Chapter 7 – The monster rises
SETTING OUT FROM FROSTVALE REFUGE, the caravan is close to the end of the Giant’s Spine. However, this stretch is notorious for being the most dangerous part of the mountains. The locals have nicknamed it “False Victory” passage, after the countless hapless souls who had believed they had escaped the mountains, only to have their hopes dashes. No one knows why, but there is often strange mishaps which occur just as people are passing by. Several of the more famous incidents ranged from the pack animals of a trader’s caravan suddenly going mad, breaking their bonds and fleeing into the mountains, taking with them their cargo and leaving the trader without transport and goods, and he simply froze to death. Another one was with a nobleman passing through. A group of bandits attacked his escort. While bandits are not uncommon in the Giant’s Spine, what made this group unusual was that they were speaking in a completely foreign tongue, not known to any man of Harkon or Arcana. Whoever they were, they managed to overcome the guard, and ritualistically sacrificed the nobleman over a burning cauldron. Despite investigations performed the local guard, no trace of the nobleman, the savages or the escort were ever found. The story was passed on by the only survivor, a member of the escort who fled and watched the whole thing. He was quickly arrested for fleeing and not protecting his lord. Despite the strange happenings around that passage, the region surrounding the passage of false victory is one of the safest regions in the Giant’s Spine mountain chainw. Small villages which have been established in the region make a living by cultivating hardy crops which survive in the sleet and frost. The caravan is now making its way through the passage of False Victory, Jacques taking the lead next to Brahm.
‘Jacques, do you sense any sort of disturbance here? Magical or otherwise?’
‘Harkonians do not use magic or learn it. There shouldn’t be any sort of disturbance in this region, of all places.’
‘I’ve discussed this passage with you at length before. You’ve heard about what has happened along here.’
‘Peasants aren’t the most reliable people for information, Brahm. You should really relax with your superstition.’
‘Jacques. Please, just keep alert. That’s all I’m asking.’ A strange paranoia settles among Brahm’s men as they pass False Victory Passage. Despite Jacques’ rationality, he couldn’t help but feel the same paranoia as well. He tries to concentrate, trying to find any sort of anomaly or disturbance in the area of magical nature. Finding no anomalies at all, Jacques relaxes. Isaac quickly strides up next to him.
‘Do you sense anything, Jacques? Anything at all?’
‘I can sense nothing here which would warrant the bizarre stories the locals have shared. Harkonian superstition, nothing more.’ Although he keeps walking, Jacques notices the caravan slowly coming to a stop. Isaac also stops, and seems to be staring at something.
‘If it is merely superstition, then what is that?!’ Snapping his head to stare where Isaac is pointing, he sees a gigantic furry beast is lying in the passage of the caravan. Since they are using the paths which snakes around the mountain, it completely blocks them. It bears a vague resemblance to a bear, but huge humps bulge out of its gigantic frame along its spine, and strange bony growths erupted from the back of its legs. It does not seem to care particularly about the caravan, merely giving a monstrous yawn and shifting slightly. With extremely light and cautious steps, Jacques approaches the beast to inspect it.
‘It’s... definitely magical in nature. But, I can barely sense it even at this distance. Something in these mountains is cloaking any trace of magic. There is something amiss here, Brahm.’
‘Well, how do we remove this beast from the path then? Is there some sort of magic you can use to make it move?’
‘I’m a magician, not a miracle worker. There’s no telling how heavy this beast might be. If I pushed myself too hard when using magic, I could potentially kill myself.’
‘So what do we do then?’
‘Well, I have noticed that the road here is rather unstable…’
‘Not an option. If we destroyed the road and caused the beast to tumble down the mountain, not only would the path be destroyed, but we could potentially cause an avalanche.’
‘You make a fair point, Brahm. There is one more idea I have. I could get the beast’s attention and lure it down the pathway until we reach a plateau.’
‘Why is it that all of your solutions involve you risking your life to some degree?’
‘Because whatever gods lie in the heavens have decided I must do things the hard way.’ Cautiously approaching it, Brahm unsheathes his sword and pokes the beast gently. It doesn’t respond or even notice, simply giving another yawn and rolling around until it becomes comfortable again. Brahm pokes it again with a bit more force, and still it pays him no attention.
‘Its hide is thick. I am not sure that we could kill this beast if we wished to.’
