KINGS AND QUEENS
The House of a Hundred Doors, as Irovetti’s palace was known, was a sprawling, single-story structure that sat atop a hill in the Shattered Ward. Its roofline was a crazy tangle of slopes, domes and pitches, and its walls were made of thick, iron-reinforced stone. The main drive wound to a pair of massive front doors, but Mox led her companions up a service road to a pair of iron portals on the far side of the castle. At the vanguard of the party was the animated corpse of the shambler. At Mox’s command, it threw open the doors, revealing a wide passage, the walls of which were angled inward, with arrow slits on either side. A heavy portcullis blocked the corridor some twenty feet in, and a second one was lowered another twenty feet beyond that.
‘Irovetti,’ Velox sent his thoughts silently into the depths of the keep. ‘If you can hear me, I must warn you that my Queen is coming for you, and only your death will satisfy. Surrender now if you have any hope of mercy.’
The reply was terse, and to the point, ‘Only one sovereign shall die this day, and it will not be the Lord of Pitax!’
Mox nodded, and the shambler lumbered down the hallway. When it reached the first portcullis, it wrapped its hands and tentacles through the bars and began to pull. Suddenly, sound and fury erupted from the arrow slits on both sides as a barrage of sonic blasts battered the walking corpse.
“Damn it!” Mox cursed. “Get out of there, you worthless midden heap! Selena, come with me!”
The Queen rose into the air and to the rooftop, the witch right behind her. As the shambler backed clumsily out of the hallway, a second round of blasts struck it, blowing great chunks of its rotten hide from its body. When Mox reached the roof, she wove a spell and instantly melted a large hole through the stone, revealing the narrow passage behind one side of the murder holes below. Six Pitax heralds gaped up at her in surprise, but they quickly gathered their wits about them and, using their voices to channel their magic, hurled bursts of pure sound at the two sorceresses. At the same time, Selena hexed the nearest of the heralds, putting him instantly to sleep, but in that moment, the sonic blast struck her, and sent her reeling.
As Selena tumbled from the roof, and the Shambler came staggering out of the corridor, Davrim made his move. He darted into the hall and made a dash for the portcullis, but before he could make it half-way, another bombardment of sound and fury assaulted him, forcing him to retreat before he lost consciousness.
“Bah!” Tungdill roared. “This is embarrassin’! Lemme show ya how it’s done!”
The druid began chanting, switching a sprig of mistletoe around him. Twin orbs of light formed inside the corridor, one on each side of the far portcullis. In seconds, the orbs coalesced into a pair of two-headed giants…ettins! One of them seized the near portcullis and began working at lifting the massive gate. The other threw open a pair of doors at the far end of the hall, past the second gate. Standing immediately on the other side was a massive troll dressed in full plate armor and carrying massive battleaxes in each hand. Behind the troll stood a second one, just as big and twice as ugly. Arrayed behind that one was a phalanx of six wardens led by another herald. The ettin’s twin heads let loose thunderous roars of challenge at the troll, and the troll answered, roaring into the ettin’s faces, their noses inches from one another.
Davrim used the momentary distraction to rush under the first portcullis and onto the second one. This time, as his gauntleted hand touched the iron bars, it flared brightly, and the metal rusted instantaneously in his grasp, leaving a large hole behind. Stevhan moved up behind him and fired a volley of precisely aimed arrows, past both ettins, past both trolls, and impaled one of the wardens, dropping him in his tracks. Selena, still shaky from her fall and her ears still ringing from the sonic assault, moved into the corridor behind the two warriors. She wove her hands in an intricate pattern, and a bolt of lightning arced from her fingers into the troll standing in the doorway. The bolt then arced to the next troll, then to the herald, and then to each of the wardens in turn.
Velox joined Mox on the rooftop, lifting himself into the air on a divine wind. He moved past the sorceress and dropped through the hole she’d made, landing inside the narrow hallway below. The nearest of the heralds went for the rapier at his belt, but the oracle dropped him with a vicious slash of his blade. He then turned to face the remaining four, a wicked gleam in his eye.
