Richard Rawen said:
Well LB did you ever expect to start a moral/ethics discussion with this one? Regardless it is a really Fun Read! Thanks again.
Heh, given how the story has developed, I'm surprised it took this long.
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Chapter 55
GUARDS AND WARDS
The two guards did not consider themselves friends; that was a sentiment that rarely existed within the ranks of the cult of Orcus. Brenaith Goodwyn and Nunciato Callas were the names given to them by their respective parents, but those too the pair had left behind, replaced by new names given to them on the day that they swore allegiance to the Demon Prince. They were young, still in their mid-twenties, but no less corrupt for that. Each had participated in numerous atrocities, crimes against man and nature, but were yet mere acolytes within the ranks of the demon lord’s servitors, their nascent talents just starting to awaken with the power of their dread patron. As such, they drew unpleasant duties, such as keeping guard in dank chambers.
For hours, the pair stood there in silence, flanking the door that led to the priest quarters. A pair of
everburning torches set in sconces cast a wavering illumination over the chamber. The two guards, clad in robes the color of ink, were almost invisible shadows in the flickering light.
“Our relief is late,” one of them said.
“Go complain,” the other shot back. “If you’re lucky, Zehn will just offer your testicles to the True God at the next darknight ritual.”
The first guard glowered, but did not respond.
“Hsst,” the second said a moment later. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard nothing,” the first whispered back. But both men had taken heavy maces out from under their robes. They warily watched the passage mouth on the far side of the room. One of the torches had been placed to shine into that opening, but the corridor continued only a short distance back before it bent sharply to the left.
“There, movement!” one of them warned. Both acolytes peered forward...
... and saw a small brown rat creep into the light. It looked at the acolytes, and lifted its head to sniff the air.
“I’d say we’d better not report this particular intrusion,” the first acolyte said. The second chuckled, and lifted his weapon. “I’ll teach the little bugger to assail the temple of the True God,” he said, starting forward.
But he had barely covered two steps when an armored archer stepped around the corner, lifted his bow, and fired.
The arrow flew into the acolyte’s shoulder, staggering him. Strangely, both the impact and his movements after were utterly and completely silent.
The other acolyte opened his mouth to shout a warning, but again nothing but silence came out. Recognizing the effects of a
silence spell, he turned to the door behind him, yanking hard on the handle. It resisted him, sticking in the frame, but with a furious heave he ripped it open.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw another heavily armed warrior charging toward him with a big club lifted over his head.
The young servant of Orcus had witnessed horrible things since swearing his life to the service of Darkness, but he still felt his bowels turn to water as the sight of the onrushing fighter. Knowing that the radius of the enemy spell was limited, he darted into the narrow passage beyond the door. He could see the sleeping quarters ahead at the end of the passage, lit by a soft, warm light. There was a ward by the entry, but it would recognize him as one of its own, and let him pass. All he had to do was get out of the range of the
silence, and then yell for help...
He suddenly heard his rough breathing again, which sounded startlingly loud in the close confines of the tunnel. He opened his mouth to shout...
The last thing he heard was the sound of his spine being snapped in two.
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Talen ducked the cleric’s swing. The man looked strong enough; he’d taken an arrow to the shoulder and still managed to fight. But he wasn’t well trained, and the veteran soldier easily avoided the blow. Placing his feet, he drove half of the length of his sword into the enemy priest’s body. The young man’s eyes widened, and he slumped to the ground.
He saw that Dar had taken down the other guard. Within the aura of
silence, he couldn’t tell if an alarm had been sounded, but by the way that Dar knelt beside the body to check it, he guessed not. Reaching down, he grabbed the shaft of the arrow jutting from the dead man’s shoulder, and snapped off its end.
Glancing back, he saw Allera and Varo entered the room behind him. Taking the enchanted arrow with him, he ran silently toward Dar. The fighter glanced back at him, and smiled.
Talen saw another man dressed in a cultist robe step into view. The man’s eyes widened in surprise and alarm. Unable to warn Dar, he pointed.
The fighter shot forward, even as the cultist shouted a desperate warning. There wasn’t much space between them, but as he charged forward an explosion of fire filled the narrow confines of the passageway. The flare lasted only a second, and even as it faded Dar burst through, his exposed skin blasted from the release of power from the
glyph of warding. The acolyte tried to dodge back, but Dar drove his club hard into his gut, knocking him off his feet. The evil cleric fell to the ground, gasping for breath as he clutched his ruptured stomach.
Dar turned to the side and moved out of view, deeper into the room. Talen could only rush after the fighter. He emerged into a scene of chaos.
The room was occupied by over half-dozen clerics, some armed and ready, others just getting up from bedrolls along the walls. One of the beds in the center was occupied by a bearded priest who had the dusky gray skin of an Emorite; as he rose Talen could see that his torso was covered with a web of crawling, demonic tattoos. Recovering quickly, he saw Talen and reached for the morningstar laid against the head of the bed.
Talen beat him to it, slashing him across his bare chest with his sword. The Emorite grimaced and tried to cast a spell, recognizing too late that he was engulfed within a
silence aura.
Dar was unleashing holy hell upon the other clerics. Two were already down, clutching broken bones and crushed ribs. Another three were attacking him all-out, while two others were casting spells in the back of the room, beyond the radius of the
silence surrounding Talen.
Talen saw another man stagger to his feet from the last row of beds. As his blanket fell from his naked body, the captain saw that he was covered in oozing wounds, a bloody mess of cuts that covered almost every inch of him from head to toe. Talen could not see how he could even stand, but he did, and he made his way toward the exit door, leaving bloody smudges on the floor with each step.
