Nightbreeze
First Post
HugeOgre said:
Nope, just a copy. Far less powerfull, but it has amazing strength anyway.
That's IIRC, of course. The first re-introduction of Navev was several pages ago.
The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
Nope, just a copy. Far less powerfull, but it has amazing strength anyway.
That's IIRC, of course. The first re-introduction of Navev was several pages ago.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Quite a ways back, actually:Nightbreeze said:
Chapter 110 said:
I have been leveling Navev more or less along with the good guys; he's picked up a few new invocations since we last saw him. Likewise the Lesser Wand of Orcus has powers that increase with the level of the owner. I'll post more info about both in my next Rogues' Gallery update.
* * * * *
Chapter 253
FALLEN AND LOST
Nelan continued to give ground before the goblin cleric’s assault. Allera’s last burst of healing had helped him, but his side still throbbed where the evil little monster’s mace had struck him, and his shield hung limply at his side, the arm broken just below the elbow.
The goblin followed, giving him no respite. Nelan’s own counterattacks had been feeble; the goblin’s armor was of exceptional quality, and magical to boot. Furthermore, it appeared to be protected from good, a product of either its own magic or the dark nature of this place, Nelan was unsure which.
He was able to get his shield off his arm, grimacing as a knife of pain shot up from the damaged limb. But he had no choice; it wasn’t doing him any good now, and without both hands free he could not both cast and attack. Not that either seemed to be of any use against this foe.
The goblin merely came in again and swept his morningstar around toward the cleric’s knee. Nelan tried to get away, but his bruised limbs moved slowly, and he braced himself for a boneshattering impact.
The blow hit, but the force of it was surprisingly light, and the weapon’s spikes failed to penetrate even the light armor covering the joint. Nelan looked up in surprise. The goblin, too, seemed to be caught off guard, and it looked around, snarling.
Alderis stood behind him, several paces back. To a casual look, he wasn’t doing anything, and he made no move toward the wands or spell component pouches attached to his belt.
Tribitz, however, recognized what he could not see. The goblin’s wards had suddenly all vanished, and it could feel the abrupt loss as its divine power and bull’s strength faded. The goblin had never encountered an antimagic field before, but it was quick to discern the nature of the enemy’s spell, and likewise learned that it did not like it one bit.
Nelan had no idea what was happening, but he was quick to take advantage. He struck with his mace, smashing the metal head across the goblin’s back. To his surprise, the blow had a noticeable impact, and the goblin cleric staggered forward.
That was enough for Tribitz; the goblin turned and headed away from the mage, seeking to escape the radius of the field. But Alderis had been expecting flight, and he followed the goblin, outpacing him within a few steps, and throwing himself at the creature. The two struggled for a moment, and then with a snarl the goblin pushed the larger and heavier elf away. The two got tangled together, however, and both fell to the ground, the goblin’s heavy armor clanking loudly as it hit the floor.
Dar had to strike carefully, to avoid hitting the struggling woman held aloft in the skeleton’s dangerous clutches. But the skeleton, already damaged, was certainly not ready to handle Valor. The first blow took off the creature’s left leg at the knee, and as it fell he came around behind it, and drove the pommel of the weapon through the creature’s skull. It came apart in an instant, and Dar rushed to help Allera as she fell amidst the clatter of heavy bones.
“Are you all right?” he asked her. The silence spell had ended with the monster’s existence, and Allera quickly took advantage, casting another mass cure that infused her allies with new strength. Dar let out a deep breath as the spell coursed through him; he’d taken a heavy beating, but the combined effects of the three healing spells he’d gotten from Allera had brought him almost back to full strength. He started looking around for something else to kill, but then Allera drew him back around with a shout of alarm.
“Shay, Talen... by the gods!” And then she was running, and Dar had to hurry to keep up with her.
The goblin cleric struggled to its feet. Without its magical enhancements, it looked truly pathetic, a wretched little creature clad in armor too big for its shriveled frame. Nelan came up behind it as it picked up its weapon, smashing it again with his mace. Once again the blow was telling, but the goblin priest had no interest in engaging him now. Instead it tried to run again, to escape the bubble of magical nullity surrounding Alderis, to once again seek the power that came from communion with its master. The elf, just coming to his feet, could not keep up with its sudden burst of speed.
But as it reached the edge of the antimagic field, it found another elf blocking its path. Seeing that this one was a slight female, it tried to simply push its way past.
For Tribitz, underestimating Mehlaraine was the last mistake it would ever make. The nimble woman easily sidestepped the goblin’s rush, tripping it with an outstretched leg, diverting it back toward Alderis as it fell with a sublte twist of her body. She then stepped forward to loom over the evil cleric, Avelis shining in her hand. Within the antimagic field its magic was nullified, but the slender sword was no less deadly for it.
What Dar saw as he ran filled him with rage. Shay lay against the edge of the pool, covered in blood. Talen... yes, that was him, lying in a heap at the warlock’s feet. His sword had fallen to the ground nearby. Of more immediate concern was Allera; she was running straight for Navev, heedless of the danger posed by the undead warlock’s magic blasts.
Dar put on an added burst of speed, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Valor.
Navev could have blasted them without difficulty, but instead the warlock reached down and grasped the front of Talen’s armor. It took some effort, but the revenant lifted the slain knight onto its back, bowing beneath the heavy weight.
“Release him!” Allera shouted, her own voice thick with anger. The warlock lifted a hand, and Dar tensed, expecting an attack on both of them. He was only a few steps behind her, now, as she slowed near the edge of the pool.
But Navev only smiled, and saluted mockingly. There was a flash, and then Talen was gone; just the warlock stood there, waiting.
Allera, confused, stopped, but Dar charged past her, rushing around the edge of the pool. The warlock did not react, and as Dar reached it he swept Valor through it... literally, as the weapon passed harmlessly through the illusiory body of the revenant. Dar only barely recovered in time to avoid pitching headlong into the pool of blood. He looked up to see the warlock’s major image already fading. It spoke to him, the words vanishing along with its body.
“He is ours, now...”
