The Tomb of the Dark Paladin

by Tom Bielawski

  The snake slithered up to Carym and bit his left hand before he knew even what was happening; Gennevera cried out in anger, prepared to defend him. Carym recoiled in surprise and gripped his hand in fear, rubbing it nervously at the site of the bite. Then the snake returned to the shaman and became a staff once more. The wound on his hand closed leaving a serpent shaped scar on his hand.

  "Rise Carym of Hyrum. You are now a member of our tribe, welcome." Carym was stunned; he didn't know what to say. Was he being honored? It seemed so, but the use of the snake made him question all. The king embraced him in a hug filled with genuine affection and warmth, Hala looked on with pride in her eyes.

  "You are now entitled to the privileges of the watchers, our knights. I now grant you rank and title in our society. I command you to take your company to the Tomb of the Dark Paladin and protect it from our enemies as best you can. We will do what we can to hinder the enemy."

  "Thank you your majesty," he was overcome as members of the tribe, including Hala, embraced him in turn.

  A loud screech pierced the air, a shadow passed overhead momentarily blocking out the sun's light. A window in the court of the king shattered sending shards of glass flying into the room and the tip of a segmented tail flicked by.

  "What sort of demon was that?" said the knight, drawing his weapon. The creature screeched again and all in the chamber felt the press of time upon them. The Shadowfyr's hunters were closing the distance.

  "Wasp dragon!" hissed Bart. "Majesty, let us help you fight them!"

  "We have fought these beasts before and have our own ways of dealing with them!" The king gripped his staff and slammed it into the wooden floor. The staff began to glow amber and shrouded the king in its light. In seconds the king was gone, in his place stood something that was part jaguar and part human. Nearly eight feet tall now, the king's feline attributes made him a fearsome sight to behold.

  "Princess, take them to the tomb!" shouted the king. Then, reverting to his native language, he shouted orders to his men for the defense of the city. The princess ushered Carym and his companions out of the hall and down to the ground level. The sounds of soldiers running to and fro among the limbs of the great tree were muted by the wasp dragon's infernal buzzing.

  The thing had a striking similarity to the wasp dragon he and his companions had battled in the Underllars. It was every bit as big and its scorpion tail curled up and over the head of its mailed rider. It had two great forelegs, each ending in a wicked, dagger-like spike. Its wings thrummed in the air, buzzing like that of an angry wasp, sending a palpable and terrifying vibration through the air.

  The wasp dragon's eerie sound spurred Carym on. Once the group reached ground level, they were met by a contingent of mounted warriors with horses waiting for them. The sounds of thunderclaps and splintering wood split the air as the wasp dragon soared over them and smashed a catwalk with its long tail. Then two giant birds ridden by tribesmen soared from the sky and began attacking the wasp dragon and its dark mailed rider. Carym hoped there was only one of those creatures, but somehow he didn't think they would be so lucky.

  The group quickly mounted their horses and, led by Jaguar Knights turning into actual jaguars in bursts of amber light, they raced into the forest. Carym was thankful that these horses were used to the presence of these giant predatory cats, they were not spooked in the slightest. The group raced deeper into the forest in single file, weaving through the trees. Carym was second to last in line; a Jaguar Knight followed closely behind, feline eyes glowing with awareness. He wondered what Hala must be thinking now, fleeing as her homeland came under attack from the most evil beings in the universe. Then a gut wrenching fear, like the approach of death itself, caused him to look frantically about. Bewildered, he saw that others were as unsettled as he. Then, the reason for his fears surfaced.

  Another wasp dragon!

  The beast swooped down from the sky. Shrieking it dove right for the group. Instinctively the group broke ranks and sought cover in the tree line on both sides of the path, forcing the sky borne monster to single out one victim. Carym felt sickened as the beast's carrion odor wafted through the air. Wasp dragons were the worst scavenger-predators on Llars, preferring to feed on things already dead, yet, ironically, willing to fight and kill for the living being commanding them from their backs. This one had a carapace that was translucent white with large vent holes that allowed it to breathe. Its many eyes were milky white and it had a mouth filled with wickedly churning mandibles that dripped acidic saliva.

