Lazybones
Adventurer
Don't worry, we'll get back to the Doomed Bastards eventually.
Also, in my writing this month I reached a point in the story where things were set at a pretty dramatic fork, and I kept going back and forth on which way I wanted it to go. So I've decided to pose the question to you, the readers of this story. When we get there, I'll post a poll thread to gauge your thoughts. I'll go ahead and write a few chapters down each path so that I don't lose too much time in resuming the story.
* * * * *
Chapter 37
A BETTER UNDERSTANDING
At the Seer’s comment, Jasek glanced back, but instead of the wizard’s smirk, his eyes were drawn to the expression on Ghazaran’s face. The cleric’s features remained utterly cool, but there was something in his eyes, an intensity, that sent a cold chill down the thief’s spine. For a moment, he thought that the cleric would go in after the Duke himself, but other than a slight clenching of his fists, he made no move.
He turned back, unable to resist watching the warrior’s end. But to his surprise, Aerim was still fighting, still alive. Bloody wounds covered his upper torso, and as he watched, a blade took his left leg out from under him. That should have ended it right there, but as Jasek watched in amazement Aerim lurched forward, ducking under a sweeping blade that would have taken him in the neck, leaping off his good leg, twisting in mid-air out of the path of a second blade. Another hit him in the torso as he reached the apogee of his leap, but he was already through, and it knocked him forward rather than back into the trap. He spun around and fell, but rolled forward, and came up into a crouch, breathing heavily.
“Take us across,” Ghazaran commanded. The five of them pressed close around the Seer, who invoked his magic, opening a dimension door that took them far down the passage, ahead of Aerim and well past the area of risk. Navev followed a few moments later.
Gesturing for Falah and Parzad to watch the corridor ahead—it bent around another corner to the left after a short distance further—Ghazaran turned to Aerim. He offered no aid as the Duke pulled himself to his feet. He had suffered grievous wounds, but they had already witnessed how quickly he healed.
“That was a foolish and unnecessary risk,” the cleric said. “With the resources at our disposal, we would have found a way to get across.”
Aerim fixed the cleric with his usual hard stare. “Perhaps now we each understand the other,” he said. Grimacing slightly as he put weight on his injured leg, he walked past the priest without another word, heading down the corridor toward the bend. When he walked past the Seer, his hand suddenly shot out. His palm smacked hard into the wizard’s cheek, hard enough to knock him off his feet. The Seer fell to the ground, stunned; his stoneskin had protected him from serious injury, but the suddenness of the attack had caught him off guard.
After a second, fury replaced surprise, and he lifted his hands, beginning the somatic gestures needed for a spell.
Aerim merely looked down at him, with less emotion than if the Seer had been a stone he’d inadvertently dislodged. The wizard hesitated, looking at the others. No one made any move to interfere. The Seer snarled and pushed himself back to his feet, but by the time he’d turned back to the Duke, Aerim had already turned away and was walking toward the bend in the passage.
The others followed. Parzad and Falah lingered behind, waiting for their master, but they went on around the corner after a nod from Ghazaran, leaving him and the wizard alone for a moment. The Seer looked back at the cleric, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Then he turned and followed after the rest of the group.
The cleric looked back once more at the deadly storm of spinning blades, and then turned and followed them.
The bend in the passage was followed by only a few dozen strides before it culminated in another of the mithral vault doors. Like the others they had encountered thus far, this one had a wheel-lock to operate it on this side; like the others it had been designed to prevent egress, not entry. Jasek was already scanning the door for hidden traps or other threats; as the Seer and Ghazaran rejoined the group he nodded to Falah that he could begin to open it.
The door, like the others, took considerable effort to open, but the Razhuri fighter kept at it, twisting the wheel in a ponderous but consistent motion. When the locking mechanism finally released, the door began to swing outward, revealing a vast, dimly lit space beyond.
“By the gods,” Jasek said, the words drawn from him without conscious thought.