Back outside, Tungdill cast another summoning, this time calling a pair of cyclopes to his side.
“Wait here just a sec, boys,” he commanded. “It ain’t gonna be safe in there for a few minutes.”
The druid began another spell, and in the room at the far end of the hall, a strong wind began to blow. Within seconds, it had whipped into a superheated vortex…a sirocco. The strength of the wind was such that it knocked one of the trolls prone, and threw the wardens around like stick men. The herald was flung into a wall so hard that his neck snapped. The wardens struggled to their feet and ran from the room through a door on the far side. Incredibly, the troll climbed back to his feet, his brother at his side. The pair of them then brought their axes to bear against the ettin blocking the main door, cutting the giant down with a series of vicious chops. It vanished into thin air before it hit the floor. The first troll then stepped into the hallway, only to run up against Davrim. The inquisitor raised his sword in both hands over his head and brought it down in a vicious chop. As the giant staggered back a step, Davrim struck again, pressing his attack, but then the second troll began pushing forward…until a crack shot from Stevhan’s bow pierced its eye and sent it howling back into the sirocco. A moment later, Tungdill forced the first one back in as well with a giant fist conjured out of pure water.
Velox continued to battle through the heralds, felling another one beneath his blade. Mox dropped into the hole behind him and fixed her gaze upon one of the retreating heralds.
“Your mind now belongs to me!” she commanded.
The wide-eyed man nodded, slack-jawed.
“Spare this one, Velox,” Mox said. “Tell me your name, herald!”
“Harold, my Lady,” the man said.
“Harold…the herald??” Mox asked, quirking one eyebrow.
“Yes ma’am!” he nodded.
“Whatever,” Mox shook her head. “Take me to the throne room. I would speak with your king.”
“Yes ma’am,” Harold said. “Just follow me!”
Tungdill’s remaining ettin pushed its way through the hole Davrim had created in the portcullis and into the far room. As it did, however, one of the trolls stepped up and tagged him with a blow from its axe, sending one of the ettin’s clubs spinning away. Davrim and Stevhan tried to drive the troll back further with arrows, but the brute refused to budge, cyclonic whirlwind or not. In the mean time, the wardens on the far side of the storm brought their own bows to bear, leveling shots at the ettin. Tungdill was forced to dispel the sirocco so that his friends could push forward. The ettin took advantage, and charged in…straight into the whirling blades of the trolls. The pair cut the giant to ribbons in a matter of seconds, and it vanished like its brother before.
Mox gestured almost absently, and a yawning pit opened beneath the feet of the remaining heralds in the side passage. They fell screaming one-hundred feet, into a pool of caustic acid below.
“You may lead on,” she instructed Harold.
Harold led her and Velox through a series of narrow corridors until they emerged in a wide, long corridor. From one end, they could hear the sounds of the battle still ranging from the service hall. At the other end, three more heralds stood nervously before a pair of massive doors.
“Deal with them,” Mox sighed.
Velox nodded and charged forward.
Selena cleared the path for Stevhan and Davrim by hurling a fireball into the chamber beyond them. One of the troll warriors went down in a mass of flame, as did one of the wardens. The ranger and the inquisitor charged in and engaged the remaining wardens, cutting them down with vicious strikes of their blades. As the last troll rolled on the floor trying to extinguish itself, Selena moved into the chamber and sent a blast of flames from her fingertips at it. It screamed as it slowly burned to death.
The companions paused for a moment to catch their breath. Then, as they peered through a pair of doors down a side corridor, incredibly, they saw Velox and Mox, escorted by a herald, throw open the portals to what appeared to be the palace’s throne room…
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A regal throne carved of burgundy stone sat atop a broad dais of red-veined, white marble in the grand hall. A large circular stage stood beneath a high dome to one side, and on the other lay a banquet area set with a massive oaken table. The far wall beyond the throne featured several towering stained-glass windows that depicted King Irovetti in various regal and heroic poses. The high-vaulted hall was flanked on either side by a long colonnade which supported an ornately carved balcony. Spiral, curving staircases spanned from balcony to floor at irregular intervals around the room.