Out of reflex, the captain started to shout to Dar, to alert him to the escapee, only to again belatedly remember the
silence. He rushed after the man himself, but only got one step before the man he’d just wounded leapt at him in a flying tackle. Talen kept his footing only barely, but the man held onto him, his eyes burning with madness and fury.
Varo and Allera rushed into the room, weapons at the ready. Varo pointed to Talen, and Allera moved to help him. Varo started to move around the melee toward the door and the fleeing man, but the last two clerics charged to meet him in the center of the room, forcing him to turn aside.
The injured man reached the door and pulled it open, vanishing into the corridor beyond.
Dar took a hit across the shoulders, the cleric’s heavy mace hurting him even through his armor. He grimaced and spun around, clipping his foe heavily on the arm with his club. The cleric dropped his weapon, but immediately leapt at Dar, trying to grapple him while his companions attacked him from behind. But Dar merely caught up the man by the front of his robe, and hurled him into one of his fellows. Both priests fell down hard in a tangle of limbs. Dar smiled and lifted his club, slapping it against his hand as he met the last priest’s eyes in a silent stare.
You’re next, he mouthed.
Allera thrust her shortspear at the unarmored cleric. She only managed a grazing wound, but it distracted him enough for Talen to pull free and whip up his sword in a tight arc. The keen elvish blade sliced through the unholy cleric’s arm, taking it off at the elbow. Blood poured from the terrible wound, but the priest, his eyes glazed over with madness, merely leapt at Talen again, trying to gouge out his eyes with his remaining hand.
The clerics fought with an insane fanaticism, but it was becoming increasingly clear that they were far outmatched. Dar took down his foe and spun to face the two he’d knocked down, sending one flying with a pulverizing blow that send him spinning wildly in mid-air. He swiveled to catch the second with his follow-through, but one of the dying acolytes on the floor grabbed him around his left knee, knocking off his balance. The cleric exploited that opportunity, leaping onto him, sending both falling over one of the beds.
Unfortunately for the cleric, the advantage proved only temporary. Even as he started to wrap his hands around Dar’s throat, the fighter calmly drew his punching dagger, and slammed it twice to the hilt into the man’s body. The acolyte, his fingers still probing for a grip, slumped onto him, bleeding out his lifeblood onto his would-be victim.
Talen’s foe had continued to attack, but with blood pouring down his bare torso, and missing an arm, it was only a matter of time before he went down for good. Varo held his position against his two foes, engaging in a rare stretch of armed melee, but really just holding his ground until the fighters could join the battle. The cleric took only one hit, a glancing blow that grazed his left bicep, but then Talen and Dar fell upon them from behind, and that was that.
The four gathered in the middle of the room, surrounded by bodies. Varo gestured to Talen, who took the enchanted arrow out of his pocket and tossed it across the room. As soon as it cleared the beds, they could speak and hear again. A few of the dying clerics moaned in pain as they messily gave up the last of their lives, but none were able to offer any further resistance.
“Round one to us,” Dar said. He was bleeding from a few wounds, and his face was blackened where the
glyph had burned him, but Allera healed him, and within a few seconds vitality had surged back into his body, bringing him back to full strength.
“One escaped,” Talen said.
“We must continue to press them,” Varo said, “While the initiative is still ours.”
The door on the other side of the room was still open, revealing another corridor beyond. The passage was broad, almost twelve feet wide, with walls of utterly smooth black rock, and an arched ceiling ten feet above. As they moved warily forward, they saw that the corridor ended in a pair of huge doors of black stone. The doors were intricately carved with scenes of demons tormenting mortal souls. As they drew nearer, their light sources played shadows across these carvings, making them seem almost alive.
“Foulness,” Allera said, looking away from the doors.
Dar shrugged and started toward the nearer, but Varo stopped him with a raised hand.
“Hold,” he said. “They are almost certainly warded against intrusion.”
“Every second we delay gives them time to prepare a defense,” Talen said.
“This will not take long. I am going to disguise my appearance,” Varo said. “Then I will summon creatures that will challenge the door. Follow the creatures, but do not get in their way. Do not charge blindly in, and do not let yourselves get cut off from the exit. If seriously injured, fall back to the entry, if you can; Allera, you should be ready to use your skills if it is needed.”
The healer nodded. “I am ready.”
If the enemy is overwhelming, we will need to retreat and wait for another chance. That narrow passage beyond the bedchamber can be held easily by one man against many; we can fall back there if needed.”
Talen nodded. “A good plan, priest.” He looked at Dar. “Keep an eye on my back, mercenary.”
“You just watch what’s ahead of you, captain.”
Varo took a step back and began casting. His form shimmered and became indistinct; a moment later it was replaced by the form of the Emorite underpriest Talen had just killed, accurate down to the bloody gash across his bare chest. Without pause he moved into a second spell, reaching out through his divine connection across the planes of existence, summoning aid.
Wisps of ugly gray fog appeared before the cleric, materializing into the form of a pair of muscled, fiendish apes. They looked at Varo, who pointed to the doors, and grunted a command. The summoned creatures moved to his bidding, heaving at the heavy portals with their considerable mass and strength. The doors opened; something shimmered between them, a wave of energy that was there and gone in a flash. Whatever it was, the apes clearly survived it, moving ahead into the space beyond.
The companions had a chance to see a massive chamber, dominated by a tall platform in the middle.
Then chaos erupted.
