Escana

by J. R. Karlsson

  'You may enter.'

  Hern obliged, finding the man sat at his desk and scratching away at paper as if nothing were awry.

  'One moment if you please,' Dyson said, his head focused firmly on the paper as he finished off a document of some importance, Hern was beginning to wonder if the Corporal knew who his guest was.

  He carefully placed the quill to one side and looked up at Hern, betraying no surprise at finding an assassin at his door.

  'If you'd kindly bolt the door we may have enough time for a conversation.'

  Hern kept his eyes on the man, was this some sort of trap? Why didn't he detect the slightest bit of trepidation? He bolted the door hastily and stayed near it, scanning the room for potential dangers.

  Dyson followed his gaze. 'There is no trap, it is just you and I in this office and I have no particular plans for your demise. I must say that while your departure into the desert was most unfortunate your subsequent return has caused a great deal of unrest.'

  'If you define unrest as killing everything then yes, I suspect that you are correct.'

  The man shrugged. 'The results of your wanton destruction are immaterial now. In attempting to exhume my bodyguard you have made a grievous error that has condemned us all.'

  'What is this Yalem creature of yours? I have never encountered such a beast in all my time.'

  Dyson shuffled a few papers before setting them to one side. 'I do not feel compelled to answer any of your questions. If you would hurry along and end this in the short time remaining I would appreciate it.'

  So the thing approaching their office was no longer Dyson's loyal bodyguard, it would continue to limp its way through Greyhawk, killing everything it came across including its master.

  'I do not think I shall kill you,' Hern replied. 'You may yet have your uses, I swore on my honour that every man in Greyhawk would die. That creature you hold no power over is not a man and is accomplishing my purpose quite adequately.'

  He walked over to the man's desk, taking a seat opposite him and staring directly into his eyes. 'No, you would prefer that I end you so that you need not deal with Yalem. I do not intend to give you that satisfaction.'

  Dyson sighed. 'Then you have condemned us both to a painful death. So be it.'

  A pounding came on the door then, as they had suspected it would. What wasn't suspected was the voice that followed it.

  'Corporal Dyson, we know you're in there. Open this damn door so that we may discuss the terms of your surrender.'

  The Corporal smiled. 'A most unfortunate time for a hostile takeover, wouldn't you say?' He raised his voice then, addressing the man behind the door. 'You will have to break this door down before I negotiate with the likes of you!' His voice had the perfect inflection of paranoia and fear, making Hern question the sincerity of the man's previous ravings.

  'Then so be it!' came the voice, clearly angry. 'Boys, kick his fucking door down.'

  A series of thuds rattled the door as boots sank into it, the wood was of sturdy construction though and would take some time before giving way.

  Dyson reached down into his drawer and Hern flicked out his blade, letting it rest on the man's throat.

  'I urge you to relax, it would serve me no purpose now to kill you. Instead I give you a final opportunity my Je'daran friend, we end this swiftly and with dignity before those who think less of us do otherwise.'

  He carefully drew out a decanter of red liquid, possibly wine, and placed it on the table in front of Hern. 'I suggest a toast, to the ending of all things. I use this fine vintage to dispatch traitors but it will serve our purpose at this time.'

  Hern took the blade away from the man's throat and drew the decanter toward him, watching the thick poison swirl inside like blood. With the flat of his blade he swung and sent it flying into the far wall, shattering it. Dyson's face betrayed a flicker of fear, replaced with disappointment.

  'I'm not thirsty,' Hern replied, pulling his weapon away from the table and continuing to stare at the Corporal. There would be no easy way out for this man.

  A scream came from the corridor, followed by another and more frantic pounding on the door. It would appear that Yalem had arrived.

  They listened in silence as the screams turned to sobbing and pleading, only for that to subside and the single remaining thumping on the door slowing then ceasing entirely. Whoever had been behind that door and intent on usurping Dyson's position was now lying dead in the corridor.

