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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 12
Posted 06-07-2009 at 11:40 PM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:30 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:30 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Nighthawk and his goblins and the merfolk came to the aid of their friends and assaulted the firbolgs and gargoyles with their various arms. The Minions of Chaos were smitten severely by the prepared warriors of the redoubt. Many gargoyles succumbed to their wounds and fell lifeless to the obsidian cobbles. The group of firbolgs screamed in frustration while a number of their more aggressive kindred fell victim to the keen swordsmanship of Sharon and Taliesin. Bors, Rodnik and Fangoz rendered additional berserker attacks, convincing the sharp-toothed firbolgs that their intentions to defend their Realm were serious.
Thoth sensed that things were not going as he’d planned. He drew in a deep breath to release a shower of caustic flame when Gearzon, Bjorn and The Watcher interrupted him. They pelted the dragon’s snout with a volley of stones flung smartly from their slings. The strong dragon wrested his body away from the slashing seraphs. He drove his shoulders through two stone columns bordering one of the windows. The cinderblock supports buckled against the massive pressure and the demigod flew free of the confining fortress.
Dweeble Dworx and his Arachnoid relatives looked up from their post at the base of Guardon’s Spires. They communicated with mindsong among themselves as the dragon circled the mountainous Spires and spewed green flame.
Starfling and Flamering flew after Thoth but were no match for the adult dragon’s wingspan. The thick-scaled creature ignored the stinging fireballs of the wyverns and headed past the habitat of the Hive Builders into the red horizon. Vexed, the young dragons returned to help Jalhi and her anthromorph rangers.
The tigresses were absorbed in a vicious fight with the Drystyx Monks and their soldiers. The voices of additional creatures within the Plane of Chaos echoed upward through the spatial rift. Thorgrym came to the aid of the rangers using an ebony, studded mace. Sigrid entered the melee as she incanted a martial sorcery.
“Skuldoz!”
The lich troll’s forearms and quarterstaff were covered in azure energy. The arcane spell enhanced the offensive impact of her flurried attack as she battered Zolgnath. The firbolg was taken by surprise by the Sentinel’s adept use of her weapon. He gasped in shock and covered his face in his robed arms.
“Retreat, My Legions!” yelled the Leader of the Drystyx Monks. “This harassment is intolerable. Thoth has claimed this plane and scans it now for sources of energy. We will return and aid him with additional fervor.”
The firbolgs and gargoyles that still stood leapt with the black-cloaked wizards through the open gate. They spiraled downward to hold council in their tower.
“You have fought well, Mercenaries,” Glasslook said. “It is enough that Thoth was unable to bring his forces into this plane at the time of his entrance. He will fly now, for some time. Let us make room for Smithforge so that he may begin the arduous task of smelting the ore necessary to hone a permanent seal here.”
The fighters moved away from the edge of the rift where they gazed at the retreating legions. The obsidian floor of Guardon’s onetime Throne Room was strewn with dead and dying firbolgs and gargoyles.
“Anemone, come here,” said Alex. “Bors is injured.”
“It’s just a scratch, really,” declared the hefty Burgomeister. “I will cook many meals for Lord Taliesin and you warriors after this campaign.”
The merwoman gazed at the Innkeeper’s ample midriff. He had been cut a series of wounds by a daemon. The female Captain laid her webbed hands over the injury.
“I will tap the energy of the ocean. It may help close your injuries.”
Anemone’s fingertips flared with aquamarine light. The bleeding from Bors’ cuts stopped. The merwoman bound the Innkeeper’s torso with burlap.
Bors placed his hand on the Aegean Captain’s shoulder and rose to his feet.
“You have my thanks, Anemone. My legs are shaky but I can stand. I’ll have to stick to the perimeter if the Drystyx Monks return shortly.”
“Watcher, I understand that you have extensive familiarity with the corridors of this stronghold,” said Smithforge. “Will you lead me to a place where the earth is raw and unpaved? I must mine ore that bears iron and nickel for smelting.”
“To the depths of the Gorgon Plane lead you I will,” answered the ancient halfling. “Learned much have I over the decades of my imprisonment. Wise it will be to take an armed escort. We know not what hostile creatures yet prowl the lower caverns.”
“That is good advice, Halfling Historian,” offered Lord Taliesin. “I will accompany you downward. Would you care to join us, Leif?”