Irovetti himself sat upon the throne, and he was surrounded by a small army. On the balconies, six heralds crouched with bows in hand, while six wardens stood arrayed around the base of the dais. In addition, four more of the hulking, armored trolls hunched before the dais. Flanking Irovetti on his left was none other than Villamor Koth, the Pitax champion from the Rushlight Tournament. On the king’s right-hand side stood a massive, blue-skinned giant, with yellow, tusk-like teeth protruding from his full lower lip. He wore a blood-red breast plate, and bore an enormous great sword across his back. This was General Avinash Jurrg, commander of the armies of Pitax. As Mox strode into the throne room behind Velox, Irovetti rose to his feet.
“So you have come for me at last, have you?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “I knew you would. Very well. No more games. No more tricks. No more decoys. Skill against skill, strength against strength, and we shall see who deserves to rule, and who deserves to die.”
“Oh that we will,” Mox replied, her voice as hollow as the grave. “Of that you may rest assured in the short time that is left you.”
Velox stepped into the room in front of Mox, his eyes glazing over as Iomedae’s power took him. White light crackled around him as he grew to twice his normal height, righteous wrath infusing him. Selena rushed down the hallway to join the pair, quickly putting one of the oncoming wardens to sleep. Further down the corridor, Stevhan and Davrim rushed to reach the throne room. Tungdill trailed behind them, now in his air elemental form, his pair of summoned cyclopes by his side. None of them saw the six heralds pour out of the second side corridor that flanked the gated entry hall. No one until they opened fire on the cyclopes.
“Ah, c’mon!” Tungdill snapped as several arrows passed harmlessly through him. “This again? Take care of’em, boys!”
The cyclopes grunted and turned back down the hall, swinging their clubs as they went.
As Velox lumbered further into the throne room, batting another warden’s weapon from his hands as he went, Selena prepared another hex. Before she knew what was happening, however, a blur of motion rushed at her from beneath the shadows of a nearby balcony. At first glance, she took it for some sort of wild animal…a tiger, perhaps. But it came at her on two legs, and tatters of clothing clung to its lithe, feline form. The next thing Selena knew was blinding pain. The tiger-creature sank its inch-long fangs into her shoulder, and blood spurted in a geyser. Simultaneously, the curse of retribution she always wove about herself each day discharged, sending an explosive jolt of electricity through her assailant. The tiger-thing yowled, and fell back hissing and spitting. Mox, standing a little too close for comfort, witnessed the entire incident. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, debating, and then she quickly spun a spell of invisibility about her, vanishing from sight.
Velox heard the commotion behind him, but he was consumed by battle fury. He rushed towards the dais, his focus intent on Irovetti, but it was General Jurrg who met his charge. The oracle put his hand out, black energy blazing around it. He thrust his palm against Jurrg’s chest, fully expecting the life to be all but drained out of the big oni. Instead, the general gave a mild grimace, then spun his massive sword around in a graceful arc before whipping it across Velox’s belly. For a moment, Velox’s eyes cleared as overwhelming pain pierced his battle trance. He looked down and saw blood gathering in a rapidly deepening pool on the floor beneath him, and then he saw his own entrails spilling out of the gash in his abdomen. His face grew ashen, and he stumbled away.
Davrim paused at the entrance to the throne room, his glance flickering between Selena and Velox. The inquisitor felt rage building inside him, and he focused Iomedae’s power upon that anger. He began to grow, equaling the trolls in size within seconds. His transformation was completed just as two of the trolls closed to him, axes swinging. Davrim barely had time to raise his sword in defense, managing to deflect the worst of the blows, but still suffering two vicious gashes. He saw two wardens moving towards his flank, and he spun quickly, driving them back with sweeping swings from his blade. He then turned back just as one of the trolls charged. Davrim crouched low, and then thrust his sword up through the giant’s chin and out the top of his head. The troll collapsed to the floor with a crash.
