Ah, who am I kidding? I can't be that cruel...
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Author’s Note: the characters of Storm and Grim are not mentioned in the following excerpt. The former’s player was unable to make this week’s game, and the latter’s player has been MIA for the past three weeks.
Time until the Age of Worms: T-3 days.
Dead in Starmantle: 1,800 souls
The League members passed the night in Tempus’ house, tending to the needs of the refugees gathered there. Throughout the evening, the acolytes and priests would periodically return from their sojourns into the dying city, bringing with them more lost souls. By morning, the Mansions were filled to capacity, and the church as well. Grubber and Mak prayed silently before the altar, each revering their own patron while taking advantage of the hallowed ground of Tempus. Faust also sat quietly, though in meditation, not prayer. Giovanni and Hawk were busy readying their gear when Lanthis approached them.
“So what will you do know?” the priest asked.
Hawk looked at him with his piercing blue eyes, his gaze one of pure determination. “The only thing left to do,” the civilar replied. Lanthis drew in a long sigh, and then nodded his shaved head.
“You go to the Spire.” He raised his eyes to meet Hawk’s. “Though we do not share the same faith, I am honored to call you brother, and if you should fall and your mission fail, your name, and those of your companions, will be spoken with awe and admiration for years to come. May the Lord of Battle bless you this day.” Hawk gripped the man’s hand, then lifted his pack and turned for the door. The others joined him, and Mak and Grubber began weaving a plethora of protective wards about the group. With a mental shrug, Faust willed his form into one of shadow stuff, while Havok disappeared from view entirely. The League then gathered in a circle about the psion, and then they were gone.
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The massive spire towered more than seven-hundred feet into the air. Its foundation was a squat, stone ziggurat, with the monolith itself consisting of a three-segmented tower of granite topped by a cylindrical, greenish spire bristling with protruding balconies. Green bolts of electricity danced on pyramidal obelisks mounted on the balconies, and the churning clouds danced around the spire’s peak like the dying waters of an ocean draining into Hell. The base of the ziggurat bore four large archways, one on each face, and it was in front of the east-facing of these that the League appeared. With no fear, and no hesitation, they moved towards the pyramid’s interior. As they passed beneath the arch, a strange ululation filled the air from somewhere above.
A forty-foot high colonnade opened into an atrium beyond the arch. Two twelve-foot high statues of Kyuss in all his worm-eaten glory stood on large daises at the sides of a second archway that led to a central chamber. This chamber was illuminated by dozens of crystal lanterns affixed to the walls, and by faint rays of light that penetrated from ducts in the walls under an almost thirty-foot high vault. A canopied shrine stood in the middle of the chamber, its circular altar decorated by multitudes of lit candles. Immediately, Faust’s and Mak’s magic-enhanced senses allowed them to see two shadowy figures crouched behind tall pillars in the atrium, while two other beings, these in heavy armor, stood motionless in darkened alcoves. Simultaneously, Havok’s mail coat began whispering to him that the living dead were all about. Yet all these things were not what immediately caught the attention of the League, for standing before the altar, arms raised high, was none other than Lashonna. She was dressed in a fashionable green velvet gown embroidered with dozens of red gemstones. Standing in a loose semicircle around her where three of the Blessed Angels, their piercing, red eyes locked on the new arrivals. At that moment, Lashonna turned, a cruel and haughty smile of contempt on her beautiful face.
“Ah, the conquering heroes,” she laughed. “I do owe you a great debt. Your removal of that dusty, tired dracolich was just the distraction I needed to bring our Great Lord’s prison to its final resting place. Since I always repay my debts, I make each of you this offer: kneel now and submit to the Wormgod, and I promise you that you shall each become a captain in Kyuss’ army, answering only to me!”
As she spoke, each member of the League felt her words tickling subtly at their minds, suggesting to them that she was a friend to be trusted implicitly. Fortunately Mak had anticipated just such a tactic. He had rendered the minds of each of his companions, and himself, a blank slate to any mental intrusion. Lashonna’s ploy was a wasted effort. Yet even so, the League members felt a crushing sense of despair emanating from the very air and walls around them. Kyuss was near, and his power was incalculable. When none of them responded to her offer, Lashonna’s smile became cold and brittle.
“So it is to be war then,” At that moment, a torrent of green worms began writhing from the ground before each statue of Kyuss. Within seconds, each condensed and transformed into a large, fiendish brute with wicked-looking horns protruding from its brow.