‘Even the greatest fortress has its weakpoints.’ Before Brahm can stop him, Jacques climbs up the mangy animal’s back, and drops in front of its monstrous face. Almost retching from the creature’s foul breath, Jacques takes a moment to steel himself. When he finally gathers his courage, he pulls back the eyelids of one of the great beast’s eyes. Jacques punches the beast in its soft and vulnerable eye, causing it to suddenly rise up from its resting place, howling in pain. Quickly losing his footing, Jacques tumbles off its head quickly and falls into the snow. With its one uninjured eye, the great beast glares accusingly at its tormentor. It raises its gargantuan paws high and slams them down into the snow, barely missing a scrambling Jacques. Fortunately, the billowing snow gives Jacques a chance to escape the beast’s vision for a moment, enabling him to put some distance between it and himself. Once the beast sees him fleeing, it gives a mighty roar, shaking the very earth beneath it. With little regard to its own safety, the beast clumsily gives chase to Jacques, barely holding its footing along the icy mountain trail. Brahm simply shakes his head.
‘And somehow, he’ll still pull out alive at the end of the day. The man must be invincible.’
“Shouldn’t we help him or something?’ Isaac chimes in.
‘What exactly can we do? He purposely lured that beast so we might continue along this road. All we can do, as ever, is hope they he doesn’t kill himself in the process.’
Brahm’s words ring true once again, as a fleeing Jacques desperately avoids death time and time again as the enraged monster attempts to crush him beneath its great paws. He could feel a slight aura of magic around it. His currently theory of its existence is magical tampering with the native species of these mountains, which were already fearsome predators to begin with. What makes him wonder is who would be practicing magic in these remote regions of Harkon. Magic is not a common craft or skill in Harkon, so the people who would be experimenting here would have to be either travellers from Arcana or natives of Harkon who had learned the craft by other means. However, this is irrelevant to Jacques right now as he barely manages to keep away from his impending doom. Unable to keep up his quickened pace, Jacques searches desperately for something which could distract the angry beast behind him. Soon, his luck holds out once again. Across the great tundras, he sees a huge frozen lake. Winter never ended in these mountains, so the ice would be thick enough to support his own weight. No amount of ice, however, would be great enough to support the beast’s weight. Once again placing his trust in his own luck, Jacques begins making one final dash for the lake. The beast, too enraged to see the impending danger ahead, continues to pursue Jacques, each mighty bound it makes over the landscape causing the earth to groan beneath it. Thankfully, Jacques arrives at the lake and its ice is more than thick enough to support his weight. His biggest problem now, however, is that he has to move fast enough over the ice in order to escape the beast. Jacques leaps through the air and does a slide over the ice. Just as he leaps, so does the monstrous animal pursuing him, almost landing directly on top of him. The ice splits open and dr
ags both man and beast into the icy waters. Thrashing about, the beast roars defiantly, but futilely. It can’t swim, and Jacques has spent most of his energy during the pursuit across the tundras. Weakly pulling himself onto the now shattered ice sheet, Jacques crawls his way back towards the shores of the lake. Once he is out of the freezing cold waters, he takes a moment to lie there, shivering and exhausted. After a moment, he pulls himself up slowly, feeling his teeth chatter and clack together. He sees the caravan moving slowly in the distance, and a small detachment of Brahm’s troops moving toward him.
‘So, any theories on what that beast might’ve been, Jacques?’
‘None. All I know is that it’s been tampered with, altered by magic or some other means.’
‘Then those tales told by the villagers must have some degree of merit.’
‘I thought Arcana was a mysterious place, but Harkon has mysteries and secrets too. I can’t produce any theory right now. There’s not even any traces of magic in these mountains which I can sense. The only magic I have noticed was on that beast, and even then I had to concentrate greatly to even notice it.’
‘Well, we can’t afford to dwell on this. We have to get out of these mountains as soon as possible.’
‘Wait, hold up here.’ Curious as to what Jacques is up to, he signals the caravan to stop. Despite still being chilled from the lake’s icy waters, Jacques leaps out of the carriage and scuttles towards a series of crumbling stones. Ancient writing is etched into the surface of each individual stone, though the writing is so ancient that their meaning has long since been lost to time. Inspecting it further, Jacques notices strangely laid patterns formed from gathered stones. Each one had exactly ten stones in them, and the symbols they form bear no resemblance to anything Jacques had seen before. Pulling himself higher in order to get a top down view of the formations, he sees they form elaborate cross shaped patterns. Brahm and Isaac manage to catch up to him, and see the formations as well.
‘What are these, Jacques? This seems like some sort of witchcraft.’
‘I felt something. I do not know what, but there is something abnormal at work here. These patterns are somehow linked to it.’ Choosing to explore the site further, Jacques comes up to a small hill with a crypt sitting on top of it. Its gigantic stone doors are just wide enough for a single man to slip through.
‘Jacques, we shouldn’t be wasting time here. Our goal is to reach Greatspire Castle, not to wander around ancient tombs.’
‘It’s not something I haven’t done before. Brahm, I must investigate this site. There is something here that is familiar to me. If it is what I think it is, then grave danger.’
‘What could be here which could put an entire country in danger?’
‘The darkness which sought to consume me.’ While Brahm was cynical, he could see Jacques is deeply disturbed by whatever is here. Reluctantly, he agrees to allow him to stay.