Then it was gone, leaving only a faint hint of laughter hanging in the air.
CrusadeDave
First Post
Heh Heh Heh
Lazybones
Adventurer
I'm heading out of town for business. I may have access to a computer, and since I carry the master story file in my flash drive, if so I will post a Friday update. Otherwise, this one will have to carry you forward until Monday.
* * * * *
Chapter 254
WITHOUT A LEADER
“Talen! Tal...”
“Careful,” Allera said. “You came very close to dying, let the healing work...”
But Shay continued to struggle, trying to get up. Allera was forced to restrain her. Blood already covered the healer’s robe from her brief contact with the wounded scout. Most of it came from the pool, and not the injured woman, but Shay hadn’t been breathing when Allera had gotten to her, and she still lingered on the brink of oblivion.
“Damn it, woman, hold still! You won’t be of any use to him if you die before I can treat you!”
The unexpected surge of anger from Allera seemed to break through to Shay, who fell back, gasping for air. Every time she coughed, a spew of red blood poured down the sides of her face. Allera held her as she cleared her airways enough to breathe.
“Talen... Where’s Talen?” she pressed, when she could speak again.
“That freaking wizard took him,” Dar said. The fighter stood behind Allera, a grim look on his face.
Shay nodded, and once again tried to get up. Again Allera protested. “Shay, your body has suffered an incredible strain, you need to—”
“Am I still in danger of dying?”
Allera shook her head.
“Then help me up. Now.”
Dar turned as Alderis walked up to them. “How are the others?” he asked.
“Selanthas and Letellia are still paralyzed,” the elf reported. “Mehlaraine and Nelan are keeping watch over them. The knight-commander?”
“Navev took him. Used some kind of illusion to cover his escape.”
“They may still be nearby,” Shay said. She faltered as she tried to step away from Allera’s support, and would likely have fallen if the healer hadn’t rushed in to steady her.
“We’ll search, but we need to get everyone healed, and wait for Selanthas and Letellia to recover,” Dar said.
Shay pushed away again, and this time remained standing on her own power. “Every second may count,” she said. “We need to—”
“If we split up, we won’t stand a chance,” Dar said. “I understand how you feel, Shay, but what would Talen say in this same situation, were he here?”
“He’d say to focus on the mission,” Shay said, meeting his gaze squarely, and not flinching from it. “But I’m not going to stay here while that.... that... thing takes him away.”
“Screw the mission,” Dar said. “We’re going after him, but we’re going to do it smart. Allera, can you fix Selanthas and Letellia?”
The healer nodded. “I just need a minute or two.”
Shay started walking away. “Where are you going?” Dar asked.
“I am going to look for tracks; see if I can find out which way they went.”
Dar made a subtle gesture to Alderis. “I will accompany you; perhaps I can detect some magical traces,” the elf said. The two moved off toward the last spot where they’d seen the warlock, on the far side of the blood-pool.
As they left, Allera came up close to Dar. A garish streak of crimson covered her cheek where Shay had inadvertently brushed her during her struggles. “I got a good look at Talen before Navev vanished,” she said in a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t think he was alive.”
Dar nodded. “Yeah, I saw that too. See what you can do for the others.”
She pressed a vial into his hand. “Drink this. It will help. I’ll be right back.”
Dar looked down at the tiny glass bottle. “If only it was so simple,” he muttered. But he uncorked the vial and downed its contents. Once it was empty, he tossed it aside. The healing energy of the potion burned away the last remnants of his physical injuries, but his expression remained grim as he watched Shay and Alderis conduct their search.
* * * * *
Chapter 254
WITHOUT A LEADER
“Talen! Tal...”
“Careful,” Allera said. “You came very close to dying, let the healing work...”
But Shay continued to struggle, trying to get up. Allera was forced to restrain her. Blood already covered the healer’s robe from her brief contact with the wounded scout. Most of it came from the pool, and not the injured woman, but Shay hadn’t been breathing when Allera had gotten to her, and she still lingered on the brink of oblivion.
“Damn it, woman, hold still! You won’t be of any use to him if you die before I can treat you!”
The unexpected surge of anger from Allera seemed to break through to Shay, who fell back, gasping for air. Every time she coughed, a spew of red blood poured down the sides of her face. Allera held her as she cleared her airways enough to breathe.
“Talen... Where’s Talen?” she pressed, when she could speak again.
“That freaking wizard took him,” Dar said. The fighter stood behind Allera, a grim look on his face.
Shay nodded, and once again tried to get up. Again Allera protested. “Shay, your body has suffered an incredible strain, you need to—”
“Am I still in danger of dying?”
Allera shook her head.
“Then help me up. Now.”
Dar turned as Alderis walked up to them. “How are the others?” he asked.
“Selanthas and Letellia are still paralyzed,” the elf reported. “Mehlaraine and Nelan are keeping watch over them. The knight-commander?”
“Navev took him. Used some kind of illusion to cover his escape.”
“They may still be nearby,” Shay said. She faltered as she tried to step away from Allera’s support, and would likely have fallen if the healer hadn’t rushed in to steady her.
“We’ll search, but we need to get everyone healed, and wait for Selanthas and Letellia to recover,” Dar said.
Shay pushed away again, and this time remained standing on her own power. “Every second may count,” she said. “We need to—”
“If we split up, we won’t stand a chance,” Dar said. “I understand how you feel, Shay, but what would Talen say in this same situation, were he here?”
“He’d say to focus on the mission,” Shay said, meeting his gaze squarely, and not flinching from it. “But I’m not going to stay here while that.... that... thing takes him away.”
“Screw the mission,” Dar said. “We’re going after him, but we’re going to do it smart. Allera, can you fix Selanthas and Letellia?”
The healer nodded. “I just need a minute or two.”
Shay started walking away. “Where are you going?” Dar asked.
“I am going to look for tracks; see if I can find out which way they went.”
Dar made a subtle gesture to Alderis. “I will accompany you; perhaps I can detect some magical traces,” the elf said. The two moved off toward the last spot where they’d seen the warlock, on the far side of the blood-pool.
