by Edward Brody
The shamans shouted orders, and one of the onlookers ran towards the fleeing orc and picked up the startled child.
While the orc carried the infant back towards the Cataclysm, the female who had attempted to flee turned, pushed herself up to her knees, and held a hand out in dismay. She crawled forward and screamed, but everyone ignored her. As the orc carrying the child grew closer and closer to the edge, the female scampered to her feet and ran for him.
The shaman summoned another ball of blue magic, fired it at the orc, and knocked her on her back, leaving her staring helplessly at the sky.
When the orc carrying the child made its way to the totems, he handed the child off to one of the shamans. The shaman lifted the child high in the sky, and all the orcs raised their weapons. The shaman turned and hurled the baby off the cliff as if it had no value at all.
I turned my head as the baby was tossed and muttered, “This is fucked up…” I looked back just in time to see a large flame of fire rise from the Cataclysm.
“For Ergoth!” they cheered again.
I continued to watch in disgust as the shamans tossed two more children off the rift—another baby and a young boy who I’d guess was around twelve years old if orcs aged the same as humans. Both had been chosen by the shamans, and one of the selected parents seemed reluctant to hand them over, while the other gave up her child willingly.
Once all the sacrifices had been made, the shamans spoke a few more words, the onlookers cheered, and eventually the totems faded to dust, and the dust filled in the holes where they had risen from. Once the totems were gone, the shamans rallied the crowd and led them back towards Morgsgorg. A large male orc from the group grabbed the hand of the woman who had been downed earlier, hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her along with everyone else.
“Why do the other orcs follow the shamans? Why would they give their children up like that?” I asked.
“The shamans are advisors to the King and the scholars of the Wastelands,” Rithnar explained. “Few challenge them. It’s impossible to say no.”
“Your wife said no,” I said.
Rithnar huffed. “My wife was stubborn, and that stubbornness got her killed.”
“You’re saying no too,” I added.
Rithnar glared at me. “Maybe I will die too but at least I fight. Running will get me nowhere.”
“They follow because it works,” Mordok interjected. “The sacrifices seem to calm the Gilgaroth temporarily. For a day or two after the sacrifices are made, the Gilgaroth remains quiet.”
I creased my brow as I wondered why and how. Calming ancient beasts by sacrificing children didn’t seem like something that Dr. Winston would have programmed into the world, especially after I heard the story of his own kid. But then again, he was more than willing to kill off—though he didn’t refer to it as ‘killing’—people on Earth to bring them to Eden’s Gate, so perhaps he’d have some twisted justification for the orc sacrifices as well.
“They’ve moved far enough away now that we can continue,” Mordok said. “You should put your hood on, just in case.”
I nodded and flipped the hood of my robe over my head.
We all mounted Moraga, who carried us back to the ground and behind the stone where we had been hiding before. Once we dismounted, Mordok touched the side of Moraga’s wing, nodded, and said, ”You may go now.”
Moraga fluttered its wings, launched into the sky, and zoomed away.
We trekked across the barren ground towards the Cataclysm, keeping our eye out in the direction of the group of orcs. When we reached the Cataclysm, I approached it cautiously and held my hands out to each side for optimal balance as I peered down below.
The distance to the bottom looked to be at least twenty stories or more, and the jagged, uneven opening stretched at least fifteen meters to the other side. It was difficult to make out the bottom of the Cataclysm, but I could see a large pool of lava forming under the volcano, and away from the pool was a sea of brown matter speckled with white and other colors.
We continued walking towards the point where the sacrifices had taken place, and a few meters before reaching there, the tips of a thick wooden ladder protruded an inch from the top edge of the Cataclysm. I wouldn’t have noticed it had Mordok not stopped us and pointed it out.
“This is where we go down,” he said.
Both orcs scanned the area around us to check that none of the other orcs had seen us and that no one was heading our way before starting their descent. Mordok turned and climbed down the ladder, and Rithnar was right behind him.
We were closer to Mount Ardorflame at that point, and I watched as lava poured slowly down its edge and into the Cataclysm. It seemed to settle into a large pool of lava at the bottom, but a small crack in the cataclysm was absorbing some flow and preventing it from filling more of the rift. The pool, however, was long and wide enough to consume a body, or several.
As the two orcs continued to descend, I reached down and grabbed the shoddy-looking ladder. With each step the orcs made, the ladder shook, and it wasn’t clear how it was attached to the cliff face. Ropes were wrapped around several of the ladder rungs, but the ropes didn’t seem bound to anything.
“Should I wait for you guys to get down?” I asked. “It looks unsteady.”
“Come,” Rithnar ordered. “The ladder will hold.”
I took a deep breath, turned, and started my climb down, hoping for the best. The ladder shook and wobbled as I descended, and each time I looked down to get a judge of how far I had climbed and where the next step was, the sight of the long drop made my insides tense. It took about two minutes before the ladder ended, and I released to fall the last few inches onto a flat ledge where Rithnar and Mordok were already standing. It was clear we were nowhere near the bottom.
