ENEMIES AT THE GATE
The six companions made a hurried search of the rooms opening off the balcony which overlooked the grand hall, finding only what was obviously the barracks for the skinwalkers as well as the chief’s quarters and a degenerate shrine with runes etched onto human skins that hung on the walls, singing the praises of the Prince of Demons. Mandi didn’t bother translating the obscene writings for the others, for she knew that, if they survived, they would be fully immersed in the horrors of the Abyss before very much longer. All roads pointed there, and the sorceress wasn’t certain if she was more repulsed by that idea, or intrigued…
From their rough sketch of the parts of the temple they’d explored, the Legionnaires guessed that the wide hall leading from the chamber would take them to the front entrance of the temple, the same one they’d bypassed on their flight across Broken Lake. Nonetheless, they felt the need to investigate every part of the shrine for fear of missing some piece of crucial evidence that would reveal to them the secret of the origins of the Shadow Pearls. When they emerged from the passage, they found themselves atop a landing overlooking a monumental stairway which descended to several piers extending out into the lake. Pillars decorated with abstract and intricate carvings supported the ceiling of the area. In the middle of the cave, two square pedestals to either side of the center steps of the stairway supported the feet and ankles of a collapsed statue that once straddled the stairs. Some of the statue’s features were still recognizable as the image of Quetzalcoatl in the heaps of rubble scattered on the stairway, most noticeably the feathered texture of a huge pair of wings. To either side of the passageway from which they had come, leered two bas-reliefs of men with feathered headdresses. The one to the north showed a man with a brilliant sun over his head, obviously Tonatiuh, while to the south was a man beneath a smoking moon, Tezcatlipoca.
Directly between the two statues was a strange symbol inscribed upon the marble flagstones. Mandi paused at the entrance, and bent closer to examine it.
“Strange,” she said. “This looks vaguely familiar, yet I can’t put my finger on it.”
At that moment, the rune flared to crimson life, its glow searing the eyes of the companions with burning light. All of them felt a sharp, stabbing pain pass through their heads, but just as quickly as it came, it vanished again…for all save one.
“I…I don’t feel so well,” Marius murmured, clutching his forehead. An instant later, he simply collapsed to the floor. Daelric quickly knelt beside the gnome, feeling his neck for a pulse and finding none.
“He…he’s dead!” the young priest exclaimed. “How?”
Mandi looked at the symbol again, comprehension finally dawning on her with horrible clarity. The rune was a trap, placed there to slay the one who read it and any others who happened to be nearby. By some amazing stroke of fortune, they had not all been slain instantly, like Marius. She turned to reveal to the others what she had discovered, but before she could speak, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and she saw her allies staring wide-eyed over her shoulder. She turned slowly back towards the stairs and beheld a nightmare brought to life. Looming over them was an enormous, eel-like creature with a mouthful of needle-like teeth. It had simply appeared out of thin air, and by no magic that Mandi was familiar with. Abruptly, a sibilant voice spoke directly into her mind and, she assumed, the minds of the others as well.
‘You have made your last mistake, mortals! The Two-headed One does not suffer heretics and infidels to live! Now, make your piece with whatever pathetic gods you worship, for tonight you sleep in the Abyss!’
“Ah, soliloquies,” Mandi smiled, “the Achilles’ heel of all demagogues. Let us put your boast to the test, shall we?”
The elf wizard began her incantation almost nonchalantly. Demons were always full of hubris, but, in her experience, they were little more than tough-talking thugs. The wastrilith before them was probably no exception. When her spell was complete, she loosed its power at the fiend, mentally willing it to become an eel in fact as well as form. The magic simply passed through the creature, and that was when Mandi realized they were in over their heads. The image before them was an elaborate illusion, one that she had studied, but never seen in action, nor had she ever had any desire to, for the phantasm allowed its creator to send spells through it while remaining hidden and unharmed some distance away.
“We need to go,” she said quietly. “Now, and quickly. We cannot best this demon, especially not without Marius’s magic to aid us.”
“What are you talking about?” Sepoto asked, incredulous. “It’s just a demon. So it can cast spells…what of it?”
“You don’t understand, fool!” Mandi snapped. “You cannot harm that. It is an illusion, and in the time it would take for us to find its progenitor, it will have killed us all! Heed my words and gather close to me, or stay here and perish! I care not.”
She held out her hands and closed her eyes, her spell already on her lips. Daelric didn’t hesitate. He seized her left hand immediately. Octurus glanced at Sepoto, then at Mandi, and then took her other hand, holding out his own to Sepoto. Tower Cleaver looked questioningly at the goliath. Sepoto hesitated for a moment, then cursed and grabbed Octurus’s hand and that of Cleaver an instant before Mandi’s spell was complete, and they were whisked through the ether.