Selena used the momentary distraction to reach in a pouch at her belt and grab a handful of dust, which she quickly flung over herself. As it settled, she vanished from sight. In a flash, Stevhan rushed towards the weretiger who was still looking around for her prey in bewilderment. The ranger’s sword struck lightning-quick, piercing deep into the lycanthrope’s flesh. She yowled in pain, then twisted a ring on one of her clawed fingers and promptly disappeared like Selena had.
Irovetti was greatly enjoying the show. The Kardashian fools had done precisely as he had expected…charged blindly into an unknown situation, heedless of what awaited them. And now here they were, fallen neatly into his trap. He began the words to a spell. Crushing the will of the ranger would amuse him to no end, and turning him upon his companions would be the icing on the cake.
“Not so fast, usurper!” he heard Mox’s voice shout, though he could not see her anywhere.
A moment later, a barrage of arcane bolts struck him, blowing the spell from his mind, and knocking off his throne. Suddenly, a light flared around him, and he was simply gone.
“Curse the gods!!!” Mox roared as she realized what had happened. Irovetti had teleported away. He had escaped.
Tungdill grinned as his cyclopes drove the heralds before them. His smile faded a moment later, however, as he saw another pair of guard trolls move into the hallway from the other end. He quickly began casting another spell, and a massive tiger erupted out of thin air and charged the giants. It barreled into one like a hawk on a rabbit, claws and teeth flashing. The creature lasted all of six seconds before the trolls hacked it to pieces. Still, the distraction was long enough for Tungdill to complete another spell. This time it was centipedes that he summoned…hundreds and hundreds of six-inch long centipedes. A veritable creeping doom. The heralds began to scream as the insects swarmed over them, and the trolls beat at the horde in futility with their axes.
With his last remaining strength, Velox placed his hands over his destroyed abdomen and channeled what power was left to him into his own body. The pain was excruciating, intense but brief. When it faded, he looked down and breathed a relieved sigh when he saw that the wound had closed completely.
General Jurrg had already written the oracle off. He flew across the throne room to land directly in front of Davrim. Before the inquisitor could react, the huge oni blasted him, and the entire hallway behind him, including the cyclopes, the still-invisible Selena, and Harold the herald, with a conical blast of ice and frigid air. The pathetic Kardashians were bowled away from Jurrg, but then he caught a glimpse of movement coming from his flank. He turned as Stevhan rushed towards him, and with a flick of his sword, he sent the ranger’s own blade spinning away across the floor. As Stevhan darted after it, cursing all the way, one of the guard trolls slashed him savagely across the thigh with its axe.
Selena grunted in pain as she hoisted herself to her feet out of the ice. For a brief moment, the sleet limned her invisible form. It was enough. From out of nowhere, the weretiger was upon her once more. It struck her viciously across the face once, twice with its claws, sending her crashing back to the floor. The weretiger pounced. Selena got one hand up as it landed on her, and as her palm touched its fur, a blast of electricity surged out of her, setting every hair of the lycanthrope’s body on end. It collapsed on the floor beside her, a charred, smoking heap.
Stevhan grabbed his sword just as the troll charged him. He quickly side-stepped and slashed across the brute’s flank twice as it passed him. He braced himself for its next assault, and it was then that he saw Villamor Koth coming at him. The barbarian hacked down with a barbed greataxe, and as it opened up a long gash in Stevhan’s sword arm, a smaller wound appeared on Koth himself, and he roared in sadistic ecstasy at the pain. He raised his axe again, but before he could strike, a thin beam of green light touched his arm and dissolved the flesh down to the bone.
“You should stick to jousting,” Mox sneered.
“And you won’t be needing this!” Velox said as he came up behind Koth and swatted the axe from his remaining hand.
Koth turned towards the oracle, shock and pain still etched on his face, his eyes wide…until Velox plunged his sword through one of them.
“As for you…,” Mox turned towards Jurrg.
“What, little mage?” the oni chuckled. “What will you do with me?”
He advanced menacingly towards her, the tip of his sword whicking back and forth.
“Such strength,” Mox purred. “Such power. Too bad all of it comes to naught if you lack something as simple as the air you breath.”