  As the beast swooped towards one of the warriors who had been at the front of the column, it spread its wings, buzzing madly, slowing its momentum. Suddenly, in a flurry of wings and feathers, a pair of great raptors rammed into the descending wasp dragon from each side. The force of the impact caused the beast to plummet to the ground but not before furiously slashing its long tail. One of the mad swings struck home and the razor sharp spike at the end of the tail pierced one of the raptor warriors in the wing. The bird immediately shifted into the form of a human and dropped to the ground, bloody and still. The wasp dragon thrashed about amongst the trees and buzzed its wings angrily before shooting back into the air.

  Ederick and the other warriors took up a defensive posture and prepared for a possible assault from following ground troops. Carym hopped from his mount and grabbed the fallen warrior by his shoulders. Together, he and Hala dragged the man into the protection of the dense tree line.

  Carym looked to the sky for signs of the wasp dragon. The remaining raptor warrior forced the beast higher into the sky with its attacks. Carym hoped the enemy was weakened and unsteady. He was oddly reminded of the times that he would see small mockingbirds harassing large hawks and eagles to the point that the larger birds would give up and fly away. Some of the warriors on the ground fired arrows at the beast as their raptor warrior counterpart rammed it with great speed the way a falcon hunted its pray. Then, several sleek black ravens joined the fray; pecking, striking, and otherwise attacking the hissing, buzzing, beast. Yet, even with the barrage of arrows from the ground and the fury of the attacking ravens, the wasp dragon and its mailed rider were relentless. The beast's great tail thrashed and struck down several of the attacking ravens and finally managed to impale the raptor warrior with its great spike.

  Carym made his way to the fallen raptor knight. Gennevera was there already and placed a hand over the man's wounds. She then drew her powerful wand and placed it over the wound in the fallen Jaguar Knight's chest. The Sisters of Gennevera's order had examined that wand and learned that it had the ability to store magical energy; they used it to store healing magic that was unique to their order. In moments, the wound closed, covered by a large red sore. Carym was pleased to see the Jaguar Knight's breathing returned to normal.

  "We must keep moving," urged another Jaguar warrior, his skin sprouting a sheen of glistening black fur, his eyes flaring with yellow light. "He will live, we must go!"

  Bart removed his staff and broke it down into its pieces, brandishing his twin blades. He waved the swords in the patterns of the language of the Air Sigil weaving a spell. With a thunderous clap, a blast of air burst forth from the bard's blades causing the beast to falter and his rider to fall. The heavily mailed warrior fell to the earth with a crunch. The rider's helm fell off after he hit the ground, revealing the stark features of the fearsome hurkin. More and more ravens answered an unheard call from Hala's people and attacked the beleaguered wasp dragon.

  "Right," said Carym, warily watching the beast. "Hala, we're ready!"

  The wasp dragon, enraged at the loss of its rider, buzzed angrily above the treetops, spitting acid and raking the trees with its claws, even as its many eyes were being pecked bloody by the flock of ravens trailing it and forcing it lower to the ground. The creature shrieked as it spewed acid bile onto the trees below, its many legs dragging along the snow-covered treetops and showering the group in icy white powder. Finally, the beast was forced to the gr
ound, unable to fly.

  Hala shouted a command at her warriors. The men shoved their spears in the air and shouted an answer in unison, then turned to face the shrieking beast that was thrashing its way through the boughs of the trees, still trying to free itself from the torments of the flock of ravens. Then, another shrill screech pierced the air and the companions saw a second wasp dragon bearing a hurkin rider coming to the aid of his fellow.

