GHOSTS AND DEMONS
“Does anyone here use a bow?” Mandi asked, looking skeptically at her comrades as Sepoto examined the weapon. “No? I didn’t think so. And while we’re at it…correct me if I’m wrong here, Marius…but aren’t demons and their ilk generally unaffected by electricity?”
Marius nodded, shrugging.
“Excellent,” the sorceress muttered, looking at the Nimbus Bow with disgust. “It’s no wonder the Maztican empire became extinct. No offense, Octurus.”
“I have always felt that my people’s obstinate reliance on antiquated customs is what has kept them mired in their primitive state, the demon hunter stated.
Mandi raised an eyebrow. “My! Aren’t you the introspective savage?”
“Wanderlust took me at an early age,” Octurus replied. “I spent much time among merchants, traders, and the occasional pirate. My eyes were opened to the world beyond these shores long ago. My heart aches to see it some day.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Mandi said testily. “Well? Where do we go from here? We solved Innersol’s puzzle, and in my opinion, the priest was better off having died before he was bitterly disappointed by the conclusion of his quest. So, do we continue to explore this temple, or do we head for some of the inland pyramids?”
“I say we continue to explore here,” Sepoto answered. “If the Nimbus Bow is here, regardless of its usefulness, then perhaps the answer to our second puzzle is as well…who’s supplying the precursor shadow pearls?”
When no one countered his reasoning, the company backtracked the way they’d come, this time taking a branch passage to the west off the main hall. The corridor was relatively short, and it ended in chamber draped with cobwebs. A dozen man-sized niches occupied the north wall. Ten of the twelve contained mummified corpses propped up in a standing position. The shriveled bodies wore the rotting garb of ancient Maztican warriors, their feathered, painted shields blasted by decay and obscured by centuries-old dust. Most of them were also draped with golden masks, earrings, bracelets, pectorals, and other gem-encrusted pieces of glittering treasure. The west and east wall were dominated by ten-foot-tall bas-relief carvings of Maztican imperial warriors with ritual masks and feathered cloaks.
“This is a burial shrine,” Octurus said, a touch of tension in his voice. “It was used to inter princes of my people who died before becoming emperors.”
“Yeah, well with all due respect to your people and your rituals,” Marius said, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves, “I’ve had one-too-many encounters with the restless dead to trust any tomb. Stand back!”
Before Octurus could stop him, the warmage hurled a tiny ball of flame into the room, which instantly exploded, the conflagration engulfing all of the corpses. No sooner had the fire died, than eight ghostly Mazticans rose howling out of the floor, closely followed by a pair of giant, spectral warrior-priests who stepped out of the walls.
“I tried to warn you,” Octurus said.
“Curse you, blood traitor!” the spirits hissed at Octurus in Maztican. “You dare defile this holy place of your fathers?”
“Ancestors, hear me!” the demon hunter shouted, arms outstretched. “Forgive our trespass! We seek only the demons who have desecrated your place of rest, to make them pay for their transgression!”
“It is you who have transgressed!” the spirit warriors roared. “Though demons they be, they have shown us respect! For your lack of the same, you shall now join us in our eternal vigil!”
“It’s no use!” Octurus said, turning back to his companions. “They will not be reasoned with!”
“Then they will be destroyed,” Mandi said coldly. The Maztican’s eyes grew icy, but he understood the truth of her words. Undeath had corrupted the spirits of his forebears, and evil had taken them. He would be doing them justice by ending their torment. Mandi didn’t seem like she was waiting for his permission. Raising her hands, she wove her magic, sending a wave of apathy over the wraiths, slowing the movements of most of them. Octurus nodded his approval, and then leaped to Sepoto’s side at the front of the group, blocking the hallway so that the spirits could not attack those still behind. Drawing his blades, he stepped to meet the nearest wraith, his blades flashing like liquid light, tearing away the shadowy substance that comprised the spirit’s corporeal form. Abruptly, the two larger ghosts moved, one of them vanishing through a wall, only to appear a moment later in the hallway directly behind Mandi. Reaching out one clawed hand, it raked the sorceress, causing her flesh to pucker under its deathly cold touch. The second loomed up before Octurus, leaning its face down to his and inhaling. The hunter could feel his very soul literally being sucked out of him, and he screamed soundlessly.
