Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  “You would be hard-pressed to do that, warrior,” the Demon responded. Its ghostly form appeared before Bladeborn in the rock tube. “I have a bargain for you, one that affects your people… Respect the truce and speak with me, and perhaps I’ll call off my trolls. You will save some of the lives of your people. Otherwise, all of them will die!” The creature’s red, bloodshot eyes flashed when it said this.

  “I’m sure you have many tricks at your disposal, beast, but do not try them on me... I will not tolerate it.” Bladeborn cut at the space between them with Nightslayer. “Call off the attacks on my people. I’ll hear your offer.”

  In the brief time Bladeborn had been speaking, the beast’s head and arm had nearly healed. Like Bladeborn, it had some way to regenerate from injuries, but this magic was much stronger than Bladeborn’s.

  The troll spoke within Bladeborn’s mind, “You are demanding and presumptuous, warrior, but strong. Yes, very strong. I did not attack you and your people merely for food…There is something that can save you. Let me tell you of myself. I am the first darkling troll. THE FIRST! My history as a great nemesis of the living goes back thousands of years to a time on Foresti when my people were strong enough to bring the Elves of that world to their knees. If not for the interference of their accursed god, WE would control that planet now. Take heed of this—the darkling trolls and I, their master, are not to be trifled with. For the moment, you have matched me, although I believe it would take little to wear you down.”

  The Darkling Troll came a bit closer to Bladeborn, saying in its eerie voice, “Let me tell you of my enemy, the one who nags at my rule. There is the Judge of the Dead, the Demi-god who weighs souls of those who live no more. His awareness extends into this dimension which you are in, and he will see me if I come close to him, for as a Demon lord I am always half in both worlds. He is fully in both worlds, but with stealth, or by his mercy, you will be able to approach and STEAL his hammer for me. This will enable me to protect my trolls from him, and give them the power to roam with more freedom in this underground place we call home.”

  Bladeborn spoke: “I do not wish to do this for you, beast. The Judge of the Dead is a god-like. I will have no way to do this…”

  “I have told you how!” The ghost troll screeched. “Through stealth or by his mercy! Your chance to retrieve the hammer is good!”

  Bladeborn winced at the painful sound of anger the Demon-troll made, and he said, “How can I hope to…”

  “It is a SIMPLE task, if you will listen!” the creature raged. “I know that you flee the Rhinolon with your tribe. I also know that you will never arrive on the human continent with your tribe, not one of you, if you do not take up this task for me. If you do it, I will leave your people alone, and no other creature of the world below Draconia will harm them. Your limited knowledge of the powers Death has at his disposal will aid you in this task. I believe he can be tricked, he can be defeated. If there any can do it, you can. If there has ever been a mortal who could defeat Death, or somehow gain possession of his hammer through subterfuge, you are the one. I know the way to the city where he rules, for I STOLE THE MAPS OF ADEN your Dwarven ally, Telunk the Priest used to navigate the underworld with. I will return the Maps in exchange for the hammer as well as allowing them their lives.”

  Bladeborn hated bargaining with this Demon, for he knew it would betray him the moment it could. He wondered what power the Demon lord would gain if it had possession of the hammer of the Judge of the Dead.

  However, he could not think now…It felt like a thick layer of burlap was laid over his mind, and his thoughts were clouded. Bladeborn read that just being near some of the most powerful Demons was draining to humans.

  Bladeborn asked the Sword, “Nightslayer... What should I do? I need your strength!”

  ~~Accept the bargain for now, Bladeborn!~~ Nightslayer said, ~~ There is no other choice!~~

  Bladeborn said, “Beast! I will listen further.”

  The beast explained, “I will guide you to the door, then beyond Draconia through realms unknown, to the Greater City of the Dead, which ONLY I can find with the Maps. There you will enter the dome where he keeps it. You will need to trick the Judge to lift the hammer. But I know you have a sack that can contain it. You must get it into the sack. You can do it. Then you will need all your wits to get back.”

  “First, I wish to know what you are. What kind of creature are you?” Bladeborn said.

