CHAPTER 8: A MOUNTAIN CALLED MARTOK
Khalid, still weary from the battle in the village and fretting over the fate of the staff, was in a rare mood. “Ah, our business here is none of your concern,” he snapped. “And you’re no bed of roses from the downwind side either I suspect. Yes, quite.” He glanced at Gorak for support, but his expression was inscrutable. Shayla was watching him as well, her eyes flickering between him and the woman standing above them. Azarek rested a hand on his sword, but the woman remained still, neither moving to attack or relenting, she studied each of them in turn before fixing her gaze on Gorak. Receiving no signs of encouragement, Khalid lost some of his fleeting bravado. “Ah, and who are you, to accost us on our journey?” Again, there was no response. Khalid, never one to look for a fight, was beginning to find the silence almost unbearable. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, there was a subtle shift in Gorak’s posture.
“Name’s Gorak. That’s Khalid and Shayla,” he growled. “We ain’t gonna trouble you none. We’re just passing through.”
“I am Olyna,” the woman replied, her tone cool, but no longer threatening. “Leave you shall, but first, I would know what you have brought into my realm.”
Khalid chewed on his lip. What do we do? he asked the others, silently.
Gorak shrugged, “You didn’t want it with us, and we gotta be moving on.”
Tired and frustrated, Khalid relented. Very well.
“It’s a staff,” Gorak grunted. “Orc weapon.”
“Why bring it here?”
“It’s evil, and powerful. We won’t use it, and it don’t like that. Where we’re going, it’s just gonna be a lodestone around our neck, until somebody takes it away from us. It’s best buried and forgotten.”
“And you decided to bring it here,” Olyna replied.
“Here is the middle of nowhere,” Shayla pointed out. “Seemed as good a place as any.”
Olyna appeared to consider that. After an almost uncomfortably long look at Gorak, she spoke. “It may well be. I will agree to let you leave it here.”
Khalid, somewhat concerned by the sudden change of heart, asked, “Ah, yes, but how do we know that you won’t try to use it. Yes, quite.”
“I have no desire to be either slave or master. I have encountered that thing before and I am not ignorant to its purpose. It defiles all around it. It will stay buried here until the stone crumbles into dust.”
Khalid considered himself a pretty good judge of character, but he nevertheless turned to Gorak for reassurance. His casual shrug provided little. With a sigh, Khalid stuffed his concerns down deep. Like it or not, they had bigger problems, and the weapon was a distraction they could ill afford. As they turned away, the druid shifted her form and took flight. She followed them for a brief distance, before climbing high out of view.
“What was all that about,” Azarek rasped.
“Khalid ain’t the only one that can get his point across with his mouth shut,” Gorak grunted. “I trust her enough. Let’s leave it at that.”
A hundred miles later, Martok was a gray smudge on the horizon, and before long, came to dominate the skyline ahead. The sense of vague unease he’d felt upon first seeing the mountain returned, honed to a jagged point like the mountain ahead. “Ah, are we still committed to this plan? Our reception, yes, reception at the village was less than welcoming last time. Yes, quite. Perhaps we would be better to turn south and skirt the mountain all together.”
“That means we took a long, long walk with nothing to show for it,” Shayla pointed out. “Well, not exactly nothing,” she added, with a toss of her jet black hair. The sarcasm was more than a hint.
“We got information,” Gorak growled. “That’s more than we had before. That devil took the Dwerro for a reason and heading back West, we’re gonna walk right back into that shyte storm. I’d like to see if maybe we could at least find an umbrella.”
Khalid had been trying to put that thought out of his mind, with only marginal success. He couldn’t argue with either of them, but he didn’t have to like it. Shifting in his saddle, he settled into a good worry, as the miles rolled by under the hooves of their summoned mounts. Without having to care for the horses, they rode hard as always, eating in the saddle and stopping only to sleep. A few days later, Gorak returned from one of his patrols, and shifted in front of them. “Welcoming party is out in full force,” he grunted.