Sepoto hated undead, especially the incorporeal kind. The ghostly forms made his weapon unpredictable, and made his armor a mockery. Seeing what the mere touch of one of them was doing to Octurus, the crusader quickly spoke a prayer to Savras, calling on his god to shelter his spirit. Thus warded, he moved towards Octurus just as the other wraiths surged forward.
Marius whirled towards the hulking wraith behind him, a spell on his lips as he moved. A glowing sphere of pure force appeared in his hand, and he hurled it at the spirit. As it impacted, the wraith shrieked as the energy of the spell penetrated into the ethereal plane where it was most vulnerable.
The spirit warriors attacked, wailing and cursing as they came. Two clawed and rake at Octurus, sending the chill of the grave through his skin, but, mercifully, stealing no more of his life force. A third darted past Sepoto and clutched at Tower Cleaver, causing the minotaur to gasp as the unearthly cold flowed into him. Another appeared out of the ceiling above him, reaching and clawing at him. The barbarian felt animal panic creeping over him, and he struggled mightily to keep at bay, turning the raw fear into blinding, all-consuming rage.
Daelric, huddled invisibly behind Tower Cleaver, realized that he was going to have to risk exposure, or else risk having all of his companions turned to wraiths as he watched. Standing, he began to pray, summoning the positive energy of health to his hands, and then releasing it over his companions and the undead. While the spell soothed the wounds of his allies, its cleansing touch was anathema to the wraiths, and they howled at its burning caress.
Mandi back-pedaled from the looming dread wraith, calling her magic to her again. A green lance of death struck out, but passed harmlessly through the insubstantial gloom of the creature’s body. Snarling, she spoke a word, and the belt at her waist tightened, squeezing the breath out of her as it imbued her with power. Again she lashed out, and this time the beam struck true, completely obliterating the specter. Digging even deeper, the sorceress cast again, this time snatching Octurus through time and space, dragging him from certain death at the hands of the wraiths, and depositing him in the hall behind Tower Cleaver. Simultaneously, she transported Marius, Daelric and herself several yards further down the hall and away from the conflict. As her last spell was completed, she sagged with exhaustion.
The dread wraith that had been savaging Octurus was none too pleased at the sudden escape of its wayward descendent. Quickly, it sank into the floor, only to reform a moment later in the corridor between Octurus and Marius. One hand shot out and back-handed the warmage, sending him sprawling. Then, with a violent hiss, it turned on Octurus once more. Marius was not so easily defeated, however. As soon as the creature touched him, his armor flared with light as bright as the sun, shedding the deadly touch of the wraith as it would a blow from a sword. Rolling to his feet, the wily gnome tossed another force ball, striking the undead horror in the back.
Tower Cleaver’s fury knew no bounds. He struck out, seemingly at random, at any shade that drew near, his blade slicing through their ectoplasmic forms as it would flesh, and anything he hit, he destroyed. In a matter of seconds, five wraiths shredded beneath the irresistible force of his might. Sepoto could only watch in stunned disbelief, silently reminding himself to kill the minotaur first should they ever end up on opposite sides of a battlefield.
Daelric saw that, though Marius had damaged the large spirit shaman, he and Octurus were still in grave danger. Seeing the effect that the warmage’s force bombs had on the wraith, he drew on Shaundekal’s favor to create a wall of whirling, slicing blades composed entirely of energy, which sprung up between his allies and the fell creature. Octurus quickly sprang forward, his scimitar slashing between the tiny blades and into the wraith, then just as nimbly sprang away to a safe distance. Like a shadow, the specter sank into the floor, only to rise up again on the near side of Daelric’s wall, striking out at the priest.
“Die, heretic!” it screamed, and Daelric knew what death would feel like as unholy power coursed through him. Then the wraith vanished beneath the floor again, reappearing this time directly behind Mandi, cutting off any escape.
Sepoto was no slouch himself when it came to dealing death, and though he lacked Cleaver’s sheer power, he made up for it in grace and finesse. Before his whirling chain, the final three wraiths were destroyed. He turned, only to find Tower Cleaver staring back down the hall, where the rest of his companions faced off against death incarnate.
“Checkmate,” Mandi smiled as the wraith reared up before her. Snapping her fingers, she vanished only to appear a split-second later where Tower Cleaver had stood. As for the minotaur, he now stood nose-to-nose with the dread wraith. Snarling, he raised his axe and dropped it like a guillotine, cleaving the dead priest in two, both halves of its body dispersing into shadow as its spirit departed to its final resting place.