  “I am Veextra, Demon lord of the deep trolls. Some have called us Darkling Trolls, and others have called us the Eaters Who Will Not Die. I lead several thousand of my kind here in the center of Draconia, but we have travelled across the solar reach over the centuries through paths only known to us. All trolls, from those in the depths of the Abyss, to those in the freezing Hells pay homage to me...”

  “Take me to my people now, so I may be sure they are safe!” Bladeborn ordered.

  “Enter the other world so I can transport you through the rock...” Bladeborn did so, and there was a moment of... Drifting... Weightless, with no up or down... The one that called itself Veextra was moving Bladeborn across a vast distance. When the Demon finished, it spoke again in Bladeborn’s mind, “I give you three days to decide. Return to your world, now. I will come for you.”

  Bladeborn found himself in a side-passage by the people of the Realms. He could hear weeping and cries of pain. He entered the light of his people’s glow-globes right where young King Lauren lay, recovering from several wounds. Bladeborn rushed to his side.

  “Bladeborn, you live!” King Lauren declared. The Elves, Dwarves, and humans saw Bladeborn and crowded around, in silence. “We thought you had been killed, or gotten lost! King Rosen and King Dale are farther up--many of died defending them! So many have been taken! Are you… Are you… All right?”

  “Be heartened, young King,” Bladeborn said. King Lauren’s wounds did not look fatal, but it was obvious that the young man had fought bravely. “You have made a truly great showing as a warrior.”

  “Bladeborn,” King Lauren said, coughing up a bit of foamy blood, “I must rest! I'm sorry... I—”

  “I will heal you, King Lauren,” Bladeborn said softly, and he used his strength to speed the wounds to closure. Lauren would live… but how long? What chance did any of them have now?

  “Where’s that Dwarf with the maps?” Bladeborn asked, hoping that Veextra had lied and they had not lost them.

  A Dwarven miner-cleric said, “A great tragedy occurred yesterday, Bladeborn. The cleric with the map was taken by the trolls. By now he is surely dead.”

  Taylon, the Elven Knight, ran to Bladeborn and pushed through the crowd. Talon’s armor was in tatters and he bled from several injuries. Taylon said, “Bladeborn, they took the Priest with the maps! It is our old Enemy, the Darkling Trolls! They are a cunning and ancient race, evil beyond measure! Yet they stopped attacking, and there has been no sign of them since.”

  “How long have I been gone?” Bladeborn asked.

  “More than three hours since their initial attack, General,” a human soldier said. “General, you are badly wounded. You look like you need rest. Sit down and we will say a prayer to Saint Morth.”

  The crowd parted as the dragon approached, saying in the dragon language, “Your return is a great relief, Bladeborn!” Spe got very close to Bladeborn, the size of a thorn-cat. Spe said, “When you disappeared, I thought it meant your attempt to get these people through the world would be unsuccessful. Now there is hope again.”

  The soldier who had asked Bladeborn to pray kept his eye on the dragon, but leaned in close to Bladeborn, saying, “King Rosen is afraid to face you, Bladeborn. He feels he has doomed his people. Many blame you for leading them to their deaths!”

  Bladeborn heaved a huge sigh.

  King Rosen arrived a moment later. “Bladeborn, I fear this is where it will all end.”

  Bladeborn explained, “Do NOT give up hope, King Rosen! I’m working on a deal with the lea
der of these trolls. We can survive if the deal can be done. I will try to make the angry men understand this, without incident. I am to meet again with this King of trolls in three days. While I’m here this creature claims that we will not be attacked again. I will rest. I must rest. After I leave, the column will move on, Map or no. I will try to come back with the Maps. But we are close now, King Rosen, very close...”

  Bladeborn didn’t know how close they were, but he had to try to get them out of the chaos he had led them into.

  King Rosen nodded in understanding.

  With the loyal soldiers and many others, Bladeborn and an aged Priest held a Prayer service to Saint Morth for some way to protect the people from the trolls. In his prayer, Bladeborn vowed that in the new land he would build a grand cathedral to Saint Morth if they were delivered to the yellow sun side of the world. He knew of nothing to keep the else to trolls at bay.

