The stronghold itself was actually an entire complex of great fortresses, neatly arranged in the same carefully laid grids as the fields, centered around an immense paved square that was probably nearly a mile long on each side. The fortresses were all nearly identical in form, solid, almost featureless structures built of gray stone that had been cut into vast, smooth-sided blocks. Distance was deceptive because the fortresses were so simple in design, being nothing more than massive straight-sided buildings without towers or turrets. When Thelvyn considered the size of the valley itself, he realized that each fortress was nearly the size of a small town, covering an area of nearly a square mile.
But it was the activity in the central square that caught his attention. A great arch of black stone stood in the very middle of the square, an oval that was large enough for both Kharendaen and he to have flown through side by side. The archway opened into a pit of utter darkness. Thelvyn could make out little detail because he could see the arch of stone almost directly from one side, but he had no doubt that this was a worldgate of tremendous size. Whole armies had gathered in the square, neatiy arranged in silent companies as each awaited its turn to advance to the gate. Scores of gemstone dragons were stationed between the companies scattered about the square, or stood about the gate itself. The gate was so large that, even as he watched, three of the Masters came through one after the other, passing on the wing just above a line of freight wagons passing through in the opposite direction.
As he watched from his place of hiding, Thelvyn began to despair of ever being able to fight the army of the Masters, even if he had every dragon alive under his command. The Masters had already lost perhaps a hundred thousand warriors and fighting beasts in their sieges of Rockhome and the Highlands. Ten times that number were gathered in the square below and in hundreds of companies waiting in lines miles long on the roads leading through the two main passes of the ring of mountains. Thelvyn counted at least a score of the immense metal warriors like the one that he had tried to fight outside Braejr. One of the warriors advanced slowly toward the worldgate, following closely behind a line of freight wagons. As impossibly vast as that walking mountain of steel was, the gate was large enough that the metal monster could simply step through the passage.
Thelvyn could not even begin to guess how many fighters and weapons and how many supplies had already been sent through the gate. Companies of warriors and lines of wagons continued along both of the approaching roads for as far as he could see in the dusty darkness. Nor did he have any idea of the true numbers and strength of the Masters themselves. He knew that his own world could not hope to put together an army large enough to face this one, certainly not in the short time available.
"Now I know how they've been able to conquer whole worlds," Thelvyn whispered in awe.
"Remember, they've never had to fight dragons before," Kharendaen remarked, trying to be encouraging. "Or Immortals, for that matter."
"I know now why the Great One thought we were wasting our time trying to fight a defensive war," he said, sitting up. "We can't hope to fight such an awesome army. But if we can defeat the Overlord, all the rest should simply fall apart."
"As easily as all that, Little One?" a strange, deep voice asked, speaking to them as if from the air.
The dragons started, alarmed to realize they had been discovered. In the first instant, they obeyed their fierce instincts, arching their backs and necks as they prepared to fight their unseen enemy. Then Thelvyn's heart sank into despair as he realized he had heard that same voice once before. It was the voice of the Overlord.
Already he realized his mistake. He had underestimated his enemy. The Overlord was said to have the powers of an
Immortal, and here, in his own world, his powers would be at their greatest. Here he was secure, a being of magic rather than mortal form, his mind and will able to be anywhere and everywhere in an instant. In this place, he was indeed almost a god, and Thelvyn's powers as both Dragonlord and Dragonking were very slight in comparison.
In the next moment, Thelvyn and Kharendaen felt almost as if some great, unseen hand had reached out to take them up, drawing them in an instant into the very heart of the Overlord's innermost stronghold. The ridge where they had been hiding was left behind; suddenly they found themselves standing on the smooth stone floor of what seemed to be some vast chamber. The walls and ceiling of the chamber were hidden from them, lost behind the cold, dark mists that surrounded them. But they knew that they were not alone. Standing back to back, they guarded each other as best they could, their heads darting back and forth as they watched the creeping mists. After a moment, they became aware of the large, glittering eyes of the gemstone dragons peering at them out of the darkness.
A portion of the dark mists began to move and take form, slowly becoming the long, horrible face of the Overlord glaring down at them, still mostly hidden in the mists. He gloated over the easy defeat of his greatest enemy, captured with little more effort than a thought.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thelvyn had to force down a sense of panic. He had to suppress the instinct of a dragon to react with fear and a sudden snap of desperate fury when pressed too closely by another, amplified many times over by the terror that faced him. He knew litde of the legends and superstitions of the dragons, but he felt certain that the great, horrible creature that confronted him was the very image of the worst monster that could possibly haunt a dragon's nightmares.
The moment of his capture had been so abrupt, the method so swift and absolute, that he was thrown off his guard. He knew he did not dare give in to a dragon's battle rage. The time to fight had come and gone before he could respond. Now was the time to remain calm and think, to guard his own secrets carefully while he tried to learn all he could. If he was ever to escape from this place, it would be by cunning and stealth.