  C H A P T E R

  F O U R T E E N

  ~

  Shalthazar and Zerelis stood in a copse of trees on a hill overlooking a small farming village near Fort Ogerwall. The air was cool and the sky above was steel gray, a light snow was gently falling. Below the hilltop where the two wizards stood were a number of snow-covered fields outlined in neat squares by stone walls. A small cottage with a thatched roof and a trail of gray smoke drifting lazily into the still winter air was the only sign of habitation in the area. The elves were dressed similarly in trousers and coats of varying shades of black, white, and gray. Each wore a cloak of the pattern. Behind them stood one of the dark wizards' new creations. This cottage was in truth an outpost of the Cklathish Kingdom of Ayre, the closest to Fort Ogerwall. One from which the Cklathish sent stealthy patrols to spy on the Nashians.

  "All is ready, Master."

  Shalthazar nodded, he had been so still that a small dusting of snow had accumulated upon his head, dislodging after the slight gesture. The Master of the Wizard Corps had been preoccupied with a staggering number of calculations occurring simultaneously in his magically enhanced mind, but he was completely aware and cognizant of the moment. "Proceed."

  Zerelis turned to face the creature that lay within the wagon behind him. The newest iteration of their creation was vaguely manlike in its appearance, having a head and torso with two arms and two legs. Nevertheless, this creature was like nothing that had ever before walked on Llars. It was a vile and corrupt thing that reeked of death. Its flesh was pasty and rotted through in places, fluids magically transfused to nourish its flesh oozed from within. Had it been warm enough, the dark wizard and his apprentice would likely have been plagued by a cloud of flies, something that could prove a welcome addition to the creature's attributes in battle. But the creature's most disturbing features were the long seams that ran in zigzags revealing a patchwork of flesh knitted together like a horrible quilted hide. It was truly an abomination. It made Shalthazar proud.

  Zerelis wet the tip of his finger and then traced a Sigil in the language of the Shadow onto the creature's forehead and chanted the words in the language of the Shadow that would command the creation. Slowly, a vaporous shadow formed in the air around the creature and wrapped it in inky darkness. Then the darkness surrounding the creature vanished and its hollow eye-sockets flared to life with points of darkfire, pools of radiant blackness reflecting the depth of the evil of its master.

  The dark wizard reached his mind into the Tides and analyzed the flow of the magic into and out of his creation for some time. He examined its capabilities of absorbing energy and the amount of energy it would expend to move and to fight. It was a costly spell; it would take at least one apprentice to animate just one creature. With the flick of a finger, he negated the Sigilspell and the creature's eyes darkened once more.

  "Can it be done, Master?" asked Shalthazar's favorite student. "Will it work better than our first iteration?"

  "It will be costly in terms of the amount of magic, and absolute control, necessary to animate it. Which is precisely what we expected. I believe, my apprentice, that we have unlocked one area in which Arcane magic is superior to the Sigils."

  "Let me begin, Master!"

  "Very well," said Shalthazar. The elder wizard stepped back and watched as his apprentice removed a scroll from an obsidian scroll case. The parchment was the finest that the elf had been able to find, the ink was blood freshly drained from a live prisoner; it was worth a small fortune. Money was no object to the evil wizard, and neither were the lives expended to retrieve the necessary physical component to the spell: Paladin's Onyx. It was an extremely rare gem. The wizard's apprentice managed to find a small cache of them aboard a pirate corsair that had been marauding the coastline of the new Nashian territories. Unfortunately, none of the crew had survived capture to question them about the origin of the stones.

  Zerelis placed gems of Paladin's Onyx in the eye-sockets of the creature and stepped back. He read the scroll aloud, intoning each syllable precisely as instructed by Shalthazar with the precise speed and rhythm. The spell was very long, it took Zerelis nearly three minutes of continuous reading to complete. When he was finished, the scroll consumed itself in fire and then to ash. Slowly the black gems began to glow as though superheated, finally melting into pools of inky liquid. Zerelis then recited another spell that he had committed to memory called detection, which allowed him to conduct the proper analysis of his creation. Shalthazar watched intently as the previously invisible aura surrounding the creature appeared, and told them what they needed to know. This creature was bound by the spirits of those who had died to give it life, their very souls gave it its power. The spirits were trapped within the beast and the bond that existed between the creator and the created allowed the wizard to control its actions.