‘Alright. I can see you’re worried, and you haven’t been wrong about these sorts of things before. You’ve only recently had quite an ordeal, however. If you insist on entering, I will not allow you to go alone. I will go as well.’ Emotionlessly, Brahm gathers his weapons, and bids his men to set up camp.
‘We will not be long. Once Jacques and I finish our investigation, we will return as soon as possible.’
Both men slide across the cold stone, greeted by the foul smell of rotting meat. Gagging, Brahm curses quietly.
‘I thought this grave to be ancient. Surely the stench of the dead would be long gone from this accursed place!’
‘That smell means that there aren’t only ancient corpses in this place.’ Jacques quickens his pace, and whispers quiet words to create a light globe. Light spread throughout the tomb, illuminating coffins neatly bundled into square slots in the walls. Continuing on, Jacques shares his thoughts.
‘Light has not visited this place for a very long time. However, someone else has.’ He points at the ground, which has a series of distinct footprints in the ancient dust and dirt of the tomb, leading towards the back of the structure.
‘That’s more than a little suspicious.’ Jacques says, kneeling down to inspect the footprints.
‘What would you say, Brahm? Are these recent?’
‘These footprints are the most recent, and they’re leaving. I can’t see any footprints going back in, so I think it is safe to presume that whoever was here has long moved on.’
‘I felt something here. They must have left something behind.’ Unable to suppress the rising feeling of dread within him, Jacques move deeper inside the tomb, drawn towards the inky blackness. His light seems to be consumed more and more as he goes deeper in. Soon, the blackness is so thick that he could cut at it with his blade. Brahm is managing to stay close to him and his source of light. In time, another light could be seen in the darkness. It glows a gentle blue, and Jacques seems entranced as he comes closer to it, step by step. Soon, Brahm can see that the light is bleeding out of a room. Without the slightest hesitation, Jacques slips into the room.
‘Jacques! Please be cautious!’ Brahm tries to call after him, but it is as though his friend is possessed. Seeming as though he did not hear Brahm at all, Jacques continues on.
‘I swear, Arcanian!’ Brahm loudly grumbles as he pursues him. When Brahm steps into the room, he is not prepared for what he will see. The room opens up to a gigantic cave, and in the middle of it, a gigantic pillar carved from obsidian glows sinisterly. Jacques stands alone, blankly gazing at the pulsing object. Afraid of what they have found, Brahm immediately tries to gain answers.
‘Jacques! Talk to me! What is this?’ His face completely devoid of emotion, save fear, Jacques speaks like he is in another place completely, far away from Brahm and this cavern.
‘It is just like the pillar those wild men had been using. It’s an eldritch pillar, and it seems as though it has been constructed recently. I thought that the knowledge was long lost, but it seems not.’
‘If this is an “eldritch pillar”, what is it doing in Harkon?’
‘It is happening. It is finally making its move. I can feel it swirling around inside that pillar.’
‘Feel what?! Tell me, Jacques.’
‘The darkness beneath the mountain. It is finally began to spread. Life will either be assimilated or it will die beneath its touch. This, my dear Brahm, is the end of everything as we know it. It will destroy everything our kingdoms have built, and consume the very land beneath it in its wake.’ Finally losing his patience, he seized Jacques by his weather-beaten robe and shakes him wildly. While it snaps Jacques out of his trance, it leaves him slightly dizzy.
‘Damn it, Jacques. This is not the time to give up. Snap out of it, and let’s start thinking of a plan. How do we destroy this thing?’ Pulling himself up slowly, Jacques rubs his jaw for a moment, before answering a desperate Brahm.
‘We can’t destroy the darkness inside it. But, we can destroy the pillar itself. It will at least slow it down.’
‘Then how? Tell me, how?’
‘If we can just crack its surface, it should be enough to allow us to break it. Don’t you still have that old war hammer of yours?’
‘I think my troops are still carrying it, yes.’
‘Then we need it, immediately. I hope that you have a strong swing with it still.’
So, after returning to camp, the pair quickly find his hammer and return to the tombs. Brahm’s troops and Isaac could see the pair are worried, but none of them try to inquire as to why.
With his great hammer in his hands, Brahm begins hammering blows upon the pillar’s surface. It takes several minutes, but it starts to crack underneath the might of his blows. He does not stop once, swinging again and again and again, until he hears the sound of stone splitting. The weakened structure collapses beneath the blow, and the group barely avoid the falling obsidian raining down on them. It stops glowing, and soon the atmosphere grows silent.
Beneath a brilliant night sky, Brahm and Jacques br
ood quietly to themselves. Inquisitive as to what happened inside the tombs, Isaac attempts to probe them into telling him something. He is largely unsuccessful though, since the two men seemingly ignore him. Lacking any chance at all to learn what happened, he decides to discuss it among Brahm’s troops.