“Don’t suppose they looked happy to see us?” Azarek rasped.
“Hard ta tell.” Gorak grumbled. “Khalid, magick me up a horse. No sense looking like we got something to hide.”
They eased up on their pace, turning slightly to meet the villagers head on. For once, Azarek mostly behaved himself and left his weapons sheathed. Before long they saw the warriors from the village, standing in a semi-circle as before. They reigned in a respectful distance away, and Khalid spoke, “Ah, we have no quarrel, yes, quarrel with you.”
He was only half as surprised when the old woman stepped from behind two men. “So, you’re back.”
“Ah, and you speak the Western tongue,” Khalid replied, his eyes narrowing.
“The time fer playing games is long past, don’t you agree?”
“You were expecting us,” Shayla said, more a statement then question.
The old woman laughed, a wheezy, rasping sound. “Oh, I just knew you were gonna find your way back here. I been keeping an eye out on you folk.” She tapped the center of her forehead, with a sly grin at Khalid. “More and more, when people ask powerful questions, it is your name that comes back the answer. A wise person might suggest you take better care to conceal your activities. Or at least your involvement.”
Shayla rolled her eyes. “Next one we meet, we’ll ask for her opinion.” The emphasis grated on Khalid.
“Hah,” the old woman barked, with a smirk. “That fire in your belly might have been enough to stave off your enemies until now, but folks out there are starting to take notice.”
“Don’t we know it,” Gorak grunted.
“We know you were at the fall of Caer Morag and more. And the winds bring whispers of a great slaughter in the forest to the south,” she continued, her eyes narrowing. “In fact, it would seem you’ve left a trail of bodies in your path since you walked down from the mountains.” Her smile was gone now, as she looked at each of them in turn, taking their measure.
“More than a few before that too,” Shayla muttered, her tone bordering on ominous.
“No doubt,” the old woman replied, her expression unreadable. Then she spun on her heel and began heading toward the mountain and at brisk jog. Khalid looked at Gorak and Shayla, his hopes rising that they could finally head back to the questionable safety of Gem-Sharad. A moment later, the old woman dashed them. “Well, come on then,” she called over her shoulder. “We’ve got a lot to discuss and I’m in no mood to do it out here.”
The warriors spread out around them, not so close as to threaten, but there was no questioning the direction they were riding in. Khalid didn’t get the sense they were in immediate danger but the old woman did nothing to alleviate his concern, proving as reticent as she was spry and running ahead of them in silence. Hours of silence later, they arrived at the village. Near the center of town, the old woman finally spoke. “Well you ain’t gonna fit inside on top of them horses.” With a jerk of her head, she motioned for them to follow as she parted the deer hides hanging over the door, and led them into the large yurt.
Several of the warriors remained near the door, but none of them followed her in. Khalid blinked as he entered the gloomy interior, pausing for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. A small amount of light filtered in through the open hole in the center, above the fire pit. The inside was surprisingly similar to the nomadic tents he’d had occasion to visit with Gorak while perusing for exotic herbs in the outskirts of Gem-Sharad. Tapestries hung from the walls, and thick rugs covered the hard packed earth. A small wooden bookcase was packed with scrolls and papyrus, along with other artifacts whose purpose was not readily apparent. The old woman motioned to a young girl kneeling near the door, and she quickly left the tent, returning with cool water and a platter of hard, foul smelling cheese. Figuring they wouldn’t bother feeding him if they meant to kill him, Khalid relaxed slightly and took a slab of cheese. The overpowering aroma made his eyes water, but where free food was concerned, he rarely let taste interfere. The settled down on their knees near the middle, while the old woman settled into a low chair along the wall.
“So you’re a lot friendlier this go round,” Gorak growled with his usual tact. “What changed?”