As they left, Allera came up close to Dar. A garish streak of crimson covered her cheek where Shay had inadvertently brushed her during her struggles. “I got a good look at Talen before Navev vanished,” she said in a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t think he was alive.”
Dar nodded. “Yeah, I saw that too. See what you can do for the others.”
She pressed a vial into his hand. “Drink this. It will help. I’ll be right back.”
Dar looked down at the tiny glass bottle. “If only it was so simple,” he muttered. But he uncorked the vial and downed its contents. Once it was empty, he tossed it aside. The healing energy of the potion burned away the last remnants of his physical injuries, but his expression remained grim as he watched Shay and Alderis conduct their search.
Nightbreeze
First Post
Ok, we may be aproaching the final Talen vs Dar beatdown.
Awesome twist, Lazybones
Awesome twist, Lazybones
Lazybones
Adventurer
Was able to post after all.
* * * * *
Chapter 255
A GRIM FIND
They stood there, looking down at the bits and pieces of metal and leather that were scattered across the floor.
Shay had been the first to find them. She’d driven them in their scouting mission, darting into rooms before they could even seen what lay within them, searching quickly but methodically through the complex. They had found nothing in the two rooms that had directly adjoined the temple, so they’d retreated back to the outer part of the level, and continued looking. They’d found a foyer that had led to three staircases, two leading down and one leading up. But there hadn’t been any tracks or traces of magic that they could detect, and with the odds of a blind charge against them, they had continued their exploration of the level.
They had made their way back toward the caves where the displacer beasts had laired, and the river that led back to the first level of the dungeon. There was a complex of rooms near the entry to the caves; they had rested there once before, on an earlier visit to the dungeon. Shay led them quickly through several rooms, and in a small, dank chamber at the end of a twisting weave of corridors and rooms they had found the remains of Talen’s gear.
The pile included his armor, hastily cut from his body, his dagger and bow, and his backpack. It looked like Navev had taken the rest of the knight’s magic items with him.
“We have to find him,” Shay said, turning. She had taken a step toward the room’s single door before Dar stopped her. “Don’t get in my way, Dar.”
“Where are you going to go?” he asked her.
“I will find him.”
“How? I know you can track almost anything, but Alderis has already told us that he used a form of magical teleportation to escape the temple. We found no tracks on the way here, which suggests that he used the same means to leave this room.”
Shay was silent, but the frustration was obvious in her eyes.
“We will find him, Shay,” Allera said. “We need to use magic. Letellia said that Honoratius had a spell that can detect the location of any person or thing, anywhere, no matter where it is.”
The sorceress nodded. “The spell is called discern location, and it is very powerful. When the archmage rejoins us, we can ask him to prepare the spell.”
“And I will prepare a commune spell, to seek out the guidance of the Father,” Nelan said.
Shay nodded, reluctantly. “I just can’t... I...” She trailed off, and Allera came to her, embracing her. Sobs rocked the scout’s body.
“We will find him,” Allera repeated. She looked up at Dar.
The fighter’s expression was a thunderhead.
* * * * *
“I can cast the spell,” Honoratius said. “But I will have to rest, and prepare the incantation from my books before it will be possible.”
They were camped in one of the small rooms not far from the river caves. While Nelan had been prepared to begin the ritual to hallow the last temple of Orcus, they had decided to rest first, and recover their strength. The fact that Honoratius could not join them as long as they were within the actual temple precincts had also been a factor in the decision.
The archmage had joined them about an hour after they’d found the remains of Talen’s gear. Shay had been watching the sorceress intently, and she had barely recovered from the merging process when the scout had begun updating the archmage on their situation. Now Honoratius sat with his chin propped against his knees, his borrowed eyes shining in the light of their torches. Even in Letellia’s body, they could tell that he was tired.
“There is something else going on,” Allera said.
The archmage nodded. “The Council wishes to speak to you. I have prepared a spell that should allow for two-way communication from here to Camar.”
“Interesting. A more potent version of the sending spell?” Alderis asked.
“Yes, combined with elements from the scrying spell, all tied together through the power of my orb of visions, back in the Guild tower.”
“What valence does the incantation req—“
“We can chat about the details later,” Dar said. “How long does the spell take to cast, archmage?”
“Just one minute.”
“Then you’d better do it. I have a feeling we’re not going to like what the marshal has to say.”
* * * * *
Chapter 255
A GRIM FIND
They stood there, looking down at the bits and pieces of metal and leather that were scattered across the floor.
Shay had been the first to find them. She’d driven them in their scouting mission, darting into rooms before they could even seen what lay within them, searching quickly but methodically through the complex. They had found nothing in the two rooms that had directly adjoined the temple, so they’d retreated back to the outer part of the level, and continued looking. They’d found a foyer that had led to three staircases, two leading down and one leading up. But there hadn’t been any tracks or traces of magic that they could detect, and with the odds of a blind charge against them, they had continued their exploration of the level.
They had made their way back toward the caves where the displacer beasts had laired, and the river that led back to the first level of the dungeon. There was a complex of rooms near the entry to the caves; they had rested there once before, on an earlier visit to the dungeon. Shay led them quickly through several rooms, and in a small, dank chamber at the end of a twisting weave of corridors and rooms they had found the remains of Talen’s gear.
The pile included his armor, hastily cut from his body, his dagger and bow, and his backpack. It looked like Navev had taken the rest of the knight’s magic items with him.
“We have to find him,” Shay said, turning. She had taken a step toward the room’s single door before Dar stopped her. “Don’t get in my way, Dar.”
“Where are you going to go?” he asked her.
“I will find him.”
“How? I know you can track almost anything, but Alderis has already told us that he used a form of magical teleportation to escape the temple. We found no tracks on the way here, which suggests that he used the same means to leave this room.”
Shay was silent, but the frustration was obvious in her eyes.
“We will find him, Shay,” Allera said. “We need to use magic. Letellia said that Honoratius had a spell that can detect the location of any person or thing, anywhere, no matter where it is.”