“Yes,” the ghoul troll replied. “Sigrid and I will accompany you on your mission. You other seraphs and Gaean mercenaries should remain here in case the Drystyx Monks or Thoth return sooner than expected.”
“We wish you luck,” said Glasslook. “Our hopes are with you. All of us await your speedy return.”
***
Taliesin, Smithforge, Sigrid and Leif followed the light of The Watcher’s torch through a series of unfamiliar passageways. The Gaeans heard rivulets of water flowing through the rocks.
“Vigilant the beholders are, and the Lykanthros, too. Waited in these crags for hours I would when the Denizens of the Daemon Lord patrolled the lower tunnels,” The Watcher explained.
The halfling’s eyes glanced from side to side with apprehension. His pale face was a mass of sunken wrinkles due to age and exposure to the elements.
The warriors reached the chamber of the Terranoids. Petra was in the midst of a conversation with another of her species when they turned to face the light of The Watcher’s torch.
“Greetings, Gaean Fighters. I was just telling my friend, Volcan, about the diminishing movement of the beholders. We both agree that Guardon’s power over them has decreased. I still have the Orb of Paryphax. Would you like me to return it now?”
“No, thank you, Earth Elemental,” answered Lord Taliesin. “We are here in search of earth loose enough to mine iron-laden ore. Do you know of such a place nearby?”
“I think so,” said Petra. “What do you suggest, Volcan?”
The male stone giant was mountainous. His boulder-like body sparkled with crystals and spots of metal. The Terranoid hummed with a bass voice as he thought about a suitable location.
“It has been a long time since I saw anyone from a plane other than this. All of us detected the disturbance in the Dharmic Equilibrium when the gong seal above was ruptured. I take it your elaborately armored companion is a Paladin from the Plane of Order,” Volcan observed.
“Your assumption is correct, Volcan,” Smithforge responded. “I am a metal craftsman and am here to assist in the restoration of harmony within the Mandala of the Planes. Where do you suggest I dig for iron and nickel?”
“Continue along your present course,” said Petra’s companion. “The minerals you seek have collected from the perpetual water deposits among the stalagmites. We wish you the best of luck in your endeavor and will keep Skjold’s Orb safe until such time as it can be restored to its proper place in the tree stronghold of the wood trolls.”
“Our thanks you have,” said The Watcher. “Dangerous these times are for the folk of these Realms. If successful our campaign is, sure we’ll be to return the orb to Arborea.”
The fighters marched beyond the Terranoid Midden. The pillars of stone grew large from their foundations in the ceiling and floor. Smithforge paid close attention to the constitution of the earth.
“This place is sufficient for my needs,” observed the seraphim. “Leif and Sigrid, you can help me to rend the rocks with a telekinetic spell. I will form a crucible and smelt the steel within.”
The Sentinels did as Smithforge suggested and gestured at the ground before them as they uttered a spell.
“Levtos!”
Bulky chunks of earth, several yards across rose from the floor of the cavern. The expeditious Paladin focused his Ethereal Energy at the ore, spinning and heating it much like a potter. The seraph held his hands at the sides of the swirling, glowing mass, causing it to form a great crucible. He then employed the following shipments of mineral-bearing earth to fill the metallic container to the brim with molten material.
“This will take some time to burn away the lesser minerals and leave us with a steel and nickel mixture,” declared Smithforge.
The Gaeans made a small cook fire and ate a spartan meal as they waited for the Paladin to complete his task. At times he folded and hammered the glowing metal with a mallet he carried from his belt.
“At last, it is finished,” cried the seraphim.
He poured water from his canteen over the smelting container, releasing a large cloud of steam. Smithforge then gestured with his arms again, using his Ethereal Magic to raise aloft a circle of steel. It was twice as thick as the original placed in Guardon’s Throne Room.
The mercenaries returned through the network of passages under the guidance of The Watcher. The fighters in the daemon’s Throne Room repelled a handful of firbolgs intending to enter the gateway on Thoth’s behalf.
“The red dragon has not returned,” said Listhew.
The red-haired seraph gazed out the windows of the tower.
“Install the new gong seal, Smithforge, while we still hold this plane with a semblance of kharmic solvency.”
“That is a good idea,” replied the swarthy Paladin.