“A great deal,” the old woman replied, leaning forward in her chair. “We appreciate what you’ve done for us. That harvest you raised when you left will last us two seasons at least, and we may yet get another planting in. And Caer Morag has fallen. But you knew that. You were there.”
Khalid saw no reason to deny it. “Ah, a most tragic situation. The city sacked, the tower destroyed, yes, destroyed.”
That seemed to surprise the woman. “Nargammon destroyed the tower? I’d never had guessed he’d have the power do it. That tower has stood for centuries. The Dwerro will not be pleased. What else do you know of the South.”
Khalid, using his talent, kept up a ready stream of dialogue with Shayla and Gorak as he carefully crafted their story, touching only the larger picture without delving too deeply into their activities. It was clear the old woman had some knowledge of their travels, but even Khalid’s relative skill at judging people left him unsure of how much the old woman really knew. “And, of course, as you have heard, there was a battle in the southern forest, yes, quite. There was a great gathering of Orc clans from the mountains and the hills around, but the villagers laid waste to their horde. We were unfortunately, yes, unfortunately caught in the middle. The Dwerro will soon secure Caer Morag, and then press, yes, press north. The rangers will make their lives miserable, yes, miserable, but there is nothing truly standing between them and Martok now.”
“We caught one,” Shayla added. “A son of Martok. And let me tell you, if the rest of them are like him, they’re gonna be showing up here real soon.”
“Perhaps. But there are few of them remaining,” the old woman replied dismissively. “Why did you return here?”
"We didn’t find what we were looking for,” Gorak grumbled. “So we still need to get into that mountain, and I think maybe you know something that’d help us.”
“I know a lot that would help you,” the old woman, said with a cackle that set the hairs on the back of Khalid’s neck up. “But everything has a cost.”
“Well maybe your information is for sale, but I’ll give you this one for free,” Shayla said. Khalid knew what was coming, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. “No sooner than we grabbed that dark skinned Dwerro, a devil snatched him up.”
The old woman ceased chuckling. “What did you say?” she demanded. All traces of mirth were gone from her voice.
“Ah, it was a succubus,” Khalid replied. “A fell creature who’s only desire is to tempt,yes, tempt men to their doom. It is likely that it was acting under anothers orders.” It was as much of the truth as he was willing to admit.
“To what end?” the woman asked, the concern evident on her face.
“Dunno,” Gorak grunted. “But maybe if we can get into that mountain, we can figure it out.”
The woman considered that for a moment. “Leave me,” she said. “I must speak with the elders. Lodging will be prepared for you.”
Summarily dismissed, they followed one of the guards to another yurt, similar in appearance if somewhat less comfortably appointed. The warrior remained just outside, making it clear they weren't permitted to wander. With little else to do to pass the time, Khalid as he always did, turned to his studies. New formula lay just within his grasp, and time to work on them had been short in the past few days. Azarek, bored by inactivity, stretched out on one of the thick rugs. Titling his helmet over his eyes, he was soon fast asleep, rumbling snores soon drowning out the sound of Khalid's quill scratching across the parchment. Gorak and Shayla sat in idle conversation, with Emma curled up on her lap.
The light creeping through the tent flap slowly dimmed as the minutes turned into hours. With no summons from their host, they bedded down in the yurt for the evening. Khalid felt somewhat exposed sleeping outside the confines of his magick but was conscious of offending the tribes folk by disappearing. Setting a watch was also discussed, but ultimately they felt safe enough to rely on Emma and Sousee to alert them of trouble, and opted to take the opportunity for a decent night's rest. Khalid couldn't deny the comfort of the thick rugs and pillows, and nervous as he was, fell fast asleep almost as soon as he lay down.