Calmly, almost casually, Havok pulled a scroll from his cloak. Time slowed to a crawl around him. The warlock’s battle tactics were elegant in their simplicity, if a bit routine by now. However, if a plan worked, why change it? This time he employed the same strategy he’d used for Dragotha. If it could slay one undead dragon, why not another? First, though, he decided to see to his own safety. Using the magic in one of his two staves, he rendered his body incorporeal, as well as invisible. Then he encased Lashonna and her three fiendish lackeys in a barred cage of pure force. After that, it was only a matter of filling the interior of the cage with criss-crossing walls of eldritch, green flame, with most of them intersecting right where the vampiress stood. When the flow of Time resumed, Lashonna screamed as her gown caught fire, and writhing worms of flame seared her flesh. The Blessed Angels turned towards their mistress, unsure of what was happening. One moment they had been preparing to take apart the interlopers, and the next they were engulfed in emerald fire on all sides. Though the she-devils felt no pain from the heat of the walls, the eldritch energy that powered them scorched even their hell-touched flesh.
‘I’ve got her on the ropes,’ Havok spoke through the Mindlink, ‘now I suggest everyone target her with everything you’ve got. We need to finish her quickly!’
Grubber immediately began casting, but as he called upon Grumbar’s righteous wrath, he felt a mental barrier slam shut in his mind. Instantly, the spell was snuffed out. Cursing, the goliath called upon another prayer, this time sending a whirlwind made of shards of force throughout the chamber. Again he felt the barrier, but this time, with great effort, he pushed past it. Lashonna and her minions were caught by the force of the barrage, and one of the beings which lurked in the shadows of a nearby pillow simply evaporated into a plume of mist. It seemed Lashonna was not the only vampire present.
Seeing the effects that Havok’s walls were having on Lashonna, Mak knew she was not protected against fire as her minions were. He spoke the words to a powerful prayer, and great sheets of fire began sweeping the room. The second concealed vampire quickly tumbled from his cover, rolling and somersaulting like a dervish, evading the fires with supernatural speed. The creature rolled to its feet right next to Mak and attempted to wrestle the goliath’s sword from his hands. With a great shove, Mak through the creature back, just as a great explosion shook the chamber. A massive fire ball erupted around Lashonna’s prison, and as it dissipated, the vampiress’ body faded into mist and began flowing towards one of the archways at the opposite side of the ziggurat.
‘Is that what you had in mind?’ Faust sneered to Havok.
‘More or less,’ the warlock answered, ‘though she’s getting away, which I don’t intend on seeing happen.’
Just then, there was sudden movement around the perimeter of the central chamber. From each of the other three arches emerged a pair of shadowy vampires, almost blurs of motion, so fast were they. Lumbering behind each of these groups, came a pair of Kyuss knights, their eye worms writhing and snapping. Meanwhile, one of the horned devils in front of the League slammed both its hands together. A concussion of energy swept past the heroes, and from thin air, a third devil appeared. Simultaneously, all three of the Blessed Angels disappeared from inside Havok’s makeshift prison, only to reappear in the midst of the League, with two flanking Faust, and one facing Grubber. She seemed very familiar to the goliath, and her smirk showed that she was acquainted with him as well.
“Why don’t we finish what we started when last we met?” she purred.
“Now things are finally getting interesting,” Faust replied, an evil grin on his ugly face.
A second scroll appeared in Havok’s hands, and once again, Time slowed. The warlock streaked across the large chamber to where Lashonna’s misty form hovered in mid-air. When he reached her, he used another scroll to erect a second force cage, this one solid, and only large enough to contain himself and the vampire. Finally, he unfurled the handkerchief-like portable hole on the ground below him, and then drew the simple, wire talisman from his belt. Concentrating, he called to the sphere of nothingness secreted inside the hole.
Faust was starting to enjoy himself. Sighting along a straight line, he mentally tore a rift to the Positive energy plain, creating a conduit that pierced two of the horned devils, one of the approaching vampires, and the Blessed Angel that stood directly in front of him. With very satisfying screams, the horned devils disintegrated, and the vampire became mist. Though pain etched the face of the erinyes, the smile never left her lips. Raising her sword, she slashed at Faust, striking like a cobra. To the psion’s amazement and surprise, her blade actually struck him…and it hurt. Then, from behind, her sister also attacked. In his shadowed form Faust was not capable of bleeding, but his wounds gaped like mouths, and they burned like a brand. An unfamiliar emotion began to tickle the back of the élan’s mind…fear.