As he gestured with his arms to guide the shiny, metal plate into position the Drystyx Monks returned in full force.
“We are ready for you this time, Ethereal Meddlers!” yelled Zolgnath.
A number of the largest monks flew into the chamber with the red-skinned wizard. The black-robed sorcerers were fanged ogres and minotaurs. They hefted massive maces made of banded stone and rusty iron. Glasslook and Heartsing rushed forward to intercept the charged Magicians of Chaos. Each of the four seraphim parried the hammering blows of their opponents’ weapons with their shields and broadswords.
The strength of the powerful ogres was too much for them and they were knocked aside before Smithforge could fuse his barrier in its rightful place.
Lord Taliesin and his fellow Gaeans gasped at the subjugation of their Ethereal Allies and ran to their aid. The number of Knights from Arborea, Coermantyr, Mystic Down and the Ghastly Fens swarmed the invading warriors. To their vexation a legion of Chaotic Creatures crowded upward from the plane below.
The Baroness yelled to her companions in the heat of battle.
“Retreat, My Friends. These foul beasts will prove the death of us if we hold here. Let us fall back while we still can and meet again with the spider creatures at the base of this stronghold. They will keep us informed of the red dragon’s return. All is not lost if we conserve our energy.”
The garrisons from the various Regions of Gaea followed the order of the Baroness and moved away from the ogre wizards. The fighters marched side-by-side through the doorway of the Throne Room and sprinted down the subsequent tunnels.
Gilead heard guttural bellows of victory echoing from above as they retreated to the front courtyard of Guardon’s Spires. Dweeble Dworx and his Arachnoid kindred waited patiently among the volcanic rocks outside the ruby-eyed statues.
“Bjorn Roundtree, a red dragon has flown from the top of the fortress. My companions were concerned for the well being of you and your two-legged friends when we saw the heat of his caustic fire. Are any of you injured?”
“Only one of us, and not severely,” answered the halfling. “We were forced to retreat despite the assistance of these Paladins from the Plane of Order. The Drystyx Monks and their aggressive legions were determined to establish an encampment in this plane despite the redoubt we prepared. I suggest that you consult with your fellow Hive Builders and warn them that a war has begun between the planes. They are sure to be confronted by the ogres and minotaurs in a matter of hours. You may be forced to build a new Hive a greater distance from this menacing fortress.”
“That is wise advice,” Dweeble hummed. “In past ages our ancestors left word that they faced troublesome entities such as the ones you speak of today. I will lead my brethren to our Hive and hold council there with the elders who live at the heart of our labyrinth.”
“Very well, My Eight-legged Friend,” said Bjorn. “We will pass through a spatial portal of our own for now. Be assured that we will meet again with strengthened forces after consulting with Restadicus and Wotan.”
The Arachnoids bowed in farewell and skittered over the red hills to their hive. Bjorn addressed his taller acquaintances.
“The Hive Builders are strong and resourceful. I expect they’ll last a goodly time despite the harassment of the Legions of Chaos. Gilead and Leif, Join with Alex and Reoren to generate a planar gate. We will only suffer unnecessary military casualties if we remain here.”
“This is the truth,” answered the Key Mage of Coermantyr.
The other wizards focused their arcane energy on a single location as they brought forth a planar rift.
“Spiros!”
A crimson sphere expanded into a doorway and the mass of Gaean mercenaries marched through it. They found themselves on the mossy hills of the Burial Ruins at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens.
The warriors did not pause to eat and marched at a fast pace across the marshy fields to the edge of the Forest of Coermantyr. By nightfall the pinnacles of Sharon’s Castle were within sight. A number of villagers and Knights of Coermantyr helped to guide oxen and sheep to the roadside. The residents of the Region were aware of the urgency of the situation and did their best to hurry their champions along the way.
Restadicus and Wotan awaited the fighters in the central hall of the stronghold.
“Please, Warriors,” said the Leader of the Lore Masters. “Inform us as to the events that have recently occurred.”
“We were unable to turn Thoth and the Drystyx Monks from the breach,” Listhew declared. “Smithforge succeeded in creating a new gong seal but was thwarted from putting it in place by the ambitious Denizens of Chaos.”