Gorak shook him awake, and for a few moments, Khalid wasn't sure if he'd slept for minutes or hours, as the sky was still dark outside. Making himself somewhat more presentable with a cantrip, he followed Shayla outside, where a faint smudge of gray on the Eastern horizon confirmed he had slept through the night, and dawn was approaching. Muttering under his breath about the uncivilized hour, he followed the tribesman back towards the old woman's hut. When they arrived, their guide pulled back the flap, and waved them inside. This time, she wasn't alone, flanked on either side by several of the other elders, and a younger man Khalid assumed was the leader of the warriors. The old woman motioned for them to sit. In what Khalid took to be an encouraging sign, an attendant offered them each a cup of sweet smelling tea, before backing out of the yurt.
The old woman stared intently at them for a moment, before speaking. “We have decided to help you,” she said finally. It was not the answer Khalid expected, and a flash of panic rolled through him at the prospect of once again clamoring into the bowels of the earth. He pushed the thoughts deep down inside to deal with later, and tried to focus on the old woman. “It's clear now, that you are no mere treasure hunters wandering blindly to your doom. Fools instead, perhaps, but an abyssal presence on the loose, our goals align for the moment.
Gorak grunted at being called a fool, but waved for the old woman to continue, when she stopped and stared at him.
“We have a way to shield you from Martok's gaze, when you cross the boundary into his domain. Once you ventured inside, you're on your own.”
“Ah, yes, quite interesting,” Khalid interjected. “How does it work?”
“Long have we lived in the shadow of Martok,” she replied. “In days past, the ritual was taught by the spirits of our ancestors that keep us safe.”
“And you're sure this works?” Shayla asked pointed.
The old woman smiled wryly. “You're asking for a degree of certainty I can't give you, my dear. It hasn't been attempted in centuries. Our stories say it does.”
“Why not go yourself an' check it out,” Gorak grunted.
“Our presence this close to Martok is like a thorn in his paw. It has festered over the years and we can feel his anger, even in slumber, growing. The risk of disturbing him would be higher, if our own people were to try to breech the seal.”
“And this way, maybe it doesn't come straight back to you, if this ritual is nothing more than smoke in the pan.” Shayla muttered.
The old woman smiled her gap tooth'd grin. “So astute, for such a pretty young thing.” She seemed amused by Shayla's derision. “Nevertheless, this is all the aid we are able to provide. It will take some days to prepare the ritual. We will lead you to the base of Martok, and point you in the direction of an entrance we believe was less used. Assuming you still wish to go?”
Gorak, without waiting for the others, grunted ascent. “We spent half a year stomping around dodging Dwerro and almost getting killed. Time we did what we came here to do.”
“Very well,” the old woman continued. “But there is something we require to complete the ritual.”
“Here it comes,” muttered Shayla.
The old woman graciously ignored Shayla's comment and continued. “The tooth of a dragonkin.”
Khalid snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, well fortunately, we happen to have...” he started, then trailed off as Gorak scowled at him.
“I didn't take any of it's damn teeth, before we got chased off,” Gorak growled. “Just the scales.”
“Yes, quite,” Khalid said somewhat dejectedly. “Well, ah, at least we know where we can possible get some.”
“Uh, are you forgetting about that very large, very angry, talking dog that chased us off?” Shayla pointed out. “Even if the corpse is still there, I doubt he's gonna let us pick over the carcass again.”
Khalid sighed, “Ah, well, yes, but what choice do we have?”
The old woman raised her hand to silence them. “We know of another,” she said. “But it will not be easy.”
“Never is,” Gorak grunted.
“There is a tribe of ogres in the foothills, that venerate one of the least of the dragonkin. While a true dragon's tooth would be better, it should suffice for our purpose. They will not sit by idly however. They consider the beast a totemic spirit of their tribe.”
“Ogres we've dealt with. Describe this dragon thing.” As he listed to the village hunters, Gorak nodded in understanding. “Wyvern,” he grunted. “Stupid and feral. Not to dangerous if we can avoid the poison. Probably hangs around the ogres for scraps of meat.” He slapped his thigh, “Just his teeth? Might not be much more than that left after we're through with him.”
“Just the teeth,” the old woman replied.