The queen pinched her thumb and forefinger together, and just like that, Jurrg stopped in his tracks, his eyes suddenly bulging. His sword fell from his hands as he grabbed at his throat. His face turned an even deeper shade of purple as he dropped to his knees, and finally fell face-first to the floor.
With the Pitaxian leaders either fled or killed, the battle became one of attrition. Though the companions were outnumbered by wardens, heralds and trolls, it was never really about numbers. Certainly, Tungdill’s cyclopes and the late arrival of Mox’s zombified shambler did help offset the odds, but the outcome was never really in question. Tungdill’s centipede swarms made quick work of the heralds and trolls moving in from the flank, while Mox and the others methodically thinned the ranks of the troops still massed in the throne room itself. Finally, the last defender fell, and the companions took a moment to catch their breath and tend their wounds. Then Mox turned to Harold the herald.
“So, my friend,” the Queen asked smiling, “where might we find the King so that I can have a word with him in private?”
“I’m sorry, my Lady,” Harold bowed, “but I’m not privy to where His Majesty keeps his private quarters.”
Mox glowered for a moment, her brow deeply furrowed.
“Well then,” she sighed, “I guess we’ll just tear this place apart room by room until we flush the rat out of his hole.”
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Mox and her companions, led by Harold the herald, and trailed by an undead shambling mound, began working their way through the maze-like palace. Along the way, they ran afoul of four more squads of wardens, each led by a herald. Each squad was swiftly annihilated to a man, usually within a matter of seconds before the group moved on. Eventually, Mox was convinced that no one remained alive to threaten them on the main level of the castle, and so she had Harold lead them down to the lower levels.
The first chamber they arrived in was decorated with all manner of preserved hides, horns, heads, and bones of creatures malevolent and benign. An archway on the far side opened into a roughly hewn chamber in which stood, of all things, a bed. Velox led the way down the narrow spiral stairs into the room, cloaked in invisibility by a magical ring he’d removed from the finger of the weretiger in the throne room above. As he set foot in the room, he heard several low growls emanating from the shadowy corners. Two truly enormous hounds stepped into the light, their eyes like coals of fire, and flame dripping from their jowls. They sniffed the air, and then both of them simultaneously locked their eyes on the stairwell. Before Velox could react, they opened their jaws wide and breathed twin blasts of fire into the stairs, blistering the oracle’s flesh. He rolled across the floor, trying to extinguish himself. Stevhan dashed down the stairs behind him, and slashed at the nearest hound, driving it away from Velox. That gave the oracle time to regain his feet and draw his own blade and drive it through the hound’s chest. It fell twitching to the floor. Davrim followed Stevhan into the room and moved next to his friends to corner the remaining hound. Before they could strike, however, Davrim cried out in agony. Standing behind him, seemingly having materialized out thin air, was a horned creature with bat-like wings. Its claws dripped blood from where it had just driven them into the inquisitor’s neck. Davrim stumbled forward, and that’s when the hound lunged and sank its teeth into his chest. He wheezed, blood frothing from his lips as his lung was punctured. The dog didn’t let go, even as Davrim sank to his knees. It took Stevhan stabbing the beast again and again until it finally loosened its death grip. He and Velox then turned on the demonic assassin. It darted to the side, trying to maneuver around the warriors, but the room was too small. There was nowhere to run. The ranger and the oracle backed the creature into a corner, and though it fought back savagely, its claws were no match for twin yards of cold steel.
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“This is getting us nowhere!” Mox said in exasperation. “We’ve searched this whole place from top to bottom. Where is Irovetti!?”
“Maybe there’s something we missed,” Velox offered. “Something hidden. This place is a maze. There are bound to be numerous hidden passages and rooms secreted within it.”
“Fine!” Mox snapped. “Let’s go through it again.”