“Restadicus, we have a Planar War on our hands,” said Glasslook. “You and the other Lore Masters must travel with us to the breach in the Gorgon Plane. If we do not get the new gong seal in place we will be forced to consult again with Hydro and possibly the neighboring planes. The red dragon flies now in the Realm of the Arachnoids and seeks passage into Gaea. It is only a matter of time before he succeeds.”
“Very well,” answered the magenta-cloaked sorcerer. “I regret that we have reached an impasse much like those listed in the ancient tomes. The mages of this Realm combined their resources with you seraphim before. It appears that this is our only option now, as well.”
The villagers of Coermantyr Castle brough fresh horses for the two-dozen wizards and the fighters of various races. They were laden with staples and water. The mercenaries set forth toward the Crossroads that same evening with torches ablaze.
Lord Taliesin and his allies reached the Burial Ruins of the Ghastly Fens under the light of the twin moons. One waxed and the other waned to a crescent.
The Gaeans tethered their steeds to clusters of cattails nearby. The male and female wizards of Coermantyr Castle grouped themselves in a circle within the standing pillars of the aging ruins.
Restadicus and Wotan generated a large spatial portal with hands extended outward.
“Spiros!”
A crimson sphere expanded into a broad gateway. The fighters and sorcerers marched through it and found themselves at the base of Guardon’s Spires.
“Ah!” cried Bjorn. “Dweeble and the other Hive Builders are nowhere to be seen. They have ventured onward prudently. It is not wise to remain near these marauding monks and daemons, let alone Thoth.”
“Very well, Halfling,” said Lord Taliesin. “Your strange acquaintances have demonstrated their willingness to assist us when possible. We wish them the best in this dire situation. Let us travel into Guardon’s stronghold. I’m sure we’ll encounter many creatures who claim it for their own.”
The Gaeans followed the advice of their Leader and entered the central courtyard of the Spires. The two, tall griffon statues yet glared down at the visitors with their eerie, ruby eyes.
“No matter how many times I see those creatures they give me the creeps,” Anemone confessed. “Whoever built them certainly didn’t mean to provide us with a warm welcome.”
The fighters entered the main reception chamber and were surprised to find it redecorated. The tapestries that bore the likenesses of Lykanthros and gorgons now included images of firbolgs, gargoyles and minotaurs with Thoth at their head.
“Magic works fast in these parts, it seems,” observed Wotan.
The blond wizard scratched his beard in contemplation.
“If there is time later it may be wise to consult with Siegemunde and gain his input on the recent events. He has dabbled in more experimental sorceries at his Martial Academy than we in Coermantyr.”
The mercenaries began their ascent of the curving steps to the upper chambers when gorgons and minotaurs accosted them. The spherical, single-eyed creatures descended from their stairless tunnels in the ceiling and walls. The bull-headed anthromorphs stomped forward from the top of the stairway. Each of the large, cloven-hoofed barbarians wielded a formidable war hammer.
Restadicus and the Lore Masters contended with the levitating beholders.
“Stasis!” they yelled.
The spherical beasts were incapsulated in silver nets of light. The beholders were completely immobilized as they fell victim to the bolts of the Aegean’s crossbows, the slings of the halflings and the arrows of Sigrid and Sharon. The gorgons dripped green blood from their injuries and collapsed into mounds of pulsating, gray jelly.
Zolgnath’s minotaurs were not as susceptible to the inhibiting magic of the Lore Masters. They shirked the restraining nets with ease and engaged the fighters in a fierce melee.
Fangoz stood eye-to-eye with the tallest and exchanged blows with the snorting, horned bull troll. The other fighters dodged the hammering attacks of the red-eyed anthromorphs by rolling on the ground. Jalhi and her amazon rangers were much faster than the minotaur and slashed at the backs of the creature’s legs with their curved blades. Gnoll and his wood trolls parried the strikes of their attackers with their shields and counter-attacked with their broadswords. A number of the creatures were brought to their knees and vanquished by the Arboreans.
Starfling and Flamering spat fireballs at the bull trolls, blinding many of them. Reoren and the Knights of Coermantyr moved in with Lady Sharon at the lead. They lunged in at their opponents with their spears and swords. The anthromorphs from the Plane of Chaos were no match for the united barrage of the various races of Gaea. Many of them were defeated and those that lived fled rapidly up the stairway from which they emerged in search of supplemental forces.