Grubber rapidly spoke the words to another prayer, and instantly his body began to glow with celestial light, as bright as the sun. The vampires hissed, and shielded their eyes, while the last horned devil simply collapsed into a pile of ash. At that moment, the angel before him lunged. Her sword cut deeply into the goliath’s side, and he hissed in pain. Pushing through the wall that still tried to block his magic, he unleashed a wave of righteous, holy power. The Blessed Angel screamed as her flesh was ripped from her bones. Three of the oncoming vampires evaporated as well, and even one of the stalking Kyuss Knights withered under the onslaught.
“Grumbar always settles his debts,” the goliath growled.
Hawk was surrounded. One of the undead knights came at him from the front, while a shadowy vampire dodged around to his flank. As the civilar turned to follow the vampire, the knight slipped past his defenses, the strange mace it carried just nicking his arm, but burning like acid where it touched his skin. The paladin whirled, catching the Kyuss spawn with his shield, then delivering three lightning-fast slashes with Quaero. The knight collapsed into a mass of writhing worms. Not pausing, Hawk turned back to the vampire, thrusting his blade into the middle of its throat. With a wet gurgle, it dissipated into smoke.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Faust jeered at the wounded erinyes in front of him. “I can fix that for you. Just come a bit closer and I promise you won’t feel any more pain.” Suddenly, the psion’s hand flared with black light, and he reached out and seized the fiend by the arm. She hissed in pain, and Faust felt her life-force flowing into him, but at the last moment, she broke free. Snarling in rage, she raised her sword again. Faust, exultant with his new-found power, never saw it coming. With one stroke, the Blessed Angel separated the psion’s head from his shoulders. Without a sound, Faust fell to the floor. For an instant, time seemed to stand still for his companions, for they all felt the Mindlink suddenly severed, and knew it could only mean one thing. Faust was dead.
A moment later, the collective look of shock on the faces of the League members turned to one of horror. The psion’s body quickly reverted to its natural state, but then just as rapidly, it began to putrefy. The flesh began to shrivel and blacken, and the eyes of the disembodied head collapsed in on themselves, only to be replaced a moment later by writhing green worms. Slowly, with a sickening creak of rotten sinew, Faust sat up, one hand reaching out absently to collect his head and hold it cradled in the crook of his arm. He climbed jerkily to his feet, a horrible grin splitting his skull-like face.
“Helm’s blood,” Hawk whispered, gazing at the abomination his friend had become, somehow tainted by the proximity of the Wormgod.
“Not only his,” laughed the erinyes who had decapitated the psion, “but the blood of all of your so-called gods shall soon stain this world!” With a shriek, she flew at Grubber, her blade seeking his neck, but the goliath brought up one mailed fist, deflecting the deadly blow, but suffering a deep score for his effort.
Havok watched the terrible tableau with the same sense of revulsion as his companions, but being a warlock by birth, he had been cursed with visions of darkness all his life, and he had learned to live with horror. He was also nothing if not pragmatic, and he knew what Faust would do if their situations were reversed. Almost as an afterthought, he willed the floating sphere of darkness at the trapped, mist-form of Lashonna. The centuries old vampire simple ceased to be. In the next moment, Havok moved the sphere to the wall of the force cage, obliterating it as well. Then he called aloud to his friends: “Kill him! Now, before it’s too late! He’ll kill us all if you don’t!
Tears of rage and frustration filled Grubber’s eyes as he heard the truth in Havok’s words. The Faust he had known was gone. This creature was not his friend, but it still had the deadly powers the psion had possessed at its command, and it would not hesitate to bring them to bear, given the chance. It served a new master now. Choking out the words to a prayer, the goliath priest brought down a hammer-blow of righteous, holy power on the Kyuss spawn. From behind him, Grubber heard his brother begin his own prayer. Once more a Fire Storm swept through the chamber, incinerating all of the remaining vampires. Faust, however, dove to one side, unscathed, and rolled to his feet, never dropping his severed head. Unfortunately, he came to his feet directly in front of Hawk.
“Sorry, old friend,” the civilar said, “but I know you’d do the same for me.” With that, he plunged Quaero into the undead psion’s chest, and straight out the other side. A sigh, which might have been contentment, came from Faust, and then he disintegrated into a pile of green dust.