‘What was in there?’ He asks curiously among them.
‘Brahm would not tell us anything. That is not like him.’ Curious about what would spook Brahm enough to even not tell his men of it, Isaac decided to be a bit more blunt in his approach. He can see, however, that Brahm seems fearful. He is purposely isolating himself from the other men, brooding on his own thoughts. So, he decides to try his luck with Jacques. After searching around, he finds Jacques sitting on a rocky outcrop, looking across the land.
‘Jacques. What was in there? What has you and Brahm so afraid?’
‘Forever the curious scholar, aren’t you? I suppose I cannot hide it from you, Isaac. We found a dangerous artifact in there, a pillar radiating darkness. And it was recently constructed too. Such knowledge was supposed to have been long lost...’
‘So, what does that mean?’
‘It means the shadow beneath the mountain is now able to spread beyond its original domain. Death will sweep over the land once enough pillars have been raised.’
‘Who is building these artifacts?’
‘I am going to guess the cultists I had witnessed back in my youth. They have probably have had years to build more of those pillars. What they hope to gain from an entity which will eventually betray them, I do not understand. Do you understand why we are so worried now? The end of days is being engineered at this very moment.’
‘If that’s so...’
‘No more, Isaac. Leave me to my thoughts.’ Being dismissed so bluntly, Isaac shrugs and walks away. Tensions would probably improve once they get back on the road. They have nearly exited the Giant’s Spine. They should be at the base of the mountain in two days.
Soon, the air becomes sweet and heavy with the smell of a fresh harvest. The biting cold and howling winds cease, much to Jacques’ delight. He wastes no time in removing the thick layer of frozen fur, revealing his battered traveller’s robe.
‘I do not care how long it would take me, I am going to travel around that mountain next time.’
‘Surely it was not that horrid an experience, Jacques!’
‘Well, I fell down a ravine, got attacked by ravenous beasts, and endured frozen winds and snow...’
‘See? It wasn’t so bad!’ Brahm exclaims, then shares a laugh with his men. Jacques knows that Brahm’s casual mockery helped keep the mood of his troops good, so he didn’t bother trying to argue. Isaac seems a lot less battered by their recent mishaps. Peasants were out in large fields of crops, enjoying the warmth of the summer evening. A few of them look up at the caravan, with Brahm leading it. They quickly went back to their crops after an idle look.
‘It seems the peasants are fairly disinterested in us.’ Jacques observes.
‘Odd. It is as though making it through the mountains alive isn’t worthy of their attention.’
‘Perhaps they should be made to make a trip along this path then. Broadening perspectives can do much for people.’
‘There’s much weight in those words when they come from you, Jacques.’
‘I’m not the only one whose perspective has been widened in this caravan, Brahm. You and Isaac both have opened your eyes to many possibilities.’
‘It’s merely the passage of time and accumulation of experiences. We look at things differently as the days, weeks, months and years pass.’
‘How do you think Isaac has handled himself during this adventure?’
‘He does not seem particularly distressed about leaving behind his home and cottage. He has carried his weight as well as anyone in this caravan. He could make a fine soldier if he had the proper training. That superstition about the ghosts of ancestors seemed to be the main problem, and you’ve absolved him of that.’
‘Being out of reach of his father has done him much good as well. That man has essentially used him as a willing slave.’
‘Brahm. I know we’ve been avoiding it, but we need to talk about what is coming.’ With great reluctance, Brahm agrees.
‘As much as I do not wish to, you are right. But, I wish to understand this darkness. What is it, exactly?’
‘If I could tell you, I would. When it touched my mind, I only caught vague glimpses of its true form. What I saw... I cannot even begin to describe it to you. It is angry, and it has no love for us. It does not exist in the same manner which we do, and is restricted by rules which we cannot understand.’
‘So, how do we fight this then? How can we stop it?’
‘I do not know. I am just as helpless before this as you are. The wizard had told me that I would understand what I should do when I had to do it. But, I’ve grown old over these years. I am not sure if I am still capable of doing what needs to be done.’
‘We cannot give up Jacques. You said yourself that this darkness would be the end of both of our kingdoms. What if it simply does not settle for those kingdoms? What if it chooses to spread beyond these lands? Who could stop it?’
‘Once something of that magnitude builds up momentum, I doubt any force in this world would be capable of stopping it.’
They stop talking as soon as Isaac comes within earshot of them.
‘So, how far away are we from the castle now?’ An inquisitive Isaac asks the pair.
‘We’re not that far at all, Isaac! After another day or two of traveling, we should reach the capital.’
‘Excellent. We should have a bit of time for some chronicle writing.’
‘If you can write while we walk, sure.’
‘Go ahead then! It may be a little less neat, but I’m sure we can fix it later.’
Arcana: A recollection Page 20