“We have done well here,” said Rodnik. “Let us continue upward for the sake of all our Regions.”
The burly Sergeant-at-arms carried his hatchet with one hand and a burning torch with the other.
The Watcher led the citizens of Coermantyr and the other warriors up the red-carpeted steps to the adjoining level of Guardon’s Spires. They stood before a hallway lit with torches burning brightly.
“Much wealth there lies within these neighboring rooms,” declared the grizened halfling. “Investigate within, if you so wish.”
“We can take a brief look at the goods along this path, Watcher,” offered Lord Taliesin. “Let us keep in mind the impending risk to our Regions if we do not succeed. I miss the solitude of my Tower and the company of my troll villagers.”
The soldiers of Mystic Down and Knights of Coermantyr opened the adjoining doors. Each of the locks was free. Nighthawk and the other goblins took a few moments to open a number of chests and boxes.
The defected goblin Sergeant found a handsome dagger. Sharon’s Knights acquired a collection of chain mail gauntlets and tough, leather boots.
“Let’s move on,” said Restadicus. “We must do what we can to turn the Drystyx Monks and their legions.”
The mercenaries reached the end of the hall. They beheld the chamber with three portals passed earlier by the Gaeans.
“Traverse through the central door, we should,” declared The Watcher. “It will take us to the main stairway.”
The halfling gestured with his torch for the fighters to follow.
Reoren marveled at the lamps swaying in the mild breeze of the spacious, cylindrical chasm.
“This fortress intrigues me,” said the lich merchant. “It was constructed long ago and speaks of a lasting conflict between contending magics.”
The battalion of warriors traveled upward for a short while when their path was blocked by the shadowy vampire, Claude.
“Do not attack us again,” declared Jalhi Bengal. “You have been warned, Night Feeder.”
“Alas, I give my word that I shall not, Fierce Ranger. In the time that you soldiers were gone I fed on the rats and Lykanthros that meander throughout this stronghold. My hunger has been assuaged for a goodly time. The presence of you travelers of various alignments has piqued my curiosity. I have begun to wonder if I may yet return to the throne of my castle on Mount Crow.”
“That is a possibility, Ancient Vampire,” answered Wotan. “Your race brought a balance in the feud with the goblins and orcs long ago. During the past war with the stone trolls and servants of the Dire Queen your people were forced to escheat their rightful holdings. Now that the great swamp dwellers have returned to their own affairs we can assist you in returning to your lands in the Arkadian Mountain Range. I doubt that the stone trolls will again venture into the wooded Regions.”
“That is true,” replied Fangoz. “My grandfather and his kin were bloodthirsty and ambitious. Since their single-minded sieges my race has adopted a contemplative lifestyle. Now that Ankharet has been destroyed the vampires may again partake of the trade routes in the highlands.”
“Very well, Mortals,” said Claude. “I will help you if I can. In turn I ask that you let me enter your magic gateway when the time is right.”
“We have a deal, Night Feeder,” answered Jalhi. “I don’t trust you but will let you march among us if you behave yourself.”
The motley band of Gaeans continued onward. A consort of firbolgs and gargoyles again attacked them. The winged daemons forewent the stairs and glided downward in the dark shaft with outspread wings. Some of the green and bronze humanoids spat acrid balls of flame. The projectiles left trails of green and red fire between the iron chains.
Sigrid and Leif drew taught longbows and released a volley of arrows up at their attackers. Their shots were accurate. Several of the gargoyles plummeted from their positions with wings and bodies riddled with shafts.
The firbolgs rushed down the stairway. Their glowing, crimson bodies illuminated the central, stone column with an eerie hue. Claude was the first to enter the fray. He sunk his fangs into the closest creature. It howled and clawed at the cloaked vampire but could not break his grip.
Jalhi watched in awe as Claude’s eyes exuded fiery light from the luminescent blood of his prey. Lord Taliesin stepped to the night feeder’s side and dropped a hammering blow upon the nearest firbolg. Sharon and Fangoz were quick to follow and parried the slashing fangs of the Drystyx Legions. They circled like the anthromorph rangers, landing crushing blows to their adversaries’ legs and arms. Restadicus and the Lore Masters arrested many of the daemons with a holding spell.
“Stasis!” they cried.