The sorceress nodded. “The spell is called discern location, and it is very powerful. When the archmage rejoins us, we can ask him to prepare the spell.”
“And I will prepare a commune spell, to seek out the guidance of the Father,” Nelan said.
Shay nodded, reluctantly. “I just can’t... I...” She trailed off, and Allera came to her, embracing her. Sobs rocked the scout’s body.
“We will find him,” Allera repeated. She looked up at Dar.
The fighter’s expression was a thunderhead.
* * * * *
“I can cast the spell,” Honoratius said. “But I will have to rest, and prepare the incantation from my books before it will be possible.”
They were camped in one of the small rooms not far from the river caves. While Nelan had been prepared to begin the ritual to hallow the last temple of Orcus, they had decided to rest first, and recover their strength. The fact that Honoratius could not join them as long as they were within the actual temple precincts had also been a factor in the decision.
The archmage had joined them about an hour after they’d found the remains of Talen’s gear. Shay had been watching the sorceress intently, and she had barely recovered from the merging process when the scout had begun updating the archmage on their situation. Now Honoratius sat with his chin propped against his knees, his borrowed eyes shining in the light of their torches. Even in Letellia’s body, they could tell that he was tired.
“There is something else going on,” Allera said.
The archmage nodded. “The Council wishes to speak to you. I have prepared a spell that should allow for two-way communication from here to Camar.”
“Interesting. A more potent version of the sending spell?” Alderis asked.
“Yes, combined with elements from the scrying spell, all tied together through the power of my orb of visions, back in the Guild tower.”
“What valence does the incantation req—“
“We can chat about the details later,” Dar said. “How long does the spell take to cast, archmage?”
“Just one minute.”
“Then you’d better do it. I have a feeling we’re not going to like what the marshal has to say.”
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 256
A NEW COMMAND
Dar’s guess had been all too correct.
“Talen’s loss is a great blow to our cause,” Velan Tiros said, his voice distorted slightly as it passed through the magical sensor that hung in the air before them. The glowing orb was a direct conduit to the tower of the Guild of Sorcery in Camar, but it only allowed them to see and hear through it; it was not an actual gateway between the two locations. Tiros’s form shimmered and shifted slightly as he spoke, like a reflection viewed in a pond. “But events have made our situation more grim, colonel. The town of Albrith has been completely destroyed. The quake was just the latest of several that have hit the region, but it was the most damaging, focused almost directly on the town. The chasm that swallowed Albrith is now over a hundred feet across and almost a mile long. Honoratius confirmed that the quake was not natural in origin.”
“I scried the site,” the archmage said, “and the lingering auras there were extremely... potent.”
“How many people were killed?” Nelan asked, his face pale.
The new Patriarch, Decius Jaduran, looked almost shrunken in the heavy white robe of his office. The aged priest replied, “Our latest estimates are just under four hundred dead. But many are still missing, or otherwise unaccounted for.”
“It would seem that the demon prince is testing its power,” Selanthas said.
“Why wouldn’t it just attack Camar?” Dar asked.
“Honoratius?” Tiros said.
“I am not certain, but I believe that the demon’s touch upon our world is still tenuous,” the archmage said. “These impacts may not even be deliberate, but merely side effects of its efforts to gain a firm presence upon this Prime. As it grows stronger, the effects will grow more pronounced.”
“We’ve destroyed two temples,” Allera said. “Shouldn’t its power be growing weaker, not stronger?”
“The completion of the ritual and the sundering of the Sphere of Souls brought Orcus almost fully into our world,” Honoratius said. “We can weaken the demon by destroying the temples, but it will ultimately pass fully into the Prime, unless it is confronted and destroyed. Once it is fully here, it will rapidly grow in power, as it feeds upon the life energies of our rich world.”
“You had said it was hiding in some plane thing,” Dar said.
“A demiplane,” Honoratius explained. “An artificial reality halfway between the Prime Material and the Abyss. The demon had to expend a considerable amount of power to make the transition from the Abyss. It will gather its strength, and then make the final passage into our world.”
“And when it gets here?” Allera asked.
There was no reply. On the other side of the sensor, Tiros looked grave.
“Have there been any more undead attacks, marshal?” Dar asked.
“Only a few scattered incidents. But there has been a rash of disasters since you left Camar, and the people are increasingly fearful. Midwinter has long since passed, but winter keeps an iron clutch over the land. We have done what we can, but hunger is becoming a problem in the cities. Pestilence has ravaged both the human and animal kingdoms. In some areas as many as half of all domesticated animals have died, badly, covered in oozing boils, their carcasses suitable only for the fire. A plague broke out in Dalemar; a not uncommon occurance in a city under siege, but I have never seen nor heard of such an occurance in the depths of winter. There have been reports of thousands dead, with corpses lying frozen in the streets. Despite this, Livius has refused to sue for peace, and if anything his raids have grown more aggressive. Conditions in our legion camps outside the city are... grim, even with the bulk of our forces redeployed further south.”
“Damn that stubborn bastard,” Dar said.
“Do you believe that these events are connected to what is happening in Rappan Athuk?” Nelan asked.
“I can grant credit to the occasional coincidence, ser priest, but there are just too many troubles coming at once,” Tiros replied. “The orcs are stirring in the Galerrs; there have been at least a dozen attacks since the Border Legion was pulled out, and the tribes seem to have united around the patronage of a new “blood god.”
“Yeah, three guesses who that is,” Dar muttered.
“There have also been reports of a new death cult that has become active in Drusia. And in the last few weeks, there have been surges of random violence throughout Camar. There have been over a hundred murders in the capital alone, despite the additions to the ranks of the Guard...”
“The bad winter, tempers fraying,” Allera said, but she trailed off, not really believing her own statement.
“Marshal,” Dar said. “What do you want us to do?”
“You must continue with your mission,” Tiros said. “You must find the hidden access point to the demiplane where Orcus is hiding. The very fate of Camar may depend upon your success.”
“What about Talen?” Shay asked, the first words she’d spoken since Honoratius had established the connection.
