uses more and more magic in an attempt to sustain itself.”
“What of the second seal?” The Grand Mage man sounded impatient.
“It’s in Ethan’s world.” King Belenus replied without emotion.
The room stood silent for some time. The expression of the Grand Mage grew dark, “To put things right we must firstly stop the draining of magic.”
“You mean end Brid Clodagh’s spell?” Cara gasped in horror, “but that means letting loose thousands of demons that still remain entrapped!”
The room interrupted in a wave of nervous chatter, “Silence!” Nassalan barked.
King Belenus nodded at Cara slowly, “Once we end her spell we can enact the first seal of Ethan’s new one immediately. Hopefully, many of the lesser demons will be pulled back inside the veil before they know what’s happened.” He turned towards Ethan, “You will need someone from Nemedia to return with you to your world to enact the second seal.”
“Don’t I enact the second ritual?” Ethan asked in confusion.
King Belenus shook his head, “No. Just as our world needs someone from your world to enact the first seal, the same is true for your world and the second seal.”
“This is where Talina comes into it?” Ethan asked as he took a gulp of wine.
King Belenus nodded slowly.
“What’s this about marrying someone?” Ethan mumbled, not daring to mention Talina’s name specifically.
Talina’s eyes were full of mischief, “It’s only a symbolic marriage, of you to Nemedia and me to your world. It would be more accurate to call it a Treaty.”
It was agreed that there was no time to lose and in the morning they would go to the Throne of Vines. Just as Brid Clodagh did over two millennia ago, Ethan will drink from the magical waters of the forest and sit upon the throne that allows him to sense the world as he reads the words of power. He will firstly read from a scroll prepared for him by the city’s scholars of the arcane to call for an end to Brid Clodagh’s spell. Once completed, he will then read from a second scroll to enact a new spell that pulls the spirits of fire back inside the veil. Due to the current weakness of magic in Nemedia, it remained unclear how many of these creatures would be immediately entrapped. However, they had no choice in the matter. As magic grew stronger in Nemedia, over time, more demons would be returned inside the veil and once Ethan closed the second seal the creatures would be gone forever.
With their heads aching from too much wine and too much talk, they decided to retire for the night. As Ethan slowly ambled back towards his room he felt the touch of a hand on his arm. It was Cara.
“Can we talk now?” she spoke softly, staring deeply into his eyes.
He nodded and they slowly walked outside to breathe in the cool night air. The sky was clear and stars shined brightly above the city’s many chimney tops as they entered a small clearing that was dappled with purple blooms.
Concern showed in Cara’s eyes, “It might be tomorrow when you leave Nemedia,” she frowned and grabbed his arm, “take me with you.”
“Why do you want to go with me?” Ethan asked as he stared at her intently. He felt his heart quicken at her nearness and could see a plume of mist escape her open mouth.
“You don’t need Talina to go with you to enact the second ritual. I am a mage from Nemedia and I know how to get us back if there are any problems.”
What she said made perfect sense. They could both use magic now and he instinctively touched the ring on his finger. Alexon stirred comfortably in response.
“There is another reason that I want to go with you.” Cara breathed, her gaze intensifying. There was no mistaking her meaning as she leaned in closely. Before he realised that he chosen to respond, their lips met. Suddenly, Cara had wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed with an intensity that surprised them both. After a short time, they parted, smiling awkwardly at one another.
“How can I refuse?” Ethan felt his face blush. The chill of the night slowly got the better of them and they decided to return to take rest for the night. The others had already gone
to bed so they agreed that they would speak with them in the morning. With their cheeks flushed, they padded softly to their own rooms.
* * * *
Gizurr swore as he picked himself up from the dust-filled street where he had landed. His eyes quickly swept the area searching for signs of the enemy. There were none. With his face blackened with dirt, for the first time in many hours he grinned as he breathed in deep gulps of fresh air. The Dwarf looked back towards the building, “No chance of grabbing a beer there anytime soon.”
The public house had simply disappeared, it’s very foundations tumbling deep into the cavern below. The companions moved closer towards the edge of the crater to find a mound of broken stones far beneath them, burying the enemy inside a rocky tomb.
A second, then a third explosion thundered deep underground, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Baxan’s eyes twinkled. Their explosive devices had worked, filling the tunnels with water and drowning the remaining enemy within.
“By Thor’s Great Beard, you did it!” Gizurr grinned, clasping hold of Baxan’s hand and shaking it energetically.
Their smiles were short lived as the sound of distant fighting echoed through the streets. The surviving enemy troops that had already exited the sewers would now be fighting for their lives. They removed their helmets so that the soldiers would not mistake them for the enemy and then swiftly made their way towards the source of the noise.
Before them stood a scene that could have come straight out of hell. The walls and ground were stained with blood and entrails as at least two hundred heavily armed Orcs and a hundred Goblins attacked an increasingly exhausted army of Takrak. Bolstering up their number were ten surviving Trolls. Some of their brethren already lay dead on the cobbles but a significant number remained that were inflicting devastating damage.
“This must stop.” Baxan snarled as his eyes darkened with anger.