  Bladeborn spent a day healing those who had fought so bravely and could still be saved. During that time, King Rosen and King Dale managed to calm the men, some of whom wished to break away from the camp. King Blair spoke to them with attitude of resilience.

  “Cousin, we have tried,” King Blair said to King Rosen. “If this is where it is all to end, after two millennia hiding from the Rhinolon, then we must face our fates standing up. I have lived a to a ripe old age, and I will go proudly before the Judge of the Dead.”

  Then, Bladeborn rested for a day, meditating with Nightslayer in his lap, building Essence and protective powers against the strength of Veextra.

  ~~Veextra is a great Lord of the abyss, Bladeborn~~ Nightslayer said. ~~ You must take me to the surface! Leave these people and go down the corridor, bringing the dragon with you. I do not wish to be lost here, beneath the world, for an age!~~

  Bladeborn ignored Nightslayer’s council. The Sword seemed to have given up before the battle was joined. It was extremely disheartening.

  “Nightslayer, you have always tried to bolster my confidence! Why do you fail me now?”

  ~~There is no way to win! You cannot stand against Veextra. You cannot defeat the Judge of the Dead. If you leave these others and run now, you may survive. Otherwise, I will be captured by this Demon Lord or worse, be lost beneath Draconia~~

  “There is ALWAYS hope, Nightslayer!” Bladeborn said. “I will ignore your council!”

  The Sword remained silent.

  During meditation with Nightslayer, Bladeborn had a vision of a people far from where he was now. The people he saw were not like those of the Realms. It could only have been a vision created by Nightslayer, and upon awakening from it, Bladeborn felt disturbed. It was as if the Sword of the Ancients was trying to use Bladeborn’s dreams to make him leave his chosen people in the clutches the trolls.

  “Nightslayer, I had an odd vision while I slept. Do you know anything of it?”

  The Sword remained silent.

  Bladeborn had decided. As impossible as it seemed, there was no other way to succeed besides stealing the hammer from the Judge of the Dead, as Veextra asked.

  On the third day Bladeborn went down a side-passage and called Veextra’s name. The ghostly form of the Demon Lord materialized from the rock. “Enter the other world now, and we will travel to the door that leads into the Greater City of the Dead There, you will complete my task...”

  Chapter 26: The Greater City of the Dead

  Bladeborn and Veextra went back to the cave of skulls and vines. Veextra unfolded the map and said, “These maps have become my property until I get the hammer!” The Demon Lord laughed evilly. “With such a tool, ANY place can be found!”

  “You cannot keep them,” Bladeborn declared. “They belong to us! Keep you part of the bargain!”

  Once again, Veextra laughed, “Yes, the ‘bargain.’ Mortal, grab my arm and free your mind…”

  In moments, they stood on a ledge overlooking an underground cavern many miles across, all lit by an eerie, green light. Bladeborn beheld a massive walled city with thousands of stark, bone-white buildings. A high wall, also like bleached bone, surrounded the city. It was the legendary Greater City of the Dead, where every soul in the solar reach went to be measured by the Judge of the Dead.

  Veextra spoke, still within Bladeborn’s mind. “You must find your way to its center. Do not listen to the voices of the lost souls or let them distract you from your task. If they cannot see you, they cannot harm you. Go secretly into the dome. Inside you will find Death’s great hammer. You may have to face Death to get it.”

  Bladeborn said, “Although I know that I must do so, I still don’t understand how you expect me to retrieve the hammer.”

  “I know you can transform into a hawk,” Veextra intoned, “YOU bear the Sword of the Ancients—an otherworldly weapon of such power that most any being, god or Demon, would envy. As well, you have—other gifts—ones that I am aware of. I know the age of your soul, Bladeborn, and how your people ‘cheated’ death. Cheat death again, bring me his weapon, and I will let your people live on! Use what you know! Do not ask how!”

  “What will you do with the hammer?” Bladeborn questioned, but Veextra didn’t answer.

  “You cannot fail or your people will die,” Veextra threatened. “And do not think of betraying me, for I can instantly put you in so much pain as to render you helpless!” As a demonstration of power, the Demon troll jabbed into Bladeborn’s mind with enormous force of Essence.