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“But I want to see Jakara!” Octurus demanded for what must have been the hundredth time, by which point Mandi had long passed the end of her rope.
“I’ve told you that I have my reasons for remaining indoors while we are here in Farshore, and you will just have to accept that. Remember, we didn’t ask you to join this quest, you asked us, so if you plan on remaining with us, then you’d best start acting like part of a team, or you’ll find yourself facing whatever else is in that temple on your own!”
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the sitting room of her house and into the kitchen. Sepoto followed her, unobtrusively pocketing a small, glass figurine from a knickknack table as he passed.
Mandi had transported the group directly to her private residence earlier in the day, and had insisted that none of them go out. She had not explained herself, and Octurus had been the only one to question her logic. Daelric was busy with Marius, attempting to recall the warmage’s soul from limbo before it departed to the Afterlife forever. Tower Cleaver blindly followed the sorceress’s dictates for fear of what might happen if he didn’t. As for the crusader, he guessed at Mandi’s reasoning, but wanted to hear it from her himself.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked, reclining against a countertop.
Mandi cut her eyes at him as she sipped from a wine glass.
“Plan?” she repeated. “The plan is to bring Marius back, if possible, rest here tonight, and get back to the temple in the morning, where we will then proceed to show that doorkeeper the error of his ways!”
“You know what I mean,” Sepoto said calmly.
Mandi took another drink and sighed, her posture relaxing marginally.
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she admitted. “The plan also involves not alerting Lavinia or Meravanchi that we are back. I have several reasons for this. First, if Lavinia sees that we have returned with our collective tails between our legs, she will lose heart in our mission, and perhaps faith in us. That might do irreparable harm to our…arrangement with her, and that I cannot have. Second, if Meravanchi knows, he will use it as a weakness against Lavinia, proof that she is not fit to lead. For all concerned, the sooner we leave, and the less people know, the better.”
Sepoto nodded noncommittally. He understood that Mandi had her own motivations for having taken up their quest, and so long as those reasons did not compromise the mission, he didn’t care what they were.
At that moment, their discussion was interrupted by a loud bellow from Tower Cleaver. Rushing back to the sitting room, Sepoto’s hand on his chain and Mandi with a spell on her lips, they were shocked to see the minotaur giving a huge bull hug to a weak and shaky-looking Marius. Daelric, looking fairly exhausted himself, stood behind them with a thin smile on his lips.
“Welcome back,” Sepoto said, grinning. “How was your second trip to the Other Side?”
“Twice as bad as the first,” the gnome gasped, struggling to extricate himself from Cleaver’s grip.
“At least you didn’t come back as an orc this time,” the goliath laughed.
“Small miracles,” Marius acknowledged, dusting himself off.
“Yes, it is good that you are back,” Mandi said tightly. “I advise you, and the rest of you,” she looked around at the others, “to get some rest. We leave at first light.”
“Where are we going?” Marius asked, puzzled.
“To avenge your death,” Mandi replied flatly.
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Shortly after dawn of the following morning, the Legionnaires materialized back on the front steps of the skinwalker’s temple. Xerkamat watched them arrive with a savage grin on his shark-like mouth. The Master had told him they would return. Mortals were so utterly predictable. He knew they would fare no better than they had the previous day, but he had taken steps to insure their total annihilation, nonetheless.
No sooner had the six companions gotten their bearings, than the image of the wastrilith appeared before them again. This time there was no warning given, but Mandi was prepared just the same. As the illusion solidified, she hurled a dispelling enchantment at it, trying to unravel its weave. The spell was too powerful, however. The image flickered for a moment, but then became solid once again. Cursing, the sorceress darted past the glamer, heading for the water. She knew that the nature of such a figment required its caster to remain within visual sight, meaning that the real demon must be hiding in the lake. Just as she reached the water’s edge, however, a bone-chilling cacophony of wails and war cries sounded from within the passage leading back to the entry chamber. From that direction swarmed a dozen or more skinwalkers, all brandishing their obsidian bladed weapons, the demonic lions that they wore roaring and snarling.
Marius turned to see the onrushing horde of demons filling the tight passageway, and a smile of pure pleasure appeared on his face. Cupping his hands together, he blew on them, causing an enormous cone of fire to billow forth, filling the hall. The skinwalkers shrieked and howled louder, their flesh bubbling and blistering, yet on they came, heedless that the lion pelts they wore still smoldered. Tower Cleaver stepped to meet the onslaught, dropping the first demon with a casual flick of his axe. Then Mandi was next to him, shouldering him aside. The sorceress leveled her staff at the throng, spoke a word, and flooded the corridor with stinging shards of ice. When the air cleared, every one of the demons lay frozen solid upon the floor.
“I’ll still take credit for that one,” Marius said, tipping his imaginary cap to the elf.