“I share your feelings, Shaylara,” Tiros said. “But we must consider the good of Camar, and all its people. Talen would say the same, if he was there.”
The scout turned away, and did not respond, but her hands tightened into fists.
“We’re going to need to deal with Navev sooner or later,” Dar said. “He’s grown in power with each time we’ve faced him, and he seems to be particularly favored by old Blood and Horns.”
“The spell’s duration is nearly up,” Honoratius said, her face showing some strain as she focused her attention upon the sensor. The magical field shivered a bit before it grew steady and distinct once more.
Tiros fixed Dar with a hard stare through the sensor. “I am placing you in command of this mission, Dar. As of this moment, you have the effective rank of general.”
“Marshal, I don’t want—”
Tiros cut him off. “What we want or don’t want is pretty damned immaterial at this point, general.” The marshal rubbed his face, and his expression softed fractionally. “I am sorry. But we have very few choices left to us.”
“Sir, I don’t exactly have an army here,” Dar said, looking around at his companions.
“I am sending you what aid I can, but I cannot promise anything. Our grip on the situation here becomes more tenuous by the day.”
Dar faced the sensor with a grim look. Allera stepped up to him, and placed her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and seemed to draw strength from her eyes. After a moment, he turned back to face the older man.
“Marshal, one last question.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Have you heard anything from Varo?”
After a brief pause, the marshal shook his head. “Nothing. And I cannot say I am displeased by that fact.”
The sensor destabilized again. Honoratius almost lost it, but after a moment Tiros and Jaduran reappeared. Tiros’s voice came through to them again.
“—know that you understand what is at stake. What we ask of you is... great, it is unfair. But you are the best hope that Camar has of surviving this crisis. You must—”
The sensor abruptly vanished, cutting off the marshal’s final words.
The elves shared a long look, but said nothing.
“It would appear that the road ahead of us remains long,” Nelan said, sagging against the wall. In that moment, he looked far older than his years.
“I am going after Talen,” Shay said. “Alone, if I must.”
Dar negated her with a chop of his hand. “Damn it, Shay, we’re all going. But we can’t do squat until we find out where he is.”
“The temple...” Nelan said.
“Yeah, get your stuff, priest. We’ll camp there while you complete the ritual. Honoratius, be ready with that spell, when we get out of there.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Shay began, but Dar wheeled on her before she could complete the thought.
“If you want to go off by yourself, then I won’t stop you. But getting yourself killed won’t bring him back. And if you’re lying dead in some freaking tunnel somewhere when we need your skills, then maybe we won’t find him, either. So it’s your choice, scout.” Biting back an angry curse, the fighter grabbed his pack, and led Nelan out of the room. “Get your stuff, we’re moving,” his voice came back to them.
“We’ll find him, Shay,” Allera said. But the mood was somber as the companions gathered their possessions, and filed wordlessly after Dar and Nelan, back to the second temple of Orcus.
A NEW COMMAND
Dar’s guess had been all too correct.
“Talen’s loss is a great blow to our cause,” Velan Tiros said, his voice distorted slightly as it passed through the magical sensor that hung in the air before them. The glowing orb was a direct conduit to the tower of the Guild of Sorcery in Camar, but it only allowed them to see and hear through it; it was not an actual gateway between the two locations. Tiros’s form shimmered and shifted slightly as he spoke, like a reflection viewed in a pond. “But events have made our situation more grim, colonel. The town of Albrith has been completely destroyed. The quake was just the latest of several that have hit the region, but it was the most damaging, focused almost directly on the town. The chasm that swallowed Albrith is now over a hundred feet across and almost a mile long. Honoratius confirmed that the quake was not natural in origin.”
“I scried the site,” the archmage said, “and the lingering auras there were extremely... potent.”
“How many people were killed?” Nelan asked, his face pale.
The new Patriarch, Decius Jaduran, looked almost shrunken in the heavy white robe of his office. The aged priest replied, “Our latest estimates are just under four hundred dead. But many are still missing, or otherwise unaccounted for.”
“It would seem that the demon prince is testing its power,” Selanthas said.
“Why wouldn’t it just attack Camar?” Dar asked.
“Honoratius?” Tiros said.
“I am not certain, but I believe that the demon’s touch upon our world is still tenuous,” the archmage said. “These impacts may not even be deliberate, but merely side effects of its efforts to gain a firm presence upon this Prime. As it grows stronger, the effects will grow more pronounced.”
“We’ve destroyed two temples,” Allera said. “Shouldn’t its power be growing weaker, not stronger?”
“The completion of the ritual and the sundering of the Sphere of Souls brought Orcus almost fully into our world,” Honoratius said. “We can weaken the demon by destroying the temples, but it will ultimately pass fully into the Prime, unless it is confronted and destroyed. Once it is fully here, it will rapidly grow in power, as it feeds upon the life energies of our rich world.”
“You had said it was hiding in some plane thing,” Dar said.
“A demiplane,” Honoratius explained. “An artificial reality halfway between the Prime Material and the Abyss. The demon had to expend a considerable amount of power to make the transition from the Abyss. It will gather its strength, and then make the final passage into our world.”
“And when it gets here?” Allera asked.
There was no reply. On the other side of the sensor, Tiros looked grave.
“Have there been any more undead attacks, marshal?” Dar asked.
“Only a few scattered incidents. But there has been a rash of disasters since you left Camar, and the people are increasingly fearful. Midwinter has long since passed, but winter keeps an iron clutch over the land. We have done what we can, but hunger is becoming a problem in the cities. Pestilence has ravaged both the human and animal kingdoms. In some areas as many as half of all domesticated animals have died, badly, covered in oozing boils, their carcasses suitable only for the fire. A plague broke out in Dalemar; a not uncommon occurance in a city under siege, but I have never seen nor heard of such an occurance in the depths of winter. There have been reports of thousands dead, with corpses lying frozen in the streets. Despite this, Livius has refused to sue for peace, and if anything his raids have grown more aggressive. Conditions in our legion camps outside the city are... grim, even with the bulk of our forces redeployed further south.”
“Damn that stubborn bastard,” Dar said.