The humanoids were encapsulated in nets of light. They struggled vehemently and several of them broke loose. Thorgrym, the Lich Town guard, ran up the steps to meet the gargoyles. He held a short sword in one hand and a dirk in the other. The sturdy ghoul troll unleashed a flurry of pivoting strikes to a green daemon, sending it to the void in a shower of blood.
Jalhi’s wyverns clung to her shoulder raiment and fired a series of missiles as she charged forward. The tiger women joined with the merfolk captains as they attacked the cluster of firbolgs. Sponge and Anemone fired their crossbows before drawing their curved blades.
Bjorn Roundtree and Gearzon flung sharpened stones from their slings at the farthest creatures. The glowing monsters held up their arms to protect themselves from the attack.
“Good going, Gnome Cousin,” said the halfling. “We may yet lead these fighters to victory.”
The four Paladins of Order strode up the stairs to the battle. They used their long arms to smite their enemies two rows deep.
Gilead, Sharon’s Key Mage, and Alex teamed up with Leif and Sigrid to incant a time warp spell.
“Chronos!”
An amber cloud emerged from the outstretched hands of the sorcerers. It was viscous and slowed the Drystyx Invaders as it landed on them from above.
The Lore Masters incanted a spell of their own.
“Frigidos!”
A huge beam of blue ice flew from the two-dozen wizards. They gestured with their hands, guiding it up the stairs in a sweeping motion. Three out of four firbolgs were frozen solid. Gnoll and his wood trolls marched into the fray, contending with the remaining firbolgs. As they struggled with the remaining creatures the icy beings were shattered into scattered shards.
Bors lingered at the rear, favoring his injured abdomen. The final pair of gargoyles descended in front of him. They swung at Bors with their claws but he sidestepped the assault in time. The rotund Burgomeister dispatched the humanoids with swift blows from his mace. The howling daemons fell into the darkness.
“Desperate, this fight has become,” declared The Watcher. “Careful we must remain lest our number is reduced. Awaiting our return the Drystyx Monks are. Press on we should.”
“That is wise advice, Old Halfling,” Restadicus replied.
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 13)
Thoth sensed that things were not going as he’d planned. He drew in a deep breath to release a shower of caustic flame when Gearzon, Bjorn and The Watcher interrupted him. They pelted the dragon’s snout with a volley of stones flung smartly from their slings. The strong dragon wrested his body away from the slashing seraphs. He drove his shoulders through two stone columns bordering one of the windows. The cinderblock supports buckled against the massive pressure and the demigod flew free of the confining fortress.
Dweeble Dworx and his Arachnoid relatives looked up from their post at the base of Guardon’s Spires. They communicated with mindsong among themselves as the dragon circled the mountainous Spires and spewed green flame.
Starfling and Flamering flew after Thoth but were no match for the adult dragon’s wingspan. The thick-scaled creature ignored the stinging fireballs of the wyverns and headed past the habitat of the Hive Builders into the red horizon. Vexed, the young dragons returned to help Jalhi and her anthromorph rangers.
The tigresses were absorbed in a vicious fight with the Drystyx Monks and their soldiers. The voices of additional creatures within the Plane of Chaos echoed upward through the spatial rift. Thorgrym came to the aid of the rangers using an ebony, studded mace. Sigrid entered the melee as she incanted a martial sorcery.
“Skuldoz!”
The lich troll’s forearms and quarterstaff were covered in azure energy. The arcane spell enhanced the offensive impact of her flurried attack as she battered Zolgnath. The firbolg was taken by surprise by the Sentinel’s adept use of her weapon. He gasped in shock and covered his face in his robed arms.
“Retreat, My Legions!” yelled the Leader of the Drystyx Monks. “This harassment is intolerable. Thoth has claimed this plane and scans it now for sources of energy. We will return and aid him with additional fervor.”
The firbolgs and gargoyles that still stood leapt with the black-cloaked wizards through the open gate. They spiraled downward to hold council in their tower.
“You have fought well, Mercenaries,” Glasslook said. “It is enough that Thoth was unable to bring his forces into this plane at the time of his entrance. He will fly now, for some time. Let us make room for Smithforge so that he may begin the arduous task of smelting the ore necessary to hone a permanent seal here.”