“Aren’t the bonds of friendship touching, sister?” one of the Blessed Angels asked the other.
“Truly,” her companion nodded. “Let us see if we cannot reunite them with their fallen comrade.” Then they both gazed, smiling into the open air beyond the archway. A rush of wind whipped their red tresses about their faces, and the ululation the League members had heard earlier came again, only this time much closer. A sickening, greenish brown mist began to form just beyond the arch, accompanied by the sound of flapping wings and heavy bodies hitting the ground. Mak’s magic-enhanced vision allowed him to pierce the gathering mist and see the monstrosities hidden within. Broodfiends. Three of them. Simultaneously, all of the demons opened their huge maws, and spewed forth torrents of acid. The caustic sprays washed over Hawk, Grubber and Mak, but also engulfed both of the erinyes, and several of the Kyuss knights. One of the she-devils screamed in agony as she realized that her supposed-saviors were now her destroyers. She dissolved into a gory pool of liquefied flesh.
Grubber quickly began a prayer of healing that encompassed himself and his companions, mending their horrible burns. The positive energy of the spell, however, proved lethal to a nearby pair of Kyuss knights, and they exploded under the onslaught. Two more stepped up to take their place. The disgusting worms that occupied their eye sockets lashed out, biting into the flesh of both Grubber and his brother. Each of them felt their minds grow dull and muzzy. Then, a sizzling chain of eldritch fire arced between the two knights, burning them instantly to ash. Grubber lashed out instinctively, a deadly storm of power-filled shards slashing the last remaining knight into shreds. He then began staggering away from the broodfiends, trying to put some distance between himself and them just as Hawk charged forward to engage the new, deadly foes. Grubber’s dulled wits turned out to be his undoing. He forgot about the prodigious reach of the broodfiends’ worm-like tentacles, and one of them latched onto him as he retreated. Blinding pain filled his head, and he collapsed bonelessly to the ground.
“Grubber?” Mak shouted as he watched his brother die. He had taken two steps towards his fallen sibling, when he saw Grubber twitch once, and then jerk upright into a sitting position. There were worms were his eyes had been.
“No!!” Mak shouted, furiously. He whirled towards the broodfiends, but as he did, a second tentacle struck like a coiled viper, covering his face. The winged goliath jittered and twitched as the demon fed on his psyche, and then dropped his lifeless husk to the floor. A moment later, he and his brother were reunited.
Hawk saw it all happen in the blink of an eye, yet he never paused in his attack. Quaero ripped into the nearest broodfiend with a bloodlust to match its master. The demon shuddered briefly under the assault, but then it steadied itself and retaliated. Three times it struck the civilar, and each time Hawk felt his mind fading. He could barely remember his own name, or what he was doing in this place. Pure instinct kept his sword arm swinging.
Havok’s battle-hardened resolve was starting to crack. He watched, momentarily stunned as the creatures that had been Mak and Grubber began shambling towards Hawk, who was battling for his life. How could things have gone so wrong so fast? Had they come so far, so close only to know all of their efforts had been in vain? No. He would never accept that. He was a scion of Kyuss, and he knew that fate and destiny had brought him to this moment in time for a reason. He had been chosen, and the balance that had been shifted fifteen-hundred years earlier was going to be restored…starting here and now. Not pausing to think about the consequences of his actions, the warlock lashed out. Eldritch energy coursed between Mak and Grubber, burning the taint of Kyuss from them as quickly as it burned the flesh from their bones.
Hawk was confused. Why was Havok attacking Mak and Grubber? Why did his mind feel so clouded? He was tired…so tired. He needed to rest…just lie down for a few minutes and clear his head. He needed to go home. Absently, he reached up and touched one of the relief carvings on his helm…and then he disappeared.
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The last remaining Blessed Angel, Dahlia by name, stared at the now-empty battlefield. She wasn’t sure what had killed the goliaths, but she assumed it must have been some magic possessed by the paladin. A last, futile gesture before he fled. She was sure there had been another of the mortals, but perhaps she was mistaken. No matter, if there was another, he had wisely fled as well. Let him hide while he still could. When her mistresses’ plan finally came to fruition and Kyuss was free, she and her other sisters would engage in a great, fine hunt, until they had flushed out and killed every pathetic mortal in this wretched city. For now, though, she planned on availing herself of the spoils of battle. Mentally, she ordered the broodfiends to begin the salvage.