The mists were beginning to draw back, and the pale light in the center of the chamber where he stood with Kharendaen grew subtly brighter, although the deep gloom didn't lighten much. Even so, he found that they were in a chamber of
tremendous size, the walls and ceiling lost in the distance and the heavy darkness. All he knew for certain about the place was that he was in the middle of a large but shallow pit, the sides so low that he could have simply stepped out if he had dared. Surrounding him were scores, if not hundreds, of the gemstone dragons, waiting half hidden in the mists beyond the edge of the pit. With their strange, faceted armor, watching him quietly with their large, dark eyes, they seemed like alien creatures, hardly something alive. They never spoke or indeed made any sound, giving no hint of their thoughts or mood, standing as silent witnesses to his defeat.
Before him stood the Overlord, a commanding and terrifying presence who moved slowly out of the darkness to confront his prisoner. He was a being of immense size, so that Thelvyn, standing before him, looked as small as a man appeared next to a dragon. Indeed, Thelvyn saw to his surprise that the Overlord was in size and shape very much like his metal warriors, a draconic form perhaps as much as a hundred yards in length, his slender, sinuous body carried on four pairs of legs. But the metal warriors were merely plain, stylized representations of the Overlord, whose armor was a nightmare patchwork of spikes and horns and elaborate frills.
Thelvyn drew back a step in instinctive fear, suddenly aware that his mate was also retreating to stand behind him when she bumped against him. Neither dared to take his or her eyes away from that image of terror standing before them. Clearly the Immortals had not known the true nature of the Overlord, or else they would have never expected him to fight such a monster. But then he forced himself to gather his ragged courage and stand his ground, although his thoughts at that moment did not go beyond the seemingly hopeless possibility of finding a way to save himself and his mate.
"You have come," the Overlord said, staring down at him in amusement. "Dragonlord. Dragonking. Pale hope of desperate Immortals, who dare not act for themselves for fear of risking defeat. I knew
that you would come to me. You are too clever and too bold for your own good. You had to have answers. You knew you were lost if you did not try. Now your trials are done, and I have prepared for you a place where you
can rest from your hopeless labors."
"The Dragonlord and the Great One defeated you once before," Thelvyn retaliated, realizing how weak it sounded as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"You know that is not so," the Overlord corrected him. "I played no part of the battle to which you refer. The Dragonlord and the Great One fought the gemstone dragons, and even then only at a time when their race was young and inexperienced. But that has become irrelevant. You know now that you could destroy the Masters, yet even then you would be a long way from winning your war. You cannot fight me."
"I must try," Thelvyn insisted. "You offer me no choice."
"I have given you no choice," the Overlord repeated. "In truth, I can hardly fault you for opposing me, and for that reason, in all fairness, I should not punish you for the harm that you have done to my servants and my plans."
Thelvyn looked up in surprise, but he saw no compassion or tolerance in those cold eyes.
"But I have no concern with what is fair," the Overlord continued. "I must punish all my enemies when they have been conquered, except those who have been fortunate enough to die in battle. I know a special punishment for you, so that you will long for the escape of death until, in the end, your shall will yourself to die."
The Overlord continued to move slowly forward until he stood just beyond the edge of the pit, staring down at his captives. "They say that you spent most of your life unaware that you were a dragon. Do you still feel a bit uncertain of your dragon identity? I will show you just how much a dragon you are. I will show you what you fear most. I will show you despair such as you have never known."
Thelvyn prepared himself for the assault, expecting to be confronted with visions of horror, or perhaps with pain or longings that were unique to dragons. He was to be shown the worst that a dragon could endure, yet he was not yet dragon enough to anticipate the form that fear would take. The Overlord surprised him by doing nothing. Instead, he moved a few steps back into the dark mists.
"Attack me," the Overlord ordered him after a long moment.
"I promise the Masters will not interfere, no matter what happens. And I will not attack you in turn. I have no wish or need to harm or slay you just yet, I promise you. Come now. Show us first the terrible powers of the Dragonlord."
Thelvyn wasn't certain if he acted by his own will, although he wondered why he responded without hesitation. He changed form, teleporting himself into the armor of the Dragonlord as he did so. The weapons and armor, even the body that he had worn for so much of his life, now seemed strange and awkward to him. The Overlord merely stared down at him with vague interest as he drew the sword and held it out before him, commanding the tremendous powers of the enchantments of ancient Blackmoor.
But his weapon refused to respond to his will, remaining cold and lifeless in his hands. Instead, the weight of his armor seemed to settle heavily about him. He knew what was wrong at once, recalling too well the time that the renegade Fire Wizards had used the Radiance to nullify most of the powers of his armor and weapons. Clearly the Overlord was strong enough in his own magic that he could defeat the powers of the Dragonlord by the most direct means, by simply stripping away those enchantments.
For a long moment, Thelvyn could only stand motionless in surprise as he realized what had happened. Then he slowly lowered the heavy sword. In the next moment, he was struck squarely in the breastplate of the armor by some massive force, as if he had been struck a blow with a mammoth, unseen club. The usual protections of the armor had failed entirely, so that he took the full force of the impact. It lifted him entirely from the ground and hurled him backward against Kharendaen's chest. The dragon was so startled that she jumped back in alarm. By then it was too late for her to catch him as he fell.