“I must apologize for the actions of my ancestors,” Octurus said when the battle had ended. “Sometimes, when death comes unexpectedly, the spirits cannot be at peace until they have had their vengeance. Often this corrupts them, erasing the good people they once were. I ask you to honor the memory of my fathers by leaving this place as you found it.”
The companions glanced at one another, and then at Sepoto and Mandi.
“I have no need for gold,” the crusader said at length.
“Nor I,” Mandi nodded. “Let the dead rest. We have business with the living.”
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A little ways beyond the tomb, the group came upon what appeared to be a small shrine. The dusty room contained only a three-foot-tall ornate pedestal set against one wall. Several objects were neatly arranged on the flat, marble surface of the pedestal, around a stone statuette of a hideous, two-headed monster. The objects consisted of five, ivory rhythm sticks, three inlaid and bejeweled bowls, a crumbling bamboo flute, and the remains of a feather fan. Mandi bent close to examine the statue. She was sure it was meant to be some representation of Demogorgon, but it bore subtle differences, such as the fluked tail of a kopru. She knew that deities, and even some powerful Outsiders had the ability to manifest aspects of themselves on other planes. Perhaps the statue was a likeness of one. She shrugged and motioned for the others to keep moving. Unnoticed by the rest, Sepoto quietly pocketed the statue as he passed.
The corridor wound on, and doubled back on itself just beyond the shrine. As Sepoto and Octurus continued down it, the floor beneath them suddenly gave way, dropping them into darkness. They landed twenty-feet below in a partially flooded room which seemed to have been used as some sort of interrogation chamber long ago, complete with bronze chains and shackles, as well as a stone table with a gutter. A dark hall stretched away to the north, lined on both sides by bronze gates.
“Sepoto!” Tower Cleaver called loudly from above. “You okay?”
“Fine!” Sepoto called back. “We’ll be up shortly!” Fishing in his pouch, he pulled out two flasks and handed one to the Maztican. As each quaffed the draught, they took flight, and came to a stop in mid-air before their companions.
“What’s down there?” Mandi asked.
“Torture chamber,” the crusader answered, “and cells. Not used in awhile from the looks of it.”
“We can always investigate later,” Mandi said. “Let’s keep moving.”
Tower Cleaver drank his own elixir, and helped Sepoto act as a ferry across the collapsed floor, shuttling the others to the far side. The hallway continued on, passing through a man-sized breach in a makeshift wall at one point, as if someone had tried to barricade it in the past. Finally, the passage rounded a corner and ended in a small, round opening, beyond which could be seen a large chamber. A blazing fire burned under a rectangular hole in the sixty-foot tall ceiling. To the north and south, flights of stairs led up to balconies that ran along the room’s sides at a height of fifteen feet. Wooden doors were set into the far walls of both balconies. A man-sized stone visage, its mouth agape, served as the entrance to the hall from which the Legionnaires approached. Mandi could see four skinwalkers positioned around the bonfire, facing them with weapons ready.
“Looks like a welcoming committee,” she said.
The sorceress lowered her staff and spoke a word of command. A cone of ice and sleet erupted from the end of the weapon, washing over the demons. Before they could recover, she fired again, and that time two of the fiends collapsed to the floor, their bodies frozen solid. Using Mandi’s deadly distraction, Sepoto surged into the room, snapping the nearest demon’s neck with his chain. It was then that he realized he might be in trouble. Now that he was actually in the chamber, he could see the balcony better…and the eight skinwalkers arrayed there with arrows knocked. As one, they drew their bowstrings and fired. Reflexively, the crusader ducked behind his tower shield, letting the missiles bounce harmlessly off. Before he could rise, however, he heard the telltale sound of spellcasting coming from above. Turning that direction, he saw another demon directly over him. The acolyte hurled two rays of scorching flame at him, and though he managed to turn his shield, the fire washed over it, scorching his arms from wrist to shoulder.
