He
is fun to write.
* * * * *
Chapter 304
ONE LAST TIME
The air was thick with moisture, and the stench of rot. The shaft’s wall glistened, and when one of the companions brushed against them, they came away sticky with some sort of resinous secretion.
They went down slowly, cautiously, dropping hand-over-hand along the thick ropes that they’d brought in Letellia’s
pouch of holding. The mages drifted alongside them, magical flight easing their passage, but they remained close to the ropes, in case more demons appeared and disrupted their magic. Alderis had already scouted out the shaft, which appeared to be clear to its bottom, but none of them were going to take any chances. His shield guardian rode down first by way of a
feather fall spell, and waited for them patiently at the bottom.
Dar finally touched down at the bottom of the shaft. He carried an
everburning torch, and used it to scan the immediate environs. The light brightened as Nelan joined them, the
daylight he’d cast on his shield driving back the darkness a full sixty feet. But there was nothing to see; the tunnel that led away to the east was empty.
“It appears that the tunnel echoes the original construction of the complex,” Honoratius said. “Just bored out to a greater size.”
“I hope we don’t meet whatever did the boring,” Zahera said, wrinkling her nose at the stench.
“The smell... it is... like a sewer,” Tullus said, holding a cloth over his face.
“It gets worse,” Dar said, lifting his torch in one hand,
Valor in the other, as he started down the passage.
“Are you all right?” Allera asked Honoratius, as the archmage drifted down and floated into the line behind the knights. He had returned to Letellia’s body after their rest, but the healer could see the strain that had come over the sorceress’s expression once the magical transposition had taken hold. Since then, she had carried herself as though made of glass, with deliberate movements that belied the youth and vigor of the host body.
The archmage turned and favored her with a wan smile. “I am well,” she said. “I merely wish to return my niece’s body to her in the same condition that she donated it to me.”
The passage culminated in the entrance to Rappan Athuk that the Doomed Bastards had now used several times. The pit that had been here before had been replaced by a rough slope, and the doorway at the bottom had been replaced by a more or less featureless passage. They could still see places where the original stonework remained, and occasionally the ends of timbers or jagged stone blocks jutted out from places where the tunnel had been widened.
The others caught up to Dar and the knights at the first fork. Here, the complex was mostly as it had been on their last visit, with the left passage leading to a mostly-collapsed chamber, a dead-end where they’d once bypassed the dung monster. To the right lay additional rooms, and their eventual destination. The doorway had been widened, the supporting timbers sundered and a wide swath taken out of the surrounding walls, but the way was clear.
“Keep a look out,” Dar warned. The fighter led the way, and the others had to hasten to keep his pace.
They lacked a scout, in Shay’s absence. There had been several trained scouts in the cohort that had been supposed to reinforce them today, but it appeared as though no allies would be reaching them via magical means. Honoratius had used her
arcane sight to detect the source of the interference with their magical transportion; she had reported that the unnatural storm was like a huge reverse funnel, fed by the gaping hole in the center of the valley of Rappan Athuk. She had posited that whatever was blocking them was selective; clearly it had not hindered the demons in any way. Most of their extra-dimensional spells and powers seemed to function; Dar’s magical quiver and Honoratius’s
pouch of holding both functioned normally. As a test, the arcanist had successfully opened a
dimension door, traveling across the vale where there
secure shelter had been erected. But an attempt to
teleport back to Camar not only failed, it resulted in a backlash that had nearly knocked the archmage unconscious.
“But how did we get in in the first place?” Allera had asked.
“There is an intelligence at work here, cunning, adaptive. I would not be surprised if it proved able to adjust to neutralize other tactics that we might utilize.”
“We’ll see,” Dar had said.
When Honoratius had rejoined them the next morning, the archmage had reported that Tiros and Jaduran had decided against sending more men via
wind walk to rendezvous with them. Clearly Orcus had anticipated that stratagem, and it was likely that the demon that Nelan had encountered was still warding the aerial approaches to the valley. Tiros had told them that the columns force-marching from Camar would reach Highbluff in a few days, and would then proceed at once southward to Rappan Athuk. By the time that the army reached the Dragonmarsh Lowlands, the ships of the Camarian and Razhuri fleets should have already reached the region, and they would be bringing supplies and reinforcements from a beachhead fifteen miles east of the dungeon. With what had already happened, and the obvious fact that their foe was waiting for them, Tiros had not ordered Dar to press on with the few forces he had at his disposal. But he hadn’t had to; Dar could count days on a calendar.
They made their way deeper into the complex of rooms. When they came to a staircase rough-hewn from the stone, Dar pointed out the missing step where he’d snagged his foot on their first visit. That had been a few months and a lifetime ago. They passed the pit where they’d trapped the dung monster, and the tunnel to the north where Ukas had lost his life. Dar did not linger over old memories, and led them straight on to the south. Allera rushed ahead to catch him, pressing between the silent forms of Alexion and Xenos, who followed him like shadows.
“Dar, wait a moment, please.”
The fighter turned, and for a moment Allera was surprised to see something in his eyes, a focus that was almost frightening. Then he seemed to recognize her, and that look faded. He glanced back, and saw that the others had fallen behind; Tullus was flagging, and was being helped by Marcus, while Alderis drifted in the rear alongside his shield guardian, which had been slowed some in navigating the stairs and the pit.
Dar nodded, and waited for everyone to catch up.
“You’ve all been briefed on what we encountered this way before, and the route that Honoratius has sketched out. The route down to the first temple is open now, but we’ll be taking the river down to the second temple.”
“The river clearance is pretty tight, right, sir?” Alexion asked
“Yeah, at places. But Nelan’s spell will keep you from getting too wet, knight.”
“I was thinking more about if we were attacked while on the river, sir.”
“Yeah, well, if that happens, just poke that sticker of yours into the nearest demon, and keep doing that until it stops moving. Any other questions? All right, let’s get going.”
They made their way to the end of the tunnel, which had been a tight fit, before. Now the opening into the river cavern was a huge, gaping hole. Even Alderis’s shield guardian did not need to duck to enter.
As Nelan’s shield filled the cavern with
daylight, the companions came to an abrupt halt.
“Well, that’s new,” Dar said.
They stared at a huge... thing, which squatted in the middle of the cavern, near the bank of the river. It looked like a statue at first glance, its bloated, hideous form instantly recognizable to those of them who had spent time in Rappan Athuk before. The goat-horns of the thing didn’t quite touch the ceiling, but its sheer mass made Alderis’s construct seem tiny by comparison, even though the representation of the Demon was only a few feet taller. The thing lacked legs, its lower body bulging out in a fat mass that splayed out across the floor. Their light glistened on its substance, and as they watched, sick pustules of filth trickled down its frame, adding to a slick mess of filth gathered around its base.
A smell so foul that it hit them like a physical blow washed over them. Tullus bent over and voided his stomach, and even the stalwart knights looked pale.
“That thing... it’s made of crap!” Xenos exclaimed.
“No,” Dar said. “No... we killed it...”
With an ugly, noisome sucking sound, the mound of filth shaped like Orcus shifted. At first it seemed like it was coming apart under its own weight, but then it rose, its fat body rising on legs that seemed to grow out of its mass.
The companions watched in horror as the fecal-demon stared down at them. Then it took a step forward.
The dung monster, given new life and form by the will of Orcus, attacked.