“Alright then,” he grunted. “We'll be back in a few days.”
After a journey of several days toward the mountains, the found the ogre village nestled among the hills. Gorak shifted form, and scouted it quickly from the air, coming up with a rough plan of attack. Stout timber walls encircled a collection of a dozen wood beamed structures, housing a little over a dozen ogres. Although there was a watchtower, it seemed mostly neglected and they suspected that the ogres relied on the wyvern to warn them of danger. A small cave further up in the hills was likely the wyvern's den. The plan decided, Gorak once again ranged ahead, scouting to see if the wyvern was out of its nest. Finding nothing, he circled back, and they set they plan in motion.
The ogres were caught completely unaware as Shayla, Azarek and Khalid descended invisibly from the clouds. The fight, if it could even be called that, was short, and brutal. Shayla began by incinerating a group in the center of the village. As their dying screams drew others out, Khalid went to work incapacitating them with toxic mist, followed by summoning a mass of tentacles as they creatures tried to flee for shelter.
Gorak landed on the wall, but before he could shift and cast a spell, he was forced to dodge aside as a boulder crashed into the wall at this feet. Azarek, shield held in both hands, swooped down in front of Shayla and deflected a huge rock that would have crushed her had it landed.
Between the confusion sown by Khalid's magick, and the relentless destruction wrought by Shayla, the ogres were quickly overwhelmed. As they had hoped, the sounds of battle drew the wyvern from it's nest. With a shriek from it's serpentine maw, it took to the air, racing toward the village, the sun glinting off its bluish white scales. But Khalid was prepared for this, and before it could close the distance on them, the air around it began to shimmer and thicken. The creature struggled mightily but it was all it could do to stay aloft as it's muscles seemed to work against it, twitching and jerking as it hovered in the air. It was an easy target for Gorak and Shayla, unable to even flee as the mental impediment Khalid placed upon its mind rendered practically immobile.
They flew over the smoking ruin of the village and landed beside the body of the wyvern. With a few pokes from his staff, Gorak satisfied himself that the creature was dead, and started to work on removing its teeth, along with a few choice scales.
Tired, but unscathed, they set off back toward the village, where they handed over the teeth to the old woman.
“Very well,” the old woman continued. “we will begin the preparations. I suggest you do the same.”
With their limited resources left from months on the road, there was little for the group to do but wait, once they had restocked their rations from the villages stores. Gorak inquired about watching the ritual, but was politely, but firmly refused, and chose not to push the matter. At dawn, two days following, they were summoned again to the old woman's presence.
“It is done.” She motioned with her hand, and one of the other elders brought forth three clay jugs, slightly larger than their waterskins. “At the precise moment the sun dips below the horizon tomorrow evening, you must bath yourself in this, and then step through the portal.”
“Ah, precisely?” Khalid inquired.
“We must continue the ritual here, and try to pull Martok's slumbering consciousness to us, and away from you. The timing is important,” she replied. “Argan will lead you to the base of the mountain. Two days should be more than enough time for you to reach the gate. If you don't,” she shrugged, “the choice is yours if you wish to continue. It may work, it may not.”
“There's a lot of mights and maybes in this plan,” Shayla muttered.
“Just like always,” Gorak grunted as he took a jug.
The old woman sighed, “I know the risk you take here and I wish you good fortune. Events are rushing forward to a conclusion that none of us can foresee. Martok is part of that. Upon your return, we will discuss what you have found and hopefully all become a little wiser.”
With nothing left to say, they packed their gear on Khalid's summoned horses, and followed their guides out of the village. The ride around the lake would have been almost idyllic, if it not for the looming presence of the great mountain hanging overhead. Eventually their guides led them down to the shore, where several bound reed canoes lay hidden in the brush.