All of this Havok witnessed, incorporeal, and invisible. Hidden from the eyes of his foes. He waited until they were engrossed in their ill-gotten booty, and then he uttered a word of command. The boots that he wore suddenly accelerated him through the time stream. Calling the sphere to him again, he sent it towards the nearest broodfiend. When the temporal acceleration ended, the demon had a split-second to register its imminent destruction. Then it was gone.
The remaining broodfiends saw their brother vanish, and the orb of darkness which had taken him. With a thought, they attuned their senses to see things that were hidden, even things which might be on the Ethereal. Then both of them drew in deep breaths, and held it, ceasing to exhale the noxious mists which constantly surrounded them, clearing the air around them. It was then that they finally beheld the warlock. Dahlia saw him as well, now that the cloying mists were gone. Quickly, she sent a ripping claw of black energy at her enemy, and Havok felt the magic tear into his incorporeal flesh. He didn’t let it break his concentration, however, and the last thing Dahlia ever saw was the rapidly approaching orb of death.
The broodfiends saw their chance. With the deadly sphere out of the way, they had a clear path to the human. Both of them roared, charging ahead in a rage. Their tentacles struck, and Havok felt their bite. White light flashed in his head, and he lost all coherent thought. Reflexively he called the sphere to him, and it passed right through one of the demons as it came, wiping it from existence. Still in mental agony, the warlock struck out again and again and again with his eldritch powers, green fire enveloping his world.
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“Why have you returned so soon, paladin? Where are your companions?”
Hawk stared up at the giant angel in bewilderment, not comprehending the nature of the question. Gabriel sighed, looking at Lanthis.
“His mind has been afflicted,” the solar said. “ It is easily remedied.” He laid one large hand upon Hawk’s brow, and the civilar’s eyes lost their fog. Everything came flooding back to him.
“No…oh no!” he shouted, realizing what had happened, and that he had abandoned Havok. Offering no word of explanation to the solar or Lanthis, he touched his helm again, and vanished.
When he reappeared in the central chamber of the ziggurat, the only living, or unliving creature he saw was Havok. The warlock was on his knees with his head pressed against the floor. A wand was gripped tightly in one hand.
“What is it? The word…the word!!” Havok wailed, tears streaming from his eyes. Hawk hurried over to him, and gently helped him to his feet.
“I…I know you,” the warlock said as he peered up at Hawk. “Don’t I?”
“It’s me, Hawk,” the civilar replied. “You’ve been injured.”
“I need…the word…” Havok stammered, looking down helplessly at the wand he held. Suddenly, Hawk understood. He knew that the warlock had in his possession a wand capable of restoring lost vitality, or in this case, intellect.
“No, you don’t need it,” he said. “You just need to want it to work. Concentrate. Make it work!” Havok nodded slowly, lifting the wand’s tip to his temple. He squinted his eyes shut, his face a mask of focus. Suddenly, a white flash of energy pulsed from the wand, and when he opened his eyes, Hawk could see that his mind was whole again.
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Havok stood over the pile of ash that had been Grubber. Uncorking the crystal vial he held, he carefully poured its contents over the soot. Before his and Hawk’s eyes, the dust began to stir, then rearrange itself until if formed a vaguely humanoid outline. In rapid succession bones began to form in the ash, then muscles over the bones, and finally flesh over the muscles, until at last, Grubber lay naked upon the ground. Then, with a great intake of breath, the priest opened his eyes.
Havok pulled two scrolls from his cloak, those which were given to him by Malchor when they last saw the archmage. Inscribed upon them were powerful Wish spells, and the warlock now used them to create new bodies out of the dust that had been Mak and Faust. Grubber then leaned over the psion’s body and spoke a soft prayer and breathed into his mouth. Faust’s eyes flickered open, and he looked about in momentary confusion.
“You’re only going to be with us a short time,” Grubber said, explaining that the prayer of Revanance he had performed would only restore life for a brief period. Faust nodded in understanding. The others gathered up Mak and stood near the psion. He concentrated, transporting them instantly back to the church of Tempus, where Grubber performed a second Revanance on his brother. Both Mak and Faust died again a few minutes later, allowing Grubber to perform a lesser, but more lasting spell of Revivification on both of them. With rest, they would be whole again. Against all odds, the League had survived.