Suddenly, from behind them they heard the wastrilith speaking arcane words in his Abyssal tongue. When they turned back, the demon had inscribed a glowing symbol in mid-air.
“Not again…” Marius whispered, but this time when the sigil pulsed, it wasn’t the cold chill of death that gripped the warmage, but a horrible weakness which leached every ounce of strength from his limbs. Unable to even support his own weight, he collapsed, helpless to the floor.
“Damn it all!” Sepoto spat. “We’re sitting ducks like this! We’ve got to find that thing!”
“Agreed,” Mandi nodded. “Follow me! The rest of you hold your ground here!”
Once more, the sorceress sprinted for the lake, Sepoto on her heels. Both of them dove beneath the water, their eyes straining against the murk, searching for the demon they knew to be concealed somewhere nearby.
Xerkamat chuckled at the ineptitude of the mortals. His Master had been concerned for nothing. Surely such as these posed no threat to one as powerful as he.
‘Watch now, Master,’ the demon hissed with joy, ‘as I kill your enemies one by one.’
‘Do not underestimate them, Xerkamat,’ his Master replied. ‘They have taken down mighty opponents. Do not trifle with them. Kill them quickly!’
Just then, Xerkamat heard the tell-tale scuffling of invisible boots, then the chanting of a prayer. As he watched, the gnome’s strength returned, and he was able to lever himself to his feet. Once more the wastrilith smiled broadly at the futility of their efforts. Then he spoke a single word…
The sheer power of the demon’s utterance struck Marius, Daelric, Octurus and Tower Cleaver like a hammer blow. The foulness of the word sent a numbing wave through their limbs, rooting them all in place, stunned and dazed. Worse, the dark magic sapped all of their strength this time, not just Marius’s. Having just recovered from the last assault, Marius collapsed again. Unseen next to him, Daelric felt his vitality ebb as well, and he too fell heavily to the flagstones. Just when the Legionnaires thought things could not get much worse, they did. From the corridor flew two more skinwalkers, adorned much like the others had been, yet they carried magic with them. Acolytes! As they emerged from the mouth of the hallway, they sent rays of scorching fire at the helpless Marius and Tower Cleaver.
“Yes! Slay them and bring their corpses to me!” Xerkamat shrieked triumphantly, but then his Master spoke again.
‘The goliath and the sorceress draw near. It is time for our ruse to end. Prepare yourself!’
A moment later, Xerkamat found himself transported inside the great entry hall, looking back down the corridor towards his minions and their prey. The illusory image of himself had vanished.
One of the acolytes strolled casually over to Marius. The gnome could not even look up at his soon-to-be killer. He could only stare at the demon’s boots. Then, he felt himself rising into the air as the skinwalker lifted him in its arms and began moving back towards the hallway. He was being taken to the wastrilith, and there was not a thing in the world he could do about it.
Sepoto breached the surface of the lake, catching his breath. He glanced back towards his companions as he prepared to dive again, and his mouth fell open. Tower Cleaver and Octurus were just standing there, stricken. As he watched, a skinwalker hurled beams of fire at the minotaur, and the big barbarian did not even try to move out of the way, allowing the rays to strike him full in the chest. A second skinwalker had Marius and looked to be carrying the warmage towards the entry hall. At that moment, Mandi surfaced beside him. When she saw the predicament of the others, she shook he head and barked out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.
“Hold on!” she said to Sepoto finally, after regaining her composure. Grabbing the goliath by one arm, then pointing the other towards Marius, she spoke her spell. An instant later, Marius lay on the ground near the lake’s edge, while Sepoto found himself in the arms of the acolyte, much to the skinwalker’s surprise and dismay.
“Do you mind?” Sepoto asked, and the demon abruptly dropped him. The crusader landed on his feet, and whipped his chain free of his belt. Suddenly, he was struck by two powerful waves of magic. The first, he could feel, was stripping away his precious defensive wards, while the second, stronger one stunned him just as it had done to his colleagues.
Mandi watched in horror as Sepoto was immobilized. They were going to die to a man, she thought in terror. Even as she saw this, the second acolyte blasted Tower Cleaver again. The minotaur’s flesh was raw and seared, smelling like cooked steak. As the skinwalker prepared to cast again, Mandi struck, sending a blinding beam of white light at the fiend. As it touched the demon, its entire body turned instantly to crystallized glass. Then Tower Cleaver roared, having broken free of the blasphemous magic. Hefting his axe, he swung with all his might, shattering the crystal statue into a million fragments. He then turned towards the corridor, preparing to follow the first acolyte, who by that time had retreated to the side of the wastrilith. No sooner had the minotaur taken a step, however, than the larger demon opened his tremendous maw and breathed out a billowing cone of steam and fire that washed over both Cleaver and Sepoto.