  Bladeborn doubled over in pain and fell to his knees. All that kept him from going unconscious was the warmth he gained from his grip on Nightslayer.

  The King of the darkling trolls chuckled. “Now mortal, make note of where we are. Once you have the Hammer bring it to me here! Call my name and I will come. And just remember: I will stand for nothing but complete success! Go!” With that, the ghostly troll vanished into the rocky face.

  Bladeborn climbed down the barren stone toward the forlorn city. He was not hopeful about what he had to do, yet he was not despairing, either. He just went on, with the throbbing in his skull that came from the Demon troll’s last attack lessening.

  The massive city lay up ahead. Its walls arose from the enormous cavern’s darkness with a freezing whiteness.

  Beginning on the horizon were thousands of trails of mist, and looking back toward where he had come from he saw the mist was all around him. He went onward, keeping an eye on the mist, which had begun to form into human-like shapes with a slightly greenish tint. The figures became more substantial as he neared the city. They stumbled and shambled and whispered a lonely speech that became like the sound of shifting winds. As Veextra had warned, Bladeborn tried not to listen.

  The mist formed into the innumerable shapes of the recently dead. They were all around Bladeborn now, slowly and listlessly moving toward one of the massive gateways. Apparently, they were outfitted as they had been when they died. Some appeared to be the very aged, whereas others were likely dead from wounds they had received on a faraway battlefield.

  ...Here was an Elf with a nightshirt on, and the gray outline of his figure was wrinkled and toothless. ...There was a huge Rhinolon warrior, with an axe wound on its head, perhaps received in the gladiator’s pit… Here was a Dwarf, missing an arm…and here was an aged human with the look of one who had died of a plague.

  All the dead had blank, empty eyes, whether human or ogre, Dwarf, Elf, Rhinolon, or other. So many! They drifted toward the gate in the City of the Dead where their souls would be judged.

  The city walls seemed to be carved from bone or somehow composed of one massive bone, perhaps part of the spinal column of an unimaginably large creature. The nearest gate, capped with an enormous skull, had scores of the dead moving toward it. Bladeborn fell in with them, trying not to meet them. As he got closer, he could see the gate was covered with elaborate details scratched from the bone-material. The carvings were of skulls, skeletons, weapons, beasts, and images seeming to define endless varieties of ways to die.

  The gates were crowded. T
he substance of the misty, greenish forms of the dead made Bladeborn feel a chill. So closely packed were they, he could not help crossing paths with the creatures. Fortunately, they paid him no attention. He passed under the carved bone gate, which stood forty feet above him. It was seemingly unguarded but the portcullis and doors looked well-built. The gate would likely withstand any assault imaginable when closed.

  Inside the city were many buildings, all made of chalky stone and some other material resembling both wood and bone. Many leaned at weird angles, looking incredibly old and mournful. The buildings were arranged so that the streets were narrow and twisting. The dead all seemed to know their destinations, but Bladeborn was quickly lost.

  He wandered the maze, looking for some sort of central structure, sharing the streets with the dead. He walked for hours, but all the streets seemed to lead nowhere, just to more of the shabby, leaning buildings. He entered one of the tall, chalky structures. More dead stood within, aimless and waiting. Bladeborn guessed that each would be judged in time.

  To his surprise, Bladeborn saw many greenish weapons that glowed and shimmered like the stuff of souls. He shuddered to think what the weapons were for. In each building, there were more racks of the ghost-weapons.

  Frustrated because he was lost in the streets, Bladeborn used a large portion of his psychic Essence to change his shape into his hawk-form. He got a much better look at the city, and could spot his goal quickly—the dome at the center of the city.

  It was a half-globe structure surrounded by large, high towers. He flew toward it as fast as he could, for he was able to hold the hawk form only moments. The dome was huge, and Bladeborn thought, “How do I get in? Where will this hammer be?”

  Using a vast amount of Essence to continue as a hawk, he felt drained, but soon he was over the top of what was half of a massive, coffered dome. Its shiny surface seemed to absorb all light. At the very top was a small opening, and no other openings or gates were apparent. Bladeborn glided silently in.