The chamber was larger by an order of magnitude than anything they had encountered thus far. The place was irregularly shaped, a huge cavern that stretched onward for almost two hundred feet, its far end a vague vista in the distance. The light came from everywhere and nowhere at once, a dim shimmering that suffused the very air itself. It was not enough to clearly distinguish many details, but there was one feature that caught their attention right away, and which had provoked Jasek’s curse.
It stood facing away from them, looking out into the room. The statue was massive, fifty or sixty feet tall from the bottom of its feet to the top of the sword it held outstretched above it. The depiction was of a winged man, carved with armor in an archaic style, a breastplate and greaves to cover the arms and legs, like one of the gladiators of the ancient days. Even facing away from them, they could all feel the presence of it, something in the stone that stood watching, waiting.
“A guardian,” the Seer said.
“It is not watching for us,” Ghazaran replied. As they moved forward, cautiously, their lights revealed more than the chamber’s dim glow had hidden. The walls to either side of them were carved with intricate detail, dominated with deep reliefs of armored men, warriors in stone that marched around the perimeter of the room. Those carvings seemed to extend across the length of the cavern. Most of the cavern was slightly lower than the area around the entry; the floor rose as it approached them, forming a platform of sorts upon which the huge stone angel stood sentry.
Their eyes were continuously drawn to that sentinel, dominating the room. They could all feel something from it, a sense of power in waiting, anticipating something that might happen in the next minute, or not for a thousand years. They moved forward slowly, giving its huge feet a wide berth.
It was Ozmad who finally awakened them to the danger. “The watchers stir,” the elf said. At first they all stared back up at the angel, but the huge statue had not moved. But the noise of stone grinding alerted them to what the elf had sensed, and they looked back down to see the stone warriors stepping out of the reliefs in the walls. Each stood over nine feet tall, and they shook the ground with their movements. There was a full score of them, each stepping into formation as they pulled away from the wall.
And they were fast, faster than men, the sound of their footfalls melding into a cacophony of noise that filled the chamber, building and echoing until it pounded at their senses like a hammer.
Aerim’s shout sounded over that din. “FALL BACK!” he yelled, but even as they started to retreat, the charging horde swept over them.
Also, in my writing this month I reached a point in the story where things were set at a pretty dramatic fork, and I kept going back and forth on which way I wanted it to go. So I've decided to pose the question to you, the readers of this story. When we get there, I'll post a poll thread to gauge your thoughts. I'll go ahead and write a few chapters down each path so that I don't lose too much time in resuming the story.
* * * * *
Chapter 37
A BETTER UNDERSTANDING
At the Seer’s comment, Jasek glanced back, but instead of the wizard’s smirk, his eyes were drawn to the expression on Ghazaran’s face. The cleric’s features remained utterly cool, but there was something in his eyes, an intensity, that sent a cold chill down the thief’s spine. For a moment, he thought that the cleric would go in after the Duke himself, but other than a slight clenching of his fists, he made no move.
He turned back, unable to resist watching the warrior’s end. But to his surprise, Aerim was still fighting, still alive. Bloody wounds covered his upper torso, and as he watched, a blade took his left leg out from under him. That should have ended it right there, but as Jasek watched in amazement Aerim lurched forward, ducking under a sweeping blade that would have taken him in the neck, leaping off his good leg, twisting in mid-air out of the path of a second blade. Another hit him in the torso as he reached the apogee of his leap, but he was already through, and it knocked him forward rather than back into the trap. He spun around and fell, but rolled forward, and came up into a crouch, breathing heavily.
“Take us across,” Ghazaran commanded. The five of them pressed close around the Seer, who invoked his magic, opening a dimension door that took them far down the passage, ahead of Aerim and well past the area of risk. Navev followed a few moments later.
Gesturing for Falah and Parzad to watch the corridor ahead—it bent around another corner to the left after a short distance further—Ghazaran turned to Aerim. He offered no aid as the Duke pulled himself to his feet. He had suffered grievous wounds, but they had already witnessed how quickly he healed.
“That was a foolish and unnecessary risk,” the cleric said. “With the resources at our disposal, we would have found a way to get across.”