  A single strike to the door made the hinges squeal in protest, as if a giant body had been thrown against it. Hern knew otherwise, the point of impact was too small for that to be the case. The man, if you could call it a man, had drawn back his fist and was ramming it into the door.

  'Admittedly I would have picked better company to share my final moments with, yours shall have to suffice. It is most unfortunate that you decided against killing me outright, this is going to be very painful and not altogether swift.'

  Hern wasn't paying much heed to the man, his mind was working rapidly on finding an alternative to a final gambit that seemed too simplistic to possibly work. He doubted he'd have enough time to devise one as the door almost buckled under another strike from Yalem.

  Dyson made a leap for him, thinking his attentions were elsewhere, a mistake on his part as Hern leapt out of the seat and rushed to the other side of the table. In an attempt to wrestle free one of his blades or die trying, the Corporal had unwittingly played right into his hands. Could this actually work?

  The strikes were rhythmic, so if he timed this correctly he could use Dyson as bait for the monster as he staged an escape. Not his most ingenious of plans but it would have to suffice.

  He ducked under the desk just as the final shattering blow struck the door, a thudding sound directly in front of him sent the desk flying toward him and pinned him against the wall. The door had flown into Dyson and he was now sandwiched, leaving Hern trapped under the desk and pressed up against the far wall.

  He probed the inside of the table to see if there was any give between it and the floor but the wood was firmly sealed to the stone under the pressure of the body and door, there was no way out.

  After several attempts to shove the weight clear with his feet, Hern lay still and listened to the surroundings.

  Footsteps had drawn closer to the table now, Yalem seemed to be ignoring Dyson's body. Presumably the Corporal had been killed in the impact, so much for his plan of using him as a decoy. He didn't panic in spite of the grimness of the situation, if he was trapped in here and the creature beyond wanted him dead it would first have to extricate him from the furniture. In those brief moments of the desk being cleared he may be given an opportunity to escape. If it lacked the strength to remove the objects pinning him then he would die of thirst, a fate somehow worse than whatever had previously been in store for him. He had everything to gain from the scrabbling noises he now heard as it attempted to find a grip on the wood surface with which to pull upon.

  He heard a groaning sound as the door was lifted off the desk, he pushed hard with his feet, bracing his back against the wall for further support. The table was heavy and its shifting was gradual rather than the sudden movement that Hern desired, nevertheless it opened up his window of opportunity. He sprang free of the desk and buried a sword in the creature's side as it started to relinquish its grip on the door. It let out a gurgling yell of protest but by that time Hern was already sprinting clear of the room and vaulting over the dead bodies piled outside. He was free.

  120

  Gadtor

  Gadtor thought that fear would be the overwhelming feeling as their forces were torn apart by lizards on both sides, he was wrong though. Instead he found himself frustrated at being pinned to Thom and incapable of defending himself adequately. It was a strange thing to want as regardless of his mobility they were dead, he supposed that he wanted to meet death on his own terms at the height of his powers rather than caught in some snare like a wounded animal.r />
  He listened as the General bellowed out commands that largely went unheeded, this was no place for discipline or controlled aggression, they were being overrun and panic had spread instantly through the ranks of men that knew their time was finally up. Thom would have had more luck shouting at the sands to part upon his every footfall.

  What was worse than the inevitable knowledge of their demise was having to hear it draw closer, the screams of the men were more sickening than anything he had experienced in Urial and on a scale he couldn't comprehend. There was no brief impalement, a cry followed by a gurgling slump, these soldiers were being torn to pieces before the very eyes of comrades who knew that they would be next.

  Thom's voice had finally subsided and he soon drew out Skullcleaver, his great two-handed claymore. The look on his face was one of strange acceptance, there was no fear there. It made Gadtor feel bad about his previous futile urges to bolt, he knew there was nowhere to go and that Thom wouldn't follow his lead if he were to attempt it. Now that the time was finally upon them, Gadtor found that he could not share the same outlook as his fellow prisoner, he was not ready to die.