  "Bid it rise," commanded the dark elf. At the apprentice's bidding, the creature lumbered off the flat wooden cart and onto its feet. It stood still, awaiting further instruction.

  "How long with this spell last?" asked the apprentice.

  "It will expire soon," he answered. "We must not give our creation too much power until we are ready."

  "Why is this so much more efficient than the Sigils?"

  "The Arcanium language allows a magic-wielder to create a desired outcome with precision and accuracy. The creator of a spell, with deliberate research and care, can craft a spell that will call for every detail necessary to carry out the spell's desired effect. Every mathematical equation must be computed to its fullest extent so that only the desired results will occur. Each word is a finely crafted set of instructions that tells the magic precisely how to build and construct the proper effect. This spell took a great deal of understanding to perfect."

  "So Arcanium delivers a more refined and precise form of magic, though it requires greater knowledge and preparation to use," surmised the apprentice.

  "Precisely. This golem is balanced in magic and I know exactly what it is capable of, because I created the spell that gave it life. As the person who cast the spell, you may direct it to obey the commands of another."

  "I am grateful, Master, for the discovery you made. The addition of this powerful magic to our arsenal will make us nearly invincible! With an army of these, who could stand in our way?"

  "Indeed. It will be far too costly to create an army of golems in the same manner, which is why I've sent Arawyn to the Broken Islands to locate the Cauldron of Bones."

  "The Cauldron of Bones," whispered Zerelis. "Do you think it truly exists, Master? Yerkses won't likely give that up."

  "It exists," answered the powerful wizard. "Yerkses' acquisition of the Broken Islands is an untimely hindrance, but not one that we cannot overcome. Begin the test."

  Shalthazar shared the link between his apprentice and the golem, thus he was free to monitor the minds of both. Zerelis stepped back and mentally bid the creature to step forward. The creature's first step was clumsy and it lurched forward with an ungainly step. But after mere moments, the golem began to walk steadily and strong. It adapted to its body quickly and obeyed orders. Zerelis sent a mental command to the golem, showing it the village below in his mind's eye. Shalthazar sensed his apprentice's anticipation as their unholy creation shuffled off.

  The creature began moving faster as it went along, they watched it charge down the hill. The master was pleased with his apprentice's control, and the invisible tether that connected Zerelis to the golem was alive with magical energy. It was all going remarkably faster than it could have had they used the S
igils to control it. Shalthazar wondered abstractly if there were a similar code to be broken within the Sigil languages, but pushed that thought aside for later analysis.

  The creature was noisy, far noisier than Shalthazar liked for an instrument of death, a hunter of the Shadows. After this experiment was complete, they would have to revisit the procedures used in its creation to encourage more finesse of movement, perhaps allowing it more control over its limbs. He almost laughed out loud as the creature stumbled and fell as it attempted to negotiate a rock wall. It lay on its side, kicking and making itself move in a circle on the ground until the creature finally figured out how to stand. Once righted, it clambered over the wall and began moving onward toward the cottage.

  "Is there something wrong with the spell, Master?"

  "Perhaps we need to add in a formula to give it enhanced dexterity and coordination, an assassin cannot be so clumsy."

  "But a solider can. I could cast a ward of silence around the golem to keep it from making so much noise, making it a better soldier. Perhaps we should consider a different subject for an assassin."

  "Excellent observation, apprentice. Shadowblade seems to possess more than enough skill to carry out assassinations. What we truly need are soldiers."

  The two wizards looked on as the creature trudged toward the cottage on the periphery of the small village. Shalthazar wondered how the Ayersmen living there hadn't heard the cumbersome creature approaching yet. As the creature came within one hundred yards of the cottage a barrage of arrows appeared in the air, seemingly from nowhere, and rained down onto the creature's head and torso. Shalthazar and his men had known the Ayersmen were there of course, the wizard wanted see how his creation would react to being attacked.