“Do you believe that these events are connected to what is happening in Rappan Athuk?” Nelan asked.
“I can grant credit to the occasional coincidence, ser priest, but there are just too many troubles coming at once,” Tiros replied. “The orcs are stirring in the Galerrs; there have been at least a dozen attacks since the Border Legion was pulled out, and the tribes seem to have united around the patronage of a new “blood god.”
“Yeah, three guesses who that is,” Dar muttered.
“There have also been reports of a new death cult that has become active in Drusia. And in the last few weeks, there have been surges of random violence throughout Camar. There have been over a hundred murders in the capital alone, despite the additions to the ranks of the Guard...”
“The bad winter, tempers fraying,” Allera said, but she trailed off, not really believing her own statement.
“Marshal,” Dar said. “What do you want us to do?”
“You must continue with your mission,” Tiros said. “You must find the hidden access point to the demiplane where Orcus is hiding. The very fate of Camar may depend upon your success.”
“What about Talen?” Shay asked, the first words she’d spoken since Honoratius had established the connection.
“I share your feelings, Shaylara,” Tiros said. “But we must consider the good of Camar, and all its people. Talen would say the same, if he was there.”
The scout turned away, and did not respond, but her hands tightened into fists.
“We’re going to need to deal with Navev sooner or later,” Dar said. “He’s grown in power with each time we’ve faced him, and he seems to be particularly favored by old Blood and Horns.”
“The spell’s duration is nearly up,” Honoratius said, her face showing some strain as she focused her attention upon the sensor. The magical field shivered a bit before it grew steady and distinct once more.
Tiros fixed Dar with a hard stare through the sensor. “I am placing you in command of this mission, Dar. As of this moment, you have the effective rank of general.”
“Marshal, I don’t want—”
Tiros cut him off. “What we want or don’t want is pretty damned immaterial at this point, general.” The marshal rubbed his face, and his expression softed fractionally. “I am sorry. But we have very few choices left to us.”
“Sir, I don’t exactly have an army here,” Dar said, looking around at his companions.
“I am sending you what aid I can, but I cannot promise anything. Our grip on the situation here becomes more tenuous by the day.”
Dar faced the sensor with a grim look. Allera stepped up to him, and placed her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and seemed to draw strength from her eyes. After a moment, he turned back to face the older man.
“Marshal, one last question.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Have you heard anything from Varo?”
After a brief pause, the marshal shook his head. “Nothing. And I cannot say I am displeased by that fact.”
The sensor destabilized again. Honoratius almost lost it, but after a moment Tiros and Jaduran reappeared. Tiros’s voice came through to them again.
“—know that you understand what is at stake. What we ask of you is... great, it is unfair. But you are the best hope that Camar has of surviving this crisis. You must—”
The sensor abruptly vanished, cutting off the marshal’s final words.
The elves shared a long look, but said nothing.
“It would appear that the road ahead of us remains long,” Nelan said, sagging against the wall. In that moment, he looked far older than his years.
“I am going after Talen,” Shay said. “Alone, if I must.”
Dar negated her with a chop of his hand. “Damn it, Shay, we’re all going. But we can’t do squat until we find out where he is.”
“The temple...” Nelan said.
“Yeah, get your stuff, priest. We’ll camp there while you complete the ritual. Honoratius, be ready with that spell, when we get out of there.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Shay began, but Dar wheeled on her before she could complete the thought.
“If you want to go off by yourself, then I won’t stop you. But getting yourself killed won’t bring him back. And if you’re lying dead in some freaking tunnel somewhere when we need your skills, then maybe we won’t find him, either. So it’s your choice, scout.” Biting back an angry curse, the fighter grabbed his pack, and led Nelan out of the room. “Get your stuff, we’re moving,” his voice came back to them.
“We’ll find him, Shay,” Allera said. But the mood was somber as the companions gathered their possessions, and filed wordlessly after Dar and Nelan, back to the second temple of Orcus.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 257
A NEW CHAMPION
As Dar took over the leadership of the Doomed Bastards, the most powerful surviving cleric of Orcus in Rappan Athuk was lying in a plush bed in a fit of delirium.
His name was Hesperix. It was clear that the man was far from well. His naked body was covered with the marks of torture, and while most of the wounds had faded to ugly scars, they were fresh enough to indicate that the experience had been relatively recent. His right hand was just a fleshy knob, the fingers having been removed. Symbols had been cut into his flesh, and those injuries seemed unwilling to fully heal, leaving garish red marks upon his body.
But the torment suffered by the cleric was more spiritual than physical, and terrible noises came from the bed as he clawed at the sheets in the midst of his feverish slumber. The bed, like the rest of the chamber, had once been opulently furnished, but now old blood and filth marred the linens. Hesperix’s hair and beard were likewise matted with dirt, and his once powerful body showed clear evidence of ongoing neglect and decay.
A large part of the man’s suffering came from reliving the events that had led to his fall.
Hesperix had once been a rising star in the hierarchy of the cult of Orcus. Gifted with considerable personal talents that were married to both a considerable creativity and a suave ruthlessness, he had risen to the rank of priest after a remarkably short time as an acolyte. Unfortunately for him, that very success had made his superiors uncomfortable, and it took only a very minor political gaffe to draw the ire of Zehn, who had banished him to the Talon.
Technically, it had been an important assignment, and had given Hesperix charge of his own temple. The Talon of Orcus warded the Bloodways, and its proximity to both Grezneck and an exit to the surface gave the temple a certain strategic importance. The place had its own complement of priests and acolytes, several potent guardians, and its own fully-stocked torture chamber. But the Talon was likewise isolated, far from the main temples that were linked to the Master. Hesperix had been sent to take charge of the Talon, and had been quickly forgotten by most of the followers of Orcus.
Forgotten by most, but not all.
He’d never liked Theron. The two of them had served together as acolytes, but Hesperix had never been impressed with the other’s abilities. Their rivalry had also included a romantic angle, as both men had competed for the affections of Celeen, and in the end the woman had (inexplicably, to Hesperix’s thinking) chosen the other. He’d always suspected that Theron had been the one who’d reported on his private negotiations with Aldeth’s minions, the indiscretion that had focused Zehn’s ire upon him.