  'Draw your blade,' Thom urged him. Gadtor looked down stupidly, realising that he had been surveying the battle without a weapon in his hand. He complied, thinking better of asking the man what the point was. He knew he had to die on his feet like the rest of the men who had refused to run.

  'If I were a praying man this would be the time I'd seek divine intervention,' Gadtor quipped, wondering how much longer it would take before the lizards were atop of their position.

  Thom gave him a disgusted look. 'We are here because of the fucked up choices we made in our lives, there will be no divine retribution to save us from the grasp of the desert.'

  For once, Gadtor felt inclined to agree with him.

  Then the ranks of men between them and the creatures buckled, spilling forth a giant scaly head that butted its way into their path. It was a strange sight, its skull markedly larger than any other lizard Gadtor had seen, sporting huge chunks of what looked like bone protruding from either side of its cranial carapace. It used these to hammer a path clear for its lesser kin, obviously relishing the crowded environment in which it could swing its bludgeoning fury about.

  It spotted them, eyeing their weapons with mild contempt and roaring out a challenge. Thom yelled back at it, brandishing Skullcleaver menacingly, the gesture was hollow. Gadtor suspected that even if he hadn't been attached, no one man could take a creature that size.

  It pounded its heavy fore-claw into the earth, preparing for a charge that would crush them against the canyon wall, it seemed momentarily confused that they had made no attempt to flee.

  He felt a nudge in the ribs then, Thom was trying to get his attention for some reason.

  'When I tell you to dive, we both dive to the right. Our momentum should take us clear of the impact if we time it correctly.'

  Gadtor nodded, the idea of fighting this thing seemed crazy but better that than being pasted against the rocky surface. Was Thom hoping that the creature would daze itself upon impact? In spite of its size it looked a keen predator, not something to be out-tricked so simply.

  'What's your plan after we dive clear of the initial impact?'

  Thom smiled. 'I cut it until it runs away.'

  That didn't fill Gadtor with confidence.

  A strange noise filled the canyon, it was deep and resonant as if blown from some great horn, was this a victory cry from the lizards?

  He looked at Thom in query but the man had gone deathly pale at the sound, he finally knew then that this was the end and let it show on his features.

  'It can't be...' Gadtor heard him murmur, was he so dismayed by defeat? It had seemed inevitable to him since they had been trapped here by the final assault of the lizards, he figured that Thom would have shared that view.

  Something was standing between their blades and the lizard, its back turned to them and facing off against the previous threat.

  The lizard bellowed in frustration, as if demanding it be granted passage to this new kill. The figure unslung a great axe from his back, the action prompted the lizard to take a few steps closer.

  'What is this?' Gadtor asked, completely baffled. He was afforded no answer, Thom's entire being seemed bent upon witnessing the events unfolding before them.

  It wasn't human, he could tell that the moment he set eyes upon it. It stood well over seven feet in height and its skin was a dark green hue the likes of which he had never seen before. It truly was skin too, there were no hints of scales upon the heavily muscled arms that broke out of the cuirass. It appeared that this was was neither a kin nor a friend of the lizards.

  A deep growling sound emanated from the strange creature then, the hackles on Gadtor's neck rose in primal terror and the noise had a similar effect on the lizard.

  It backtracked at an increased speed now, looking to put some distance between itself and the newcomer...

  Gadtor blinked, the axe fell, a shriek was cut off with a strange crunch and the horn was blown again, its basso rumble bouncing off the canyon walls as if it could hold back an army.

  The creature leapt away in a cloud of sand, faster than Gadtor's eye could follow. The lizards no longer seemed to be attacking, their flight was punctuated by a combination of frightened squeals and death shrieks. They had been left alone once more.

  He turned, looking at Thom in askance, he needed to know what had just happened. Was this the divine intervention he had jokingly asked for?