At that point, Sepoto found he could move again. Ignoring his own pain, and slapping Cleaver on the shoulder as he passed, he started down the hallway, the minotaur close behind. Mandi had reached the mouth of the passage as well, and as she started down it, she pulled a sharp stick from her belt pouch, jabbed it into her thigh, and hurled words of righteous fury at the wastrilith, attempting to rebuke it back to the Abyss that had spawned it. Xerkamat felt the potent magic wash over him, momentarily dazing him, but not killing him instantly, as had been intended.
‘Do not fear,’ his Master said. ‘Though you are incapacitated, I am not. Victory shall still be ours!’
Sepoto and Tower Cleaver had almost reached the entry chamber when the acolyte stepped from around the corner and the corridor exploded in fire. The crusader dove forward, speaking a word which caused the boots that he wore to flare with heat. A moment later he rolled to his feet, un harmed and behind the wastrilith, having stepped between dimensions momentarily.
Behind her, Mandi glimpsed Daelric and Marius climb to their feet, having recovered more slowly from the dark magic. She didn’t have time to worry about them, however. To her utter astonishment, the supposedly helpless wastrilith hurled a dispelling field around her, causing several of her powerful enchantments to evaporate. As she looked down at herself, she saw the skin of the infernal barbed devil that she wore slowly evaporate, to be replaced by her own, vulnerable flesh. Then the skinwalker was before her, a spell forming in its mouth that would leech her mind away. Panicking, Mandi activated her own boots, willing herself out of the hall and back to the relative safety of the foyer.
Sepoto spat out the words to his own spell as he gripped his blade in both hands. The barbs on the chain curved wickedly, and began to drip blood on the floor around him. Calling Savras’ name, the crusader struck at the wastrilith, his weapon slashing deeply into its diseased flesh. Xerkamat felt pain, real pain and he cried out in agony and fury. From inside his mind, he felt his Master seize his magic and invoke it through his still paralyzed body. Tower Cleaver suddenly felt his axe being wrenched from his hands, but at the last moment, he tightened his grip and pulled back against the unseen, telekinetic force. Snorting, mucous flying from his nostrils, the minotaur drew back his axe as far as his arms would reach, and then brought it around in a deadly arc, its blade slashing deep into both the skinwalker and the wastrilith, their foul blood hissing as it touched the ground. A split-second later, a column of white fire erupted from the ceiling above the demons, engulfing them. Tower Cleaver turned and was stunned to see Daelric standing fully revealed behind him. For a moment, doubt gripped the barbarian. Just how dire were their straits that the priest had decided to join the battle?
“Stand aside!” Marius screamed from the mouth of the passage. “It’s payback time!” Calling up the arcane version of the miracle Daelric had just performed, the warmage created a fiery column twice the size of the priest’s. Wailing in agony, Xerkamat beseeched his Master.
‘What shall I do? I am undone!’
‘Flee, fool!’ his Master replied. ‘I still have work for you! Flee now!’
Only needing to be told once, the wastrilith vanished from the field of battle, reappearing a mile away within the depths of the lake, where he sank into the gloom to heal his wounds and bide his time.
The lone skinwalker knew that it was doomed, but it was determined to die well and take one of its opponents with it. Focusing on the wounded minotaur, the demon hurled fire at the brute again, striking Cleaver in the eyes with one well-placed blast. Blinded and in pain, Tower Cleaver swung around him crazily. His blow, however, was a lucky one, but not for the acolyte. The demon watched, wide-eyed as its body was severed in two at the waist.
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As the company made their way back through the temple, they found it to be deserted. No other occupants, besides the skinwalkers, had taken up residence in their absence. In fact, they discovered nothing else of use to them as they explored the upper level. Rooms were empty, save for an ancient untriggered trap or two. Ultimately, they realized that if there was anything else to be learned about the temple and its mysterious source of Shadow Pearls, they would find it below. They had several choices of ways to descend, but ultimately they chose a set of stairs they found hidden behind a secret door in a chamber that contained a single hunk of raw wood placed as an altar. The shrine and the floor near it were sticky with swaths of mostly dried blood. The trail of blood led from the altar to the section of false wall. The choice seemed obvious.
Descending the steep stair, they found themselves in a large chamber flooded with murky, rancid-smelling water. A bas-relief figure of a feathered serpent was carved as a single frieze that ran on the walls near the ceiling. Three passages led from the room, two flooded and one dry. As they debated on which exit to take, the water in the room began to churn in three distinct areas. Rising from the fetid pool were three, large toad-like creatures, their skin glistening with slime and blood, their claws clicking together as they snarled through dagger-like teeth.
“Octurus,” Sepoto said softly over his shoulder, “I think we’ve found something worthy of your attention…”
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