Directly in front of the ledge was a large, dark cave with unlit torches hanging on either side of the entrance.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s one of the entrances to the Catacombs,” Rithnar said. “It’s the most common area where orcs in the Wastelands go to gain experience and train, though it’s not been getting much use since the Gilgaroth began stirring.”
“We’re not going into the Catacombs,” Mordok said. He motioned his hand to the far end of the ledge where it started sloping and continued downward. “This way.”
I followed the orcs down the dusty stone slope and noticed that stuck to the face of the cataclysm were several giant dog-sized insects. They had multiple bands of hard-looking brown outer shells for backs and eight tiny legs jutting from under their shells. They reminded me of what my grandmother used to call ‘roly polies’ back on Earth.
Name: Wastelands Scavenger Isopod
Race: crustacean
Level: 30
Health/Mana/Stamina: 260/0/150
Status: neutral
None of the isopods were moving, but as we walked, one randomly fell from the wall to right in front of me and curled itself into a ball. Mordok and Rithnar both turned when they heard the sound of its exoskeleton clacking against the ground.
“Wait!” Mordok ordered when he saw me hold my hand out for an attack. He pushed past Rithnar and gently shoved the isopod off the ledge with his foot.
The isopod slipped off easily and clacked against the uneven walls of the rift repeatedly as it fell to the hollow below.
“They won’t attack you,” Mordok explained, “but they put up an aggravating fight if you try to kill them.”
I looked back over the edge. “Pushing it off didn’t kill it?” I turned just as I heard another clacking sound to see another one of the isopods had lost its grip on the wall, clanked against another outcropping, and was falling to the bottom of the Cataclysm.
“Their shell protects them,” Rithnar explained. He motioned towards his axe. “It takes a sharp blade to crack one open.”
“They climb up for sunlight and fall back down to scavenge,” Mordok added. “It’s a normal fall for
them.”
Ahead of us, another one lost or let go of its grip, clacking against stone as it began its long fall.
A loud ear-piercing squawk turned our attention away from the falling isopod, and I instinctively ducked, when I saw a huge dinosaur-like monster flying towards us. It had the head, nose, neck, and wings of a pterodactyl, but its leathery crimson skin seemed to be electrified. Bolts of electricity sprung out of its body, between its wings and the top of its head. Its wingspan was at least three meters wide.
You have failed to inspect your target!
You have failed to inspect your target!
The creature swooped past us, and using its long pointy beak, snapped up one of the isopods clinging to the rock face. Electricity streamed out of the creature and into its prey. As the energy neutralized the isopod, the creature turned and flew across the cataclysm to a large nest made of bones and large twigs perched on an outcropping on the other side. Electricity jutted out of the nest as the creature broke the isopod with its beak and began feeding it to something hidden below the nest’s sides.
“What the hell was that thing?” I asked.
“A thunderbird,” Mordok answered. “Let’s move on. The last thing we need is trouble from one of those beasts.”
We continued until we reached another ladder similar to the first. After descending it, we landed on another ledge with another cave, which I was informed was just another entrance into the Catacombs. The ledge sloped and ran in the opposite direction as the first and eventually ended in yet another ladder.
This ladder hung freely from the ledge, perpendicular to the cliff face, and was secured only by its top rung tied to a couple of sharp rocks with shoddy rope. It looked incredibly dodgy, and as we started to climb down, its constant swaying back and forth made it even more dangerous than it looked.
I could barely hold in my fear as I descended the swaying ladder, which was much longer than the first few we had climbed down. When I reached the end, the edge of the ledge below it ended a little short of allowing me to drop safely, so I had to reach around the ladder and slowly pull myself around until I was climbing on the other side. With a few more inches of room, I was able to safely fall the few feet from where the ladder was hanging, though any drop from there was technically unsafe due to the proximity to the edge.
“We’ll be near the bottom soon,” Rithnar warned.
I brushed my hands together and looked over the ledge, feeling that we had only made it a third or less of the way down. “Are you sure? Looks like we’re still pretty high up.”
“We are, but we’ll be there soon,” Rithnar reiterated.
I tilted my head and creased my brow in confusion.
Seeing my lack of understanding, Mordok clarified with, “The next leg is quite fast.”
I nodded and followed the two orcs as they walked around a sharp corner of stone jutting from the rock face, between a couple of tall, uneven boulders, then skipped to a small but sturdy outcropping below. Another naturally formed ledge was below and in front of the outcropping, but to my dismay the ledge was already occupied. A giant, car-sized spider, the same general shape as a tarantula was perched on a thick white web that was stretched between a rock above the ledge, the wall of the cataclysm, and the area where we were heading. It was brown with yellow spots all over its body, and it slowly rubbed its two front legs together in front of its face. It didn’t seem to notice us, or it had and was patiently waiting for us to make the wrong move.
“Oh, hell no…” I groaned as I took a step back on sight. I immediately pushed myself hard against the wall as my fear of spiders took control. I turned my head from side to side looking for a safe place to run away.
“This is unexpected,” Rithnar said.
“It’s because no one has been coming to the Cataclysm,” Mordok explained. “This is what happens when an area is left idle for too long... someone or something else eventually makes themselves comfortable.”
I looked at the spider again and tried to inspect it.