Tower Cleaver rushed up to the mouth-like opening into the chamber and saw that it was too small for him to fit through. Undeterred, he reached on massive arm through, axe in hand, and deftly chopped into the back of the half-frozen skinwalker still standing. Once the floor was clear, Octurus darted past Cleaver, making for the nearest corner where he was relatively sheltered from the bowmen. At that moment, all the demons in the room let out an unearthly howl. It was echoed from on high, somewhere in the distance. Sepoto quickly leaped into the air, taking flight and closing rapidly to the acolyte above. Suddenly, one of the doors on the far side of the balcony was flung wide by what appeared to be a large ape. From out of the door emerged two more figures. The first was dressed as the other fiends, and quickly moved to take up a position near the balustrade. The second, however, was a heavily muscled individual, easily seven-feet tall. He carried a polished wooden shield in one hand, and a flaming macuahuitl in the other. Not pausing at the banister, he leaped over, landing nimbly on his feet on the floor below. Not pausing, he rushed across the room, screaming incoherently, until he reached the carving and stopped, right in front of Tower Cleaver.
Three of the skinwalkers near Sepoto on the balcony dropped their bows and rushed towards him where he squared off against the wizard. As they came, they drew their weapons, snarling and yowling. Almost as an afterthought, the goliath flicked his chain at the front two, stopping them in their tracks with its whip-crack speed. The third fiend nearly stumbled over his brethren, but managed to dodge aside at the last instant and take up a position on Sepoto’s flank. Simultaneously, the acolyte quickly ducked behind his allies, hurling more fiery rays at the crusader as it went. Meanwhile, the remaining five skinwalkers followed their leader’s example, and began vaulting the balustrade. Two closed quickly to their chieftain’s side, while the remaining three charged towards Octurus. As the first drew near, the demon hunter slashed overhand with one scimitar, opening a horribly gash on the fiend’s thigh.
The sole skinwalker on the balcony was the one that had come out of the room with the chief. It gazed down at the battlefield appraisingly. All of the intruders were engaged, and it was free to pick its targets as it chose. Leaning over the rail, it could see Octurus hemmed into the corner. Smiling, it raised its hands and loosed its own volley of fire at the heretic. Octurus gritted his teeth as the fire burned him, but he did not take his attention off any of his opponents. On the contrary, he pressed the offensive. Turning and parrying better than any sword master, he twirled his twin blades in front of him, neatly severing the hand from one of the demons, and then flaying the skin from the fiend’s arm with a cut that would be envied by any chef. At that moment, a large tattoo of an ape’s head on Octurus’s arm suddenly opened its mouth and roared. The skinwalkers took a startled step back, and that’s when the demon hunter sprang. He leaped upon the demon still clutching its bleeding stump and, crossing his swords over his chest, he savagely scissored them apart, rending the skinwalker into pieces. It dropped in a gory heap to the floor. Continuing his momentum, Octurus jumped over the fallen demon, and impaled another through the shoulder.
Tower Cleaver still couldn’t squeeze through the door, and he knew he was a sitting duck for the chief and its two minions. Bellowing in challenge, the big minotaur flailed wildly with his axe. So furious was his attack, that the chief was momentarily caught off-guard…a mistake it paid for with blood as Cleaver’s axe blade cut it once with a glancing blow across the abdomen, but then sawed into its bicep on the backswing. Then, to the surprise of Tower Cleaver and the demons, Marius ran from between the minotaur’s legs, calling his magic to him as he entered the room. His intent was to strike the chief while it was still staggered, quickly and decisively. The spell he chose was designed to show its victim an image of its greatest fear. The mere sight of such an apparition was enough to stop the heart of even the bravest soul. Or so the warmage thought. The demon chief did not even blink at whatever it was that Marius’s magic had shown it. Worse, the little gnome had now exposed himself, and was surrounded on all sides.
It was then that Mandi flew into the room, her small, mephit-like form also passing between Cleaver’s legs. Confused, the minotaur glanced down, wondering what was going to emerge next from his loins. The nearest skinwalker slashed at Mandi as she passed and gained altitude, but its blow was mistimed, and she flew easily beneath the blade. When she reached the apex of her flight, she paused and spoke a spell, causing the chief’s muscles to suddenly seize, paralyzing it where it stood.
“Now, Cleaver!” she screamed.
The fiendish wizard near Sepoto completely ignored him as Mandi’s presence registered a more pressing danger. It began to cast, but as it did so, Sepoto struck, knocking it off balance. At the same time, Mandi glanced up and intuitively deduced the spell the acolyte was preparing…Feeblemind, a devastating effect that would render its target, especially if they too were arcanists, with the intelligence of a lizard. Marius had already fallen victim to it once before. Seeing their danger, doubled since a second wizard stood on the far balcony, Mandi rapidly cast her own spell, instantly transporting herself and Marius back into the passage behind the carving, while at the same time moving Tower Cleaver fully into the room.