The fighters moved away from the edge of the rift where they gazed at the retreating legions. The obsidian floor of Guardon’s onetime Throne Room was strewn with dead and dying firbolgs and gargoyles.
“Anemone, come here,” said Alex. “Bors is injured.”
“It’s just a scratch, really,” declared the hefty Burgomeister. “I will cook many meals for Lord Taliesin and you warriors after this campaign.”
The merwoman gazed at the Innkeeper’s ample midriff. He had been cut a series of wounds by a daemon. The female Captain laid her webbed hands over the injury.
“I will tap the energy of the ocean. It may help close your injuries.”
Anemone’s fingertips flared with aquamarine light. The bleeding from Bors’ cuts stopped. The merwoman bound the Innkeeper’s torso with burlap.
Bors placed his hand on the Aegean Captain’s shoulder and rose to his feet.
“You have my thanks, Anemone. My legs are shaky but I can stand. I’ll have to stick to the perimeter if the Drystyx Monks return shortly.”
“Watcher, I understand that you have extensive familiarity with the corridors of this stronghold,” said Smithforge. “Will you lead me to a place where the earth is raw and unpaved? I must mine ore that bears iron and nickel for smelting.”
“To the depths of the Gorgon Plane lead you I will,” answered the ancient halfling. “Learned much have I over the decades of my imprisonment. Wise it will be to take an armed escort. We know not what hostile creatures yet prowl the lower caverns.”
“That is good advice, Halfling Historian,” offered Lord Taliesin. “I will accompany you downward. Would you care to join us, Leif?”
“Yes,” the ghoul troll replied. “Sigrid and I will accompany you on your mission. You other seraphs and Gaean mercenaries should remain here in case the Drystyx Monks or Thoth return sooner than expected.”
“We wish you luck,” said Glasslook. “Our hopes are with you. All of us await your speedy return.”
***
Taliesin, Smithforge, Sigrid and Leif followed the light of The Watcher’s torch through a series of unfamiliar passageways. The Gaeans heard rivulets of water flowing through the rocks.
“Vigilant the beholders are, and the Lykanthros, too. Waited in these crags for hours I would when the Denizens of the Daemon Lord patrolled the lower tunnels,” The Watcher explained.
The halfling’s eyes glanced from side to side with apprehension. His pale face was a mass of sunken wrinkles due to age and exposure to the elements.
The warriors reached the chamber of the Terranoids. Petra was in the midst of a conversation with another of her species when they turned to face the light of The Watcher’s torch.
“Greetings, Gaean Fighters. I was just telling my friend, Volcan, about the diminishing movement of the beholders. We both agree that Guardon’s power over them has decreased. I still have the Orb of Paryphax. Would you like me to return it now?”
“No, thank you, Earth Elemental,” answered Lord Taliesin. “We are here in search of earth loose enough to mine iron-laden ore. Do you know of such a place nearby?”
“I think so,” said Petra. “What do you suggest, Volcan?”
The male stone giant was mountainous. His boulder-like body sparkled with crystals and spots of metal. The Terranoid hummed with a bass voice as he thought about a suitable location.
“It has been a long time since I saw anyone from a plane other than this. All of us detected the disturbance in the Dharmic Equilibrium when the gong seal above was ruptured. I take it your elaborately armored companion is a Paladin from the Plane of Order,” Volcan observed.
“Your assumption is correct, Volcan,” Smithforge responded. “I am a metal craftsman and am here to assist in the restoration of harmony within the Mandala of the Planes. Where do you suggest I dig for iron and nickel?”
“Continue along your present course,” said Petra’s companion. “The minerals you seek have collected from the perpetual water deposits among the stalagmites. We wish you the best of luck in your endeavor and will keep Skjold’s Orb safe until such time as it can be restored to its proper place in the tree stronghold of the wood trolls.”
“Our thanks you have,” said The Watcher. “Dangerous these times are for the folk of these Realms. If successful our campaign is, sure we’ll be to return the orb to Arborea.”
The fighters marched beyond the Terranoid Midden. The pillars of stone grew large from their foundations in the ceiling and floor. Smithforge paid close attention to the constitution of the earth.
“This place is sufficient for my needs,” observed the seraphim. “Leif and Sigrid, you can help me to rend the rocks with a telekinetic spell. I will form a crucible and smelt the steel within.”