Thelvyn struggled to move, but he had had the breath knocked from him in his fall, and he hurt all over. The weight of the armor was too much for him to lift. When Kharendaen tried to help him up, she found herself gently but firmly pushed aside by some unseen force. As the moments passed, Thelvyn found himself struggling for breath more than ever. In the past, the helmet had always supplied its own cool, fresh air by means of its native enchantments. Now even that power was subdued, and he was beginning to suffocate within the sealed armor.
Realizing he had only moments to save himself, Thelvyn rolled over so that he could push himself up against the dead weight of the armor and rose to his knees. Only then was he able to release the clips at his neck, yank off the helmet, and gasp for breath. In the next moment the armor vanished, tele-porting away in the usual manner, except that this time it hadn't been through his will. Apparently the Overlord retained control over his armor. Thelvyn tried to return to his draconic form, only to find that even that power was denied to him. His enemy could control him as easily as his armor, preventing him from regaining his true form.
"That didn't go at all well, did it?" the Overlord asked in mocking tones. "Your previous enemies worked so hard to fight the power of your armor. Why did they never think to simply take it from you?"
Thelvyn didn't have the breath to reply even if he had wanted to. He knew the answer well enough; no one had ever tried to take the armor from him by will alone because only the Overlord had the strength of will to accomplish that. He felt vulnerable, even rather frightened, to find himself isolated from the protection of his armor and weapons. He realized now that the Overlord's intention was to humiliate him. He tried not to give in to such a simple tactic, but he couldn't help feeling the deep humiliation that was being forced upon him.
"Would you feel better if you could be a dragon again?" the Overlord asked. "Do you think the Dragonking would have a better chance of fighting me? That was what you were born to do, was it not?"
Thelvyn shifted abruptly to his 'true form, although he had not willed it. He immediately gathered himself to spring, then launched himself at his enemy. The ill-considered move was by no design of his own; obviously his actions were planned for him. Clearly the Overlord intended to demonstrate the utter futility of any attempt to fight, whether Thelvyn wanted to play along or not. If he couldn't even control his own mind and body, then he could not hope to take on the Overlord. All he
could do now was wait and hope he didn't suffer too greatly.
Needless to say, the Overlord anticipated his charge and responded quickly, lifting his neck up and out of the way and stepping aside so that he could easily swat his much smaller opponent out of the air with the back of his claw. Thelvyn was caught by the blow in midleap and knocked backward. Kharendaen moved to try to break his fall, but once again she was pushed aside by some unseen force. The force of the impact was great enough that Thelvyn was thrown all the way across the wide pit, crashing his back heavily against the top of the low wall of the pit.
Thelvyn slumped to the floor of the pit and sprawled limply. Waves of pain exploded from the middle of his back, and he could only lie with his back and neck arched stiffly as he waited, trying to endure the first few moments of agony. Kharendaen couldn't help him even if she had been free to go to him. Isolated from the Great One in this strange world, she didn't even have her healing powers as a cleric to call upon.
"Now see what you've done. You've gone and hurt yourself," the Overlord said, moving to the edge of the pit to stare down at him in mock pity. "You should not have undertaken tasks that were beyond your limited abilities. But that was decided for you, wasn't it?"
Thelvyn could barely turn his head slightly to look up. The gray mists were gathering close again, and the darkness seemed all the heavier and more oppressive through the haze of his pain. The Overlord's nightmare face was hovering just above him, and now the Masters had also gathered about the edge of the pit to witness his defeat and humiliation. They did not laugh or ridicule him in a
ny way, nor did they offer any compassion. They only watched him closely, with expressions he could only describe as patient hunger, like a dragon awaiting in pleasant anticipation of a roasted haunch of elk. He believed that they looked upon his defeat as the last remaining obstacle to their conquest of the world they had once tried to claim as their own, and the punishment of those who had once denied their ambitions.
There was nothing he could do to stop them, Thelvyn realized bitterly, not now and perhaps never again. He was too weak to stand up to the power of the Overlord. At that moment, he wondered if he would ever fight again. Pain burned like a raging fire in the middle of his back, and he couldn't move his hind legs or his tail.
"Are you beginning to learn what it means to be a dragon?" the Overlord asked as the faces began to draw back into the enclosing mists. "Perhaps you did not know that even you possessed the tremendous pride of a dragon until your pride was turned to bitterness. What would the dragons think of their king if they knew you had always believed you did not share the faults of their draconic nature, their pride, their temper, their greed, their capacity for cruelty, because you were not born a dragon? You thought you were better than they because you were the chosen of the Immortals."
Thelvyn closed his eyes so that he didn't have to see those faces fading away into the mists, but he couldn't stop himself from hearing those terrible words. He could only weep quiedy for all the pain he was being made to endure.
D& D - Mystara 03 Dragonmage of Mystara Page 31