Cleaver howled in triumph as he rose to his full height. Ignoring the ineffective strikes of the two demons on his flanks, he concentrated on the chief. Leveling his axe, he swung back, and then across, removing the skinwalker’s head with a devastating blow. So powerful was the attack, that its momentum carried the minotaur on around in a half-circle where his blade cut deeply into the fiend who stood to his left. The demon wailed and backed away. Then, out of the corner of its eye, it saw light flare from within the mouth of the stone visage. Three streaking gouts of flame came straight at it, immolating it where it stood. Inside the passage, Marius blew on the tip of his finger.
Octurus continued to disassemble his two opponents. When one drew too close, the hunter skillfully disemboweled it. His last foe circled warily at a distance, looking for an opening. When it thought he saw one, it lunged in, only to find Octurus’s blades in its face, slashing and rending. Bloodied and half-blind, the demon retreated again, silently wondering if, now that its chief was slain, retreat was an option.
Sepoto took to the air again, sailing over the heads of the three demons around him, and landing on the opposite side of the acolyte. As he descended, he called Savras’s divine power into his blade and sliced it viciously across the wizard’s midsection. Spitting curses at the goliath, the fiend backed away, one arm cradling its wounded belly. Speaking the words to yet another spell, it instantly vanished from sight.
Tower Cleaver’s attention was momentarily diverted by an animal’s roar approaching from behind. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the ape had descended the stairs and was charging towards him on all fours. Cleaver hated to kill the beast. He didn’t like hurting animals, who were only acting on their instincts. Still, he couldn’t let it just maul him, so he struck with brutal efficiency, dropping the creature before it got within ten-feet of him. Once more, he let the force of his swing carry his blade around, striking the second demon on his opposite flank. Suddenly, there was movement all around him as two of the skinwalkers who’d been menacing Sepoto abruptly dropped from the balconies. At that point the minotaur was surrounded…just the way he liked it. Hefting his axe, he roared his challenge once more. The sight was terrible to behold for any onlookers. Like wheat before the scythe, three of the demons went down in rapid succession, their deaths messy and painful. The final demon stood, eyes wide and staring from beneath a mask of its brethrens’ blood.
Sepoto cursed, and began a prayer to Savras. As the magic enveloped him like a wave, he flew from the balcony, circling its perimeter, hoping the purging effect of the spell would reveal his invisible foe to him. Just then, however, he saw the second wizard leap from the balcony and take up a position behind the fire pit and away from Tower Cleaver. The fiend looked beyond the minotaur and into the hole. Sepoto could hear the demon cast its spell, but couldn’t see its target, or its effect. The next thing he saw was Marius dart out of the mouth of the carving, look around like a feral animal, and then, with a cry like that of a wounded badger, streak across the room towards the acolyte. Then Mandi appeared at the opening as well. She watched Marius, shaking her head. She extended her hand, palm out, and a blinding flash of white-light leaped from it to the demonic wizard. In an instant, the fiend was turned to pure glass. When Marius reached the statue, he kicked and bit at it until it overbalanced, shattering as it struck the floor.
Octurus’s opponent saw Marius run across the room, and was after him in a flash, like a cat on a mouse. As the crazed gnome cavorted across the broken glass, the skinwalker struck, biting deep into his neck. Marius shrieked and squealed like a trapped animal. The demon began shaking him back and forth in its mouth, but as it prepared to maul him to death, Octurus was there, ramming his scimitar between the fiend’s shoulders and into its spine. The skinwalker dropped bonelessly to the floor, releasing Marius who scuttled quickly to a dark corner to lick his wounds.
As Sepoto passed over the fire pit, he saw the other acolyte materialize beneath him. Shouting in triumph, the crusader dove. The wizard looked up at the last second, the final thing it saw Sepoto’s chain-wrapped fist driving towards its upturned face.
Only one skinwalker remained. It looked warily around the room at its dead comrades and hale opponents. Apparently coming to some decision, it raised its weapon, howled, and ran for the passage where Mandi still stood. Before it could move ten-feet, however, Cleaver stepped into its path, holding his axe blade forward. The fiend’s momentum carried it straight into the axe blade, and beyond, almost completely bisecting it. With its eyes still open, it slid from the blade to the bloody flagstones.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