“We should camp here tonight. You can cross over before dawn,” Argan said. In the fading light, he pointed out the start of the path. “It's treacherous to climb at night, but shouldn't take you more than a day to reach the hidden entrance. And it is not the eyes of the living you need to avoid, so day or night, it makes no difference when you climb.”
They set up a meager camp, with no fire, and spent a fitful night at the mountain's base. In the morning, the loaded up the canoe with their gear. Gorak walked away into the bush a few steps and then, to Khalid's surprise, returned without Sousee. Seeing his arched eyebrow, Gorak replied to the unspoken question. “I don't think she's gonna be much help in a cave, and I don't want her stuck in some musty old tomb if something happens to us. I set her free.”
“We'll keep a watch for a few days,” Argan said, by way of farewell. “In case you need us when you exit.” Gorak clasped his wrist in acknowledgment, and they pushed off onto the lake, as the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon. Behind Gorak and Azarek's powerful strokes with the paddles, they crossed the lake in short order, hiding their canoe as best they could among the sparse vegetation at the base of the mountain.
Gorak picked out the start of the path, which, from far away looked nothing more than a natural crevice, but, much to Khalid's relief, hid a cunning carved staircase into the rock. Even so, without handholds, parts of the climb were unnerving and dangerous. Sweating under the weight of his gear, and the relentless sun, Khalid paused to mop the sweat off his face. “Ah, how much further?” he asked, somewhat plaintively.
“Hard ta say,” Gorak grumbled, shielding his eyes with his, and leaning back dangerous to look up the mountain. But we ain't there yet, and we're losing the light. No time to rest now.”
They pushed on, as quickly as was safe. Finally, as the sun was no more than a thumbnail of color on the western horizon, they came to a small sheltered alcove, with a landing barely big enough for the three of them. Gorak spent several tortured moments searching for the hidden clasp, as the light slowly faded, before giving a satisfied grunt. “There it is.” Shifting what looked to be a natural stone in the wall slightly, a mechanical click sounded from behind the door, and the rock face swung inward. Gorak peered at the horizon for a moment and held up his hand, as Khalid and Shayla dug the flasks out of their packs. Holding it above their head, they waited for Gorak's signal. When his arm dropped, they upended the contents over their heads.
For a brief moment, Khalid felt refreshed as the cool liquid washed over him. In a second however, it all evaporated, leaving only a slightly oily sheen on his face and hands.
“Now or never,” Shayla muttered.
Khalid, struck by the possibility of losing that which he held most dear, hesitated for only a second as Gorak, followed by Shayla stepped through the doorway. With a deep breath, he forced himself forward then closed his eyes and he crossed the threshold and waited. A slight shudder passed through him, that could have been nothing more than his own nerves. Listening briefly in the darkness, to see if they entrance had been detected, Gorak eventually motioned at Shayla, he enacted a quick cantrip and lit their way. Khalid did the same, and breathed a sigh of relief as his magick still worked. Following Gorak, with Shayla in the middle and Azarek taking up the rear, they made their way down through a roughly carved passage, barely widen enough for Gorak's shoulders. After a few minutes of walking, they came to a broad landing, overlooking a large shaft in the mountain.
The landing and shaft walls were perfectly smooth and polished, much different from the walls of the tunnel. The shaft extended up and down as far as their light permitted them to see. Resting at the end of the landing was a huge iron cauldron, suspended by thick chains that vanished into the darkness above. While Khalid and Shayla took up watch, Gorak and Azarek examined the mechanism in the cauldron.
“This lever,” Azarek rasped. “Release.”
Gorak nodded. “Brakes here, on the winch. I think I see how this works.”
With little other alternative, they piled their gear carefully into the cauldron. Chains attached to the lip kept it from tipping over and dropping their too their deaths, but getting in was unsettling nevertheless, as the cauldron shifted and swayed. There was enough room for the four of them, but little more. Gorak nodded at Azarek, who pulled the release. “Down first,” Gorak grunted. “Dwerro like living under the rock,” he added, by way of explanation. Lacking a better reason, Khalid agreed.