Aerim fixed the cleric with his usual hard stare. “Perhaps now we each understand the other,” he said. Grimacing slightly as he put weight on his injured leg, he walked past the priest without another word, heading down the corridor toward the bend. When he walked past the Seer, his hand suddenly shot out. His palm smacked hard into the wizard’s cheek, hard enough to knock him off his feet. The Seer fell to the ground, stunned; his stoneskin had protected him from serious injury, but the suddenness of the attack had caught him off guard.
After a second, fury replaced surprise, and he lifted his hands, beginning the somatic gestures needed for a spell.
Aerim merely looked down at him, with less emotion than if the Seer had been a stone he’d inadvertently dislodged. The wizard hesitated, looking at the others. No one made any move to interfere. The Seer snarled and pushed himself back to his feet, but by the time he’d turned back to the Duke, Aerim had already turned away and was walking toward the bend in the passage.
The others followed. Parzad and Falah lingered behind, waiting for their master, but they went on around the corner after a nod from Ghazaran, leaving him and the wizard alone for a moment. The Seer looked back at the cleric, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Then he turned and followed after the rest of the group.
The cleric looked back once more at the deadly storm of spinning blades, and then turned and followed them.
The bend in the passage was followed by only a few dozen strides before it culminated in another of the mithral vault doors. Like the others they had encountered thus far, this one had a wheel-lock to operate it on this side; like the others it had been designed to prevent egress, not entry. Jasek was already scanning the door for hidden traps or other threats; as the Seer and Ghazaran rejoined the group he nodded to Falah that he could begin to open it.
The door, like the others, took considerable effort to open, but the Razhuri fighter kept at it, twisting the wheel in a ponderous but consistent motion. When the locking mechanism finally released, the door began to swing outward, revealing a vast, dimly lit space beyond.
“By the gods,” Jasek said, the words drawn from him without conscious thought.
The chamber was larger by an order of magnitude than anything they had encountered thus far. The place was irregularly shaped, a huge cavern that stretched onward for almost two hundred feet, its far end a vague vista in the distance. The light came from everywhere and nowhere at once, a dim shimmering that suffused the very air itself. It was not enough to clearly distinguish many details, but there was one feature that caught their attention right away, and which had provoked Jasek’s curse.
It stood facing away from them, looking out into the room. The statue was massive, fifty or sixty feet tall from the bottom of its feet to the top of the sword it held outstretched above it. The depiction was of a winged man, carved with armor in an archaic style, a breastplate and greaves to cover the arms and legs, like one of the gladiators of the ancient days. Even facing away from them, they could all feel the presence of it, something in the stone that stood watching, waiting.
“A guardian,” the Seer said.
“It is not watching for us,” Ghazaran replied. As they moved forward, cautiously, their lights revealed more than the chamber’s dim glow had hidden. The walls to either side of them were carved with intricate detail, dominated with deep reliefs of armored men, warriors in stone that marched around the perimeter of the room. Those carvings seemed to extend across the length of the cavern. Most of the cavern was slightly lower than the area around the entry; the floor rose as it approached them, forming a platform of sorts upon which the huge stone angel stood sentry.
Their eyes were continuously drawn to that sentinel, dominating the room. They could all feel something from it, a sense of power in waiting, anticipating something that might happen in the next minute, or not for a thousand years. They moved forward slowly, giving its huge feet a wide berth.
It was Ozmad who finally awakened them to the danger. “The watchers stir,” the elf said. At first they all stared back up at the angel, but the huge statue had not moved. But the noise of stone grinding alerted them to what the elf had sensed, and they looked back down to see the stone warriors stepping out of the reliefs in the walls. Each stood over nine feet tall, and they shook the ground with their movements. There was a full score of them, each stepping into formation as they pulled away from the wall.
And they were fast, faster than men, the sound of their footfalls melding into a cacophony of noise that filled the chamber, building and echoing until it pounded at their senses like a hammer.
Aerim’s shout sounded over that din. “FALL BACK!” he yelled, but even as they started to retreat, the charging horde swept over them.