Name: Wastelands Canyon Spider
Race: arachnid
Level: 31
Health/Mana/Stamina: 190/110/400
Status: aggressive
You have reached level 8 in Inspect!
I turned my gaze to the ground and started shaking my head. “No, no, no, no…” I rattled off. “No one said there’d be spiders.”
The orcs turned to me.
“Are you okay, Gunnar?” Mordok asked. “You look flustered.”
“I fucking hate spiders!” I yelled, but I quickly shut up and took an instinctive step back as the spider twitched, stopped rubbing its legs together, and turned slightly our way.
“Careful,” Rithnar said when he noticed I wasn’t watching where I was stepping.
My foot caught a loose rock and slipped, but I quickly restored my balance as my eyes remained glued to the spider. “Fuck, it sees us,” I spat.
The two orcs turned back around to the spider.
Rithnar unfastened his axe. “Well, we can’t wait for it to come to us,” he said as he started towards it.
Mordok held out his palm, made a circle with his hand, then thrust his hand towards the spider after a globule of energy formed.
The magic energy sped towards the spider, but when it almost reached the spider, the arachnid shuffled across its web so quickly that it almost looked as if it jumped. Any doubt that it wasn’t closely watching us before was erased.
Mordok’s magic grazed the web, tearing through half of the shimmering creation and ripping open a sac of eggs glued to its side. Yellow ooze leaked out and down the web below.
The spider was not amused and immediately scurried towards us as Rithnar stepped onto the ledge that was housing it below.
As the spider moved, it raised its head and ejected what appeared to be a pellet of webbing towards Rithnar. Rithnar ducked the projectile, and it flew past us all and eventually stuck to a rock springing from the wall. The silky webbing dangled from the rock and dripped with some sort of liquid.
Rithnar swung his axe at the spider’s face when he was in range, but the spider rose on its back legs, lifting its face and front legs, avoiding the blow. When it came back down, it struck out with its sharp fangs and Rithnar held out his axe to avoid getting bitten. The spider’s fangs clenched onto the metal of the axe, and the monster pressed its weight onto the orc. Venom poured out of its mouth and caused a stream of mist to rise into the air when it touched Rithnar’s blade.
Mordok released another magic blast, and this time it connected with one of the creature’s front legs, tearing the leg in half and continuing on to do light damage to the creature’s body.
The spider released its grip on Rithnar’s axe, rose onto its four back legs, and let out an ear-piercing shriek.
Seeing an opportunity, Rithnar stepped forward and swung his axe at one of the creature’s back legs, severing it cleanly.
The spider jerked up further, and when another blast from Mordok hit its underside, its belly dropped onto Rithnar. It wasn’t clear if the spider was trying to get away, but it curled its remaining legs inward awkwardly and scuttled sideways at the same time.
Rithnar tumbled under the weight of the spider, and as the spider lost its balance and fell over the side, it quickly attached a strand of webbing which grazed over Rithnar’s body.
The silk strand stretched tightly, and Rithnar was pinned under its weight. He groaned and was about to swing his axe at it when the end of the strand lost its grip on the rock, but not on Rithnar. He was dragged a short distance across the ground by the web and dropped his axe, before Mordok ran for him, jumped forward, and grabbed his arm.
From where I was standing, I could see the spider at the end of the web alternating between curling its legs up and flailing them around. It moved down an inch as it released more silk, bobbing as it did so, causing Rithnar and Mordok to slide until Rithnar was hanging halfway off the edge.
My skin was crawling, bu
t my adrenalin was pumping as I watched the spider move and the two orcs struggling. I leaned over the edge, shot a Fireblast at the spider, but just as I shot it, it released more silk and moved down several more inches, causing my blast to miss.
“Aghhh!” Rithnar groaned as his body was stretched between Mordok and the weight of the spider. He reached his hands out and grabbed the strand, but no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn’t break the silk.
“Help us, Gunnar,” Mordok grumbled, clawing at the ground and reaching his hand out towards me.
I glanced at the spider again, and its remaining legs were moving a little more meticulously and it appeared to be making an effort to pull itself up.
I ran closer to the orcs, ignored Mordok’s hand, and leaned over the edge, to make sure I had the best view of the silk. The spider was moving faster up the strand, but I reached my hand out and shot a Fireblast at it, right below Rithnar’s feet. My Fireblast cut through the strand like butter, and I cringed as the spider curled and fell down into the fissure below.
I stood up and started flipping my arms around and patting my hands all over my body, making sure no crawling things were anywhere on my body as I ran away from the edge. “Ew, ew, ew!” I shivered as the image of the spider’s creepy movements replayed in my head over and over again.
Mordok pulled Rithnar back onto the ledge, and Rithnar peeled what was remaining of the sticky silk strand off of his body.
Rithnar coughed. “I hate spiders.”
“I fucking hate spiders!” I yelled as I shivered again and patted myself down. “Fuck!”
“I don’t hate them as much as you,” Rithnar said.
Mordok started brushing his robe off. “You won’t make it far in the guild with reaction times like that. You’re going to find yourself against much greater opponents if you intend to get a red or even a yellow belt.”