  Thom remained almost statuesque in his immobile silence, it was as if he had been frozen in time by the sight of this singular action. Gadtor nudged him in the ribs and he briefly shook his head as if clearing a vision, then settled his gaze upon him.

  'Before you ask what that was, allow it to return and introduce itself. I saw a brief flicker of recognition in it, it shall want to pursue that at its leisure when it is done hunting.'

  The sounds grew more distant as Thom spoke, whatever it was that had saved them seemed to be herding the remaining lizards away from the canyons and into the open desert.

  Their waiting gave Gadtor an opportunity to gaze about him with a mixture of disgust and pity at the bodies of lizard and man alike strewn over the desert like so much refuse between the canyon walls. A few stunned men picked their way through the corpses with wild eyes and blank faces, they dotted the carpet of bodies like weeds that had escaped the garden blade.

  He found he had collapsed into the sand then, heedlessly pulling Thom down with him as he retched, his body rebelling against the sight of so much carnage.

  Eventually he was pulled to his feet by a strong pair of hands, the creature stood eyeing them with a curious expression upon its face.

  He froze then, pondering desperately at what this thing's intentions could be, was this solitary figure truly what the entire lizard army had been fleeing from?

  'You fought bravely, considering the frantic nature of your opposition. I wish to extend my apologies for the loss of life my pursuit of these beasts has cost.'

  Gadtor stood agape, the thing was offering him an apology?

  'You alone caused this whole army to flee?'

  The creature shook its head, its expressions and language seemingly human enough if hard to follow. 'I am but an advance scout for a greater force that is coming, we aim to eradicate the lizard presence from the surface of our lands.'

  'There's more of you?' Gadtor couldn't help but ask. Having seen the thing in combat he had no doubts that an army of them could destroy the Empire. He was all for the upheaval of such a monolithic political structure but not at the loss of all those living there, not from an invasion.

  It was Thom who answered his question. 'No, there is only one of him. I know not the army that he chooses to lead but he is thankfully the last of his kin.'

  It turned to Thom then, satisfied that its apology had been enough for Gadtor. 'We are both lone wolves by nature, General Thom.
In spite of our ways we've both found ourselves at the head of armies, an odd twist of fate wouldn't you say?'

  'I don't believe in fate, Torr.' Thom snarled back at him, Gadtor had no idea why the man was being so hostile but he sensed a deep recognition between the two of them. There was an undercurrent here that he remained unaware of, much like when The Hermit had first encountered El-Vador.

  'So what happens now?' Gadtor finally asked, breaking the tension of the stares.

  The creature looked back at him and that's when a recognition of his own hit. Torr. The exclamatory word often taken by men of all stations. A large monster conjured out of the depths of fairy tales to scare children and spell woe for any it encountered. Could the stories have some basis in fact?

  'I can see the recognition in your eyes, young one. They do not deceive you, I am the same Torr of legend and I have returned to claim my rightful place upon the Imperial throne.'

  'You plan to invade once again?' Thom asked, sounding weary. 'I suppose that makes us your prisoners, doesn't it?'

  Torr frowned at him. 'Prisoners is such an ugly word, you are my companions in arms for the duration of our purging. My hope is that you will learn the values of my people and when we finally turn our attentions to the world outside of our desert that you will join us in arms against the Empire.'

  Thom kept quiet at that, it was clear that Torr was unaware that the survivors of the lizard's last assault were all that was left of the Imperial army.

  The creature glanced down at their legs, noticing their imprisonment for the first time. 'I see you have been offered that which you shunned once before, I choose to offer you this gift a final time.'

  Gadtor watched as Thom's face was transformed from one of weary acceptance into deep yearning, was it power that both El-Vador and now Torr had been offering him? What was it about Thom that he knew who these powerful creatures were already?

  'If you are willing to aid me I shall join your cause, I have since decided that death does not suit someone like me quite yet. There is much work yet to be done before I may join my friends.'