So Hesperix had not responded favorably when Theron’s embassy, a hobgoblin fighter-priest accompanied by two guards, had suddenly arrived unannounced at the Talon. His ire had grown to astonishment when he had been presented with the other cleric’s demands. Not only was he to turn over all of his prisoners, captives he had personally broken over long and tedious weeks in the torture chamber, but he was also supposed to just give Theron command of all eight of his senior priests!
He’d responded in what he’d judged to be a measured fashion, sending a polite response engraved on the flayed hide of the hobgoblin, in the custody of the two guards. Between the two of them, he’d left an eye and an ear, surely enough for them to find their way back to the Slave Pits to deliver his reply.
He’d expected a response, but when it had come it had taken him completely by surprise. Theron himself had come, with Celeen at his side, and accompanied by those sycophantic wretches he surrounded himself with, Tibor, Relnek, and Phesor. They hadn’t even brought any guards with them.
As it happened, they’d had no need for them.
Hesperix had been astonished by the power wielded by his rival and his followers. Theron had commanded a power that dwarfed even what Gudmund could muster. And Orcus had clearly favored him; Hesperix’s undead guards had refused his commands to attack, and even the blood golems had retreated before the might of the dark priest. Hesperix’s own clerics had obeyed his orders and had attacked, perhaps realizing that they would share in the culpability of their leader. Their spells and weapons had worked, but they had been utterly outclassed, and had been quickly overcome. And the Seer, of course, had been worse than useless, retreating to his private sanctum as soon as the intruders had arrived.
Theron was grimly thorough in his chastisement of the Talon’s defiant leader. He’d been forced to watch while his acolytes were violated, put to death in his own torture chamber, and raised as zombies. His priests were led away in irons to a no doubt unpleasant fate in the Pits, along with all of his hard-won prisoners. He’d been left one servant, the priest Calexes, but it was doubtful how much utility the man would possess with his fingers, tongue, and manhood removed.
Hesperix himself had been left mostly intact. Theron had taken the fingers of his right hand himself. He’d taken Dacris, either not knowing or not caring about the weapon’s special property. But Hesperix hadn’t even bothered to call it back. The raid had broken him, as neatly and effectively as he had broken the prisoners formerly in his charge. Theron hadn’t even bothered trying to extract the location of his hidden vault from him, and likewise he hadn’t troubled the Seer. The clerics had taken their prizes and just left him lying there on the floor of the temple, naked and bleeding.
Since the raid on the Talon, Hesperix had lost track of the passage of time. On a few occasions he’d become aware of loud noises out in the temple; most likely incursions from the Bloodways that had made it past the wards. Either the golems had handled them, or not; he’d ceased caring. He occasionally went out into the temple, but neglected the rites and all of the other duties of the place. Calexes, if he even still lived, avoided him; the Seer appeared before him once, but had given him nothing but a mocking stare.
He had felt the surges of power that had shaken Rappan Athuk to its core. But while he had wondered at them, his curiosity had not been enough to shake his apathy. He had not even prayed for spells since the attack; there seemed to be no point, as he lacked the power to restore his hand.
At some point he stirred. He pulled himself out of his bed, and almost absently grabbed a soiled cloak to cover himself. The fallen priest made his way out into the temple.
The place was quiet and empty. The unchanging permanence of the place was reassuring. Hesperix shuffled forward, but when he came to the open space in front of the altar and the massive statue behind it, he came to a stop.
He stared up at the statue for several minutes. The black stone was highlighted by a red glow that shone down from the ceiling, as it always had. Nothing stirred.
Finally, Hesperix fell to his knees. His cloak fell away, forgotten. A deep croaking sound issued from his body. The noises only gradually became comprehensible words.
“Yes... yes... yes, Master... I serve!”
The cleric looked down at the stump of his right hand. As his face glowed with a paroxysm of ecstasy, he spoke words of power, and the fingers of the limb regrew, the entire hand becoming intact again within seconds.
Hesperix spoke another word, and Dacris appeared in his hand. The power of the unholy scythe flowed through him, tendrils of black vapor twisting around the semi-substantial blade of inky darkness.
Behind him, the outer doors of the temple swung open. Hesperix rose, using the long haft of the scythe to help support himself. He slowly turned to face the creature that entered the place. Within the basin before the entry, the blood golems stirred, but they did not attack; they recognized the newcomer as one of theirs.
The intruder moved around the pool. It was carrying something bulky; as it moved deeper into the temple Hesperix recognized it as the corpse of a man. The body was in fairly good shape; Hesperix had a good eye for such details, and he could tell that it hadn’t been dead long. The cleric waited until the creature came before him.
Zafir Navev dropped the body it carried to the floor. “The Master has sent me here,” he said.
Hesperix let out an exultant breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I know,” the cleric said, his soul and his will restored to what they had been... and more.
A NEW CHAMPION
As Dar took over the leadership of the Doomed Bastards, the most powerful surviving cleric of Orcus in Rappan Athuk was lying in a plush bed in a fit of delirium.
His name was Hesperix. It was clear that the man was far from well. His naked body was covered with the marks of torture, and while most of the wounds had faded to ugly scars, they were fresh enough to indicate that the experience had been relatively recent. His right hand was just a fleshy knob, the fingers having been removed. Symbols had been cut into his flesh, and those injuries seemed unwilling to fully heal, leaving garish red marks upon his body.
But the torment suffered by the cleric was more spiritual than physical, and terrible noises came from the bed as he clawed at the sheets in the midst of his feverish slumber. The bed, like the rest of the chamber, had once been opulently furnished, but now old blood and filth marred the linens. Hesperix’s hair and beard were likewise matted with dirt, and his once powerful body showed clear evidence of ongoing neglect and decay.
A large part of the man’s suffering came from reliving the events that had led to his fall.