The Dwerro engineering seemed unaffected by centuries of neglect, and the descent was smooth, with only a slightly rattling of the chain, that was far too loud for Khalid's comfort. Still, after almost half an hour, they'd seen little signs of movement or any hint they'd been discovered.
“Maybe we should pick up the...” Gorak grumbled, when Azarek roared. “Get down!”
The three of the dropped to the bottom of the cauldron as Azarek raised his shield just in time to take the brunt of a huge blow from above. Holding his shield in two hands, he struggled to keep it above them, as whatever was attacking them continued to rain down blows. Through Azarek's frantic defense, Khalid could just barely making a figure clinging to the chains overhead. It was emaciated and twisted, and seemed to be covered more with ridges of bone then skin. It's narrow face lacked a mouth, but it's blood red eyes burned in the darkness. It was gripping the chains with trippled jointed feet, head pointed down toward them, as its enormous arms, tipped with razor sharp scythe's instead of hands, slashed at Azarek's shield. A whip like tail swirled behind it, with a barbed tip that lashed down between the slashes, trying to slip past their defenses. Ducking low again, as the creature lashed out, Khalid barely avoided losing his head, and the things wicked appendage sheared through the soft iron rim of the cauldron.
“Oh that's enough of that,” Shayla cursed. And extended her hand past Azarek's shield as she chanted. The creature above was engulfed in roaring flames as a ball of fire exploded directly only him. To Khalid's immediate dismay, the thing seemed totally unhurt, as it scrambled back up the chains, that were now glowing red with heat.
“Ah, Shayla,” Khalid yelled. “Fire cannot harm it, it's some sort of devil.”
“Well we need to do something,” Azarek roared. “I can't hold it here forever.” Gorak had strapped on his ironwood shield, and crouched above them beside Azarek, trying to provide more cover. Khalid wracked his brain, trying to thing of a way to use any of his spells to drive the creature back, but his repertoire was uniquely unsuited for this position they were in.
“No fire eh?” Shayla muttered. “Keep it busy for a minute, when it comes back.” She closed her eyes and began to chant softly.
“What else am I gonna do,” Azarek rasped, drawing his sword as the creature reermged from the darkness. Stabbing upward with his large blade was little more effective than Shayla's magick, but the creature seemed to enjoy toying with him, slashing back with its blades.
Khalid could feel Shayla drawing in her power, as she muttered under her breath for much longer this time. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, her eyes flicked open, burning with rage. “Give me a shot!” she screamed, raising her hands above her head. Gorak and Azarek pulled their shields apart for a brief moment, giving her a clear line of sight to the creature.
This time, the explosion was soundless. The devil was enveloped a huge greenish cloud, that sizzled and crackled as it settled on the red hot metal. The creature above threw its head back in a silent scream, as its skin smoked and bony armor became pitted and cracked from the caustic mist. Gorak and Azarek overlapped their shields again, turning aside the creatures final slash before it scurried back up the chain into the darkness.
“Did I get it?” Shayla asked.
“Ya sure did,” Azarek rasped, “Sent it running.”
The held their position for a few more moments, listening in the darkness. The creature didn't reappear and Gorak and Azarek stood up, still holding their shields above the cauldron. “Ah, do you think it's gone,” Khalid asked somewhat pointlessly.
A slight tremor shook the cauldron. “It's still up there somewhere,” Gorak growled peering around the edge of his shield. “I can almost make it out.”
“Ah, what's it doing?” Khalid asked. A question that was answered an instant later, as the cauldron tilted dangerously to one side, sending them sprawling and almost dumping Azarek over the edge. A length of chain, one of the four stabilizing the lift, hurtled past them into the darkness.
The cauldron shook again, and a shower of sparks fell on them from above.
Shayla turned to Khalid with a look of fear in her eyes, and cursed exactly the same thing he was thinking.
“Oh ****.”