The companions spent the next two hours combing through the palace, searching every nook and cranny. They did indeed find several concealed doors, but most of these only led to service hallways. Finally, however, Stevhan stumbled on something different. It was a very cleverly hidden door just off the royal box that overlooked the palace’s arena. One the other side was a plain room, but a set of stairs led down to a passage that wound deep underground. Velox took the lead once more, cloaking himself in invisibility. At the bottom of another stair, he found himself in a sumptuously appointed bedchamber with a polished tile floor and walls, a tinkling fountain, and dozens of sculptures, all lit by stained-glass lamps and sconces. A large, owlbearskin rug lay before a hexagonal bed in the corner of the room, while on the far side, a thick purple curtain hung from the ceiling. The sound of rippling water echoed from somewhere beyond the curtain.
“They’re here!” a voice that clearly belonged to Irovetti shouted from beyond the curtain.
Davrim dashed down the stairs just as the curtain was torn from its rod by Velox’s unseen hands. Beyond it, a placid pool glowed from many crystal lamps mounted above and below the water line. A gilded statue with Irovetti’s face and an impossibly perfect body rose from the waves with arms extended, as though reaching out toward a lover. Along one side, a large dry area seemed to have once served as a treasury, but all of the chests appeared to be empty. Five wardens and three heralds stood in a phalanx just beyond the curtain, while behind them stood Irovetti himself, next to an enormous creature with the body of a serpent, and the face of a sadistic-looking woman.
“Duck!” Selena’s voice came from behind the inquisitor, and instinctively, he did.
A pea-sized ball of flame streaked past him and exploded among the massed wardens and heralds, killing two of the former and a pair of the latter instantly. The flames also washed over the naga, and she recoiled, hissing. As the formation of soldiers disintegrated, Stevhan descended the stairs behind Selena, and put an arrow through the throat of the last herald standing. Tungdill was the last of the companions down the stairwell, and he added his own fire to the chaos, sending a winding snake of flames coursing among the wardens, burning the last three, before sending it towards both Irovetti and his serpentine guardian. The naga darted to one side, but as she did so, she sent a coruscating chain of electricity bouncing among Selena, Davrim, Stevhan and Tungdill. Selena answered with a lightning bolt of her own, followed by another, fireball. The twin blasts killed the naga before she could reach the pool towards which she was moving.
Irovetti was all alone, and he knew it well. Tungdill hurled a column of roaring light and flames at him, and he rolled frantically away from it, desperately trying to extinguish his robes. He raised the oddly bladed rod that he clutched in one hand, but before he could show its mysterious powers, Velox appeared before him, and with a flick of his blade, sent the rod spinning away into the pool. On his knees, he began casting a spell.
“He’s trying to escape again!” Mox cried. “Finish him!”
Before Irovetti could complete the last words of his spell, Velox raised his sword high, and with one swipe, removed the king’s head from his shoulders.
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It was Tungdill who first saw it, a narrow tunnel just beneath the water line in the pond, all but hidden in the shadowy recesses of the pool. Stevhan dove in and swam through the opening. The walls of the underwater cave in which he soon found himself were a wonder to behold. Masses of what appeared to be white, rose-shaped crystals covered every available inch of space on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the grotto. Something floated in the middle of the room, slowly turning in the water’s currents. It appeared to be some sort of long object wrapped in a white cloth. Carefully, Stevhan reached out to free the object from the shawl, and his hand gripped the hilt of the most beautiful sword he’d ever seen.
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The Kardashian nobility walked through the streets of Pitax, escorted by scores of centaur and human soldiers. They came to a halt in the Square of the Common Man, the most central part of the city. There, the representatives of the Bandit Houses stood, watched over by several Kardashian guardsmen. Mox and her companions paused before them.
“I’ve decided that your lives shall be spared,” she announced without preamble, “but there are conditions to your continued survival. You will be responsible for making reparations to the people of Kardashia for the damage inflicted upon them by your illegal and unsupported war.”
Jhofre’ Vascari gaped. “But…but we had nothing to do with the attack!”
“Of course you did,” Mox replied. “You stood by and let it happen. You allowed a usurper to be installed upon the throne of Pitax. Your guilt lies in your inaction.”
“By what authority do you do this??” Vascari demanded.
“Show them,” Mox turned to one of her attendants.
Harold the Herald tossed Irovetti’s head to the ground at the feet of the stunned barons.
“The King is dead,” he proclaimed loudly. “Long live the Queen!”