Hesperix had once been a rising star in the hierarchy of the cult of Orcus. Gifted with considerable personal talents that were married to both a considerable creativity and a suave ruthlessness, he had risen to the rank of priest after a remarkably short time as an acolyte. Unfortunately for him, that very success had made his superiors uncomfortable, and it took only a very minor political gaffe to draw the ire of Zehn, who had banished him to the Talon.
Technically, it had been an important assignment, and had given Hesperix charge of his own temple. The Talon of Orcus warded the Bloodways, and its proximity to both Grezneck and an exit to the surface gave the temple a certain strategic importance. The place had its own complement of priests and acolytes, several potent guardians, and its own fully-stocked torture chamber. But the Talon was likewise isolated, far from the main temples that were linked to the Master. Hesperix had been sent to take charge of the Talon, and had been quickly forgotten by most of the followers of Orcus.
Forgotten by most, but not all.
He’d never liked Theron. The two of them had served together as acolytes, but Hesperix had never been impressed with the other’s abilities. Their rivalry had also included a romantic angle, as both men had competed for the affections of Celeen, and in the end the woman had (inexplicably, to Hesperix’s thinking) chosen the other. He’d always suspected that Theron had been the one who’d reported on his private negotiations with Aldeth’s minions, the indiscretion that had focused Zehn’s ire upon him.
So Hesperix had not responded favorably when Theron’s embassy, a hobgoblin fighter-priest accompanied by two guards, had suddenly arrived unannounced at the Talon. His ire had grown to astonishment when he had been presented with the other cleric’s demands. Not only was he to turn over all of his prisoners, captives he had personally broken over long and tedious weeks in the torture chamber, but he was also supposed to just give Theron command of all eight of his senior priests!
He’d responded in what he’d judged to be a measured fashion, sending a polite response engraved on the flayed hide of the hobgoblin, in the custody of the two guards. Between the two of them, he’d left an eye and an ear, surely enough for them to find their way back to the Slave Pits to deliver his reply.
He’d expected a response, but when it had come it had taken him completely by surprise. Theron himself had come, with Celeen at his side, and accompanied by those sycophantic wretches he surrounded himself with, Tibor, Relnek, and Phesor. They hadn’t even brought any guards with them.
As it happened, they’d had no need for them.
Hesperix had been astonished by the power wielded by his rival and his followers. Theron had commanded a power that dwarfed even what Gudmund could muster. And Orcus had clearly favored him; Hesperix’s undead guards had refused his commands to attack, and even the blood golems had retreated before the might of the dark priest. Hesperix’s own clerics had obeyed his orders and had attacked, perhaps realizing that they would share in the culpability of their leader. Their spells and weapons had worked, but they had been utterly outclassed, and had been quickly overcome. And the Seer, of course, had been worse than useless, retreating to his private sanctum as soon as the intruders had arrived.
Theron was grimly thorough in his chastisement of the Talon’s defiant leader. He’d been forced to watch while his acolytes were violated, put to death in his own torture chamber, and raised as zombies. His priests were led away in irons to a no doubt unpleasant fate in the Pits, along with all of his hard-won prisoners. He’d been left one servant, the priest Calexes, but it was doubtful how much utility the man would possess with his fingers, tongue, and manhood removed.
Hesperix himself had been left mostly intact. Theron had taken the fingers of his right hand himself. He’d taken Dacris, either not knowing or not caring about the weapon’s special property. But Hesperix hadn’t even bothered to call it back. The raid had broken him, as neatly and effectively as he had broken the prisoners formerly in his charge. Theron hadn’t even bothered trying to extract the location of his hidden vault from him, and likewise he hadn’t troubled the Seer. The clerics had taken their prizes and just left him lying there on the floor of the temple, naked and bleeding.
Since the raid on the Talon, Hesperix had lost track of the passage of time. On a few occasions he’d become aware of loud noises out in the temple; most likely incursions from the Bloodways that had made it past the wards. Either the golems had handled them, or not; he’d ceased caring. He occasionally went out into the temple, but neglected the rites and all of the other duties of the place. Calexes, if he even still lived, avoided him; the Seer appeared before him once, but had given him nothing but a mocking stare.
He had felt the surges of power that had shaken Rappan Athuk to its core. But while he had wondered at them, his curiosity had not been enough to shake his apathy. He had not even prayed for spells since the attack; there seemed to be no point, as he lacked the power to restore his hand.
At some point he stirred. He pulled himself out of his bed, and almost absently grabbed a soiled cloak to cover himself. The fallen priest made his way out into the temple.
The place was quiet and empty. The unchanging permanence of the place was reassuring. Hesperix shuffled forward, but when he came to the open space in front of the altar and the massive statue behind it, he came to a stop.
He stared up at the statue for several minutes. The black stone was highlighted by a red glow that shone down from the ceiling, as it always had. Nothing stirred.
Finally, Hesperix fell to his knees. His cloak fell away, forgotten. A deep croaking sound issued from his body. The noises only gradually became comprehensible words.
“Yes... yes... yes, Master... I serve!”
The cleric looked down at the stump of his right hand. As his face glowed with a paroxysm of ecstasy, he spoke words of power, and the fingers of the limb regrew, the entire hand becoming intact again within seconds.
Hesperix spoke another word, and Dacris appeared in his hand. The power of the unholy scythe flowed through him, tendrils of black vapor twisting around the semi-substantial blade of inky darkness.
Behind him, the outer doors of the temple swung open. Hesperix rose, using the long haft of the scythe to help support himself. He slowly turned to face the creature that entered the place. Within the basin before the entry, the blood golems stirred, but they did not attack; they recognized the newcomer as one of theirs.
The intruder moved around the pool. It was carrying something bulky; as it moved deeper into the temple Hesperix recognized it as the corpse of a man. The body was in fairly good shape; Hesperix had a good eye for such details, and he could tell that it hadn’t been dead long. The cleric waited until the creature came before him.
Zafir Navev dropped the body it carried to the floor. “The Master has sent me here,” he said.
Hesperix let out an exultant breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I know,” the cleric said, his soul and his will restored to what they had been... and more.