The Sentinels did as Smithforge suggested and gestured at the ground before them as they uttered a spell.
“Levtos!”
Bulky chunks of earth, several yards across rose from the floor of the cavern. The expeditious Paladin focused his Ethereal Energy at the ore, spinning and heating it much like a potter. The seraph held his hands at the sides of the swirling, glowing mass, causing it to form a great crucible. He then employed the following shipments of mineral-bearing earth to fill the metallic container to the brim with molten material.
“This will take some time to burn away the lesser minerals and leave us with a steel and nickel mixture,” declared Smithforge.
The Gaeans made a small cook fire and ate a spartan meal as they waited for the Paladin to complete his task. At times he folded and hammered the glowing metal with a mallet he carried from his belt.
“At last, it is finished,” cried the seraphim.
He poured water from his canteen over the smelting container, releasing a large cloud of steam. Smithforge then gestured with his arms again, using his Ethereal Magic to raise aloft a circle of steel. It was twice as thick as the original placed in Guardon’s Throne Room.
The mercenaries returned through the network of passages under the guidance of The Watcher. The fighters in the daemon’s Throne Room repelled a handful of firbolgs intending to enter the gateway on Thoth’s behalf.
“The red dragon has not returned,” said Listhew.
The red-haired seraph gazed out the windows of the tower.
“Install the new gong seal, Smithforge, while we still hold this plane with a semblance of kharmic solvency.”
“That is a good idea,” replied the swarthy Paladin.
As he gestured with his arms to guide the shiny, metal plate into position the Drystyx Monks returned in full force.
“We are ready for you this time, Ethereal Meddlers!” yelled Zolgnath.
A number of the largest monks flew into the chamber with the red-skinned wizard. The black-robed sorcerers were fanged ogres and minotaurs. They hefted massive maces made of banded stone and rusty iron. Glasslook and Heartsing rushed forward to intercept the charged Magicians of Chaos. Each of the four seraphim parried the hammering blows of their opponents’ weapons with their shields and broadswords.
The strength of the powerful ogres was too much for them and they were knocked aside before Smithforge could fuse his barrier in its rightful place.
Lord Taliesin and his fellow Gaeans gasped at the subjugation of their Ethereal Allies and ran to their aid. The number of Knights from Arborea, Coermantyr, Mystic Down and the Ghastly Fens swarmed the invading warriors. To their vexation a legion of Chaotic Creatures crowded upward from the plane below.
The Baroness yelled to her companions in the heat of battle.
“Retreat, My Friends. These foul beasts will prove the death of us if we hold here. Let us fall back while we still can and meet again with the spider creatures at the base of this stronghold. They will keep us informed of the red dragon’s return. All is not lost if we conserve our energy.”
The garrisons from the various Regions of Gaea followed the order of the Baroness and moved away from the ogre wizards. The fighters marched side-by-side through the doorway of the Throne Room and sprinted down the subsequent tunnels.
Gilead heard guttural bellows of victory echoing from above as they retreated to the front courtyard of Guardon’s Spires. Dweeble Dworx and his Arachnoid kindred waited patiently among the volcanic rocks outside the ruby-eyed statues.
“Bjorn Roundtree, a red dragon has flown from the top of the fortress. My companions were concerned for the well being of you and your two-legged friends when we saw the heat of his caustic fire. Are any of you injured?”
“Only one of us, and not severely,” answered the halfling. “We were forced to retreat despite the assistance of these Paladins from the Plane of Order. The Drystyx Monks and their aggressive legions were determined to establish an encampment in this plane despite the redoubt we prepared. I suggest that you consult with your fellow Hive Builders and warn them that a war has begun between the planes. They are sure to be confronted by the ogres and minotaurs in a matter of hours. You may be forced to build a new Hive a greater distance from this menacing fortress.”
“That is wise advice,” Dweeble hummed. “In past ages our ancestors left word that they faced troublesome entities such as the ones you speak of today. I will lead my brethren to our Hive and hold council there with the elders who live at the heart of our labyrinth.”
“Very well, My Eight-legged Friend,” said Bjorn. “We will pass through a spatial portal of our own for now. Be assured that we will meet again with strengthened forces after consulting with Restadicus and Wotan.”
The Arachnoids bowed in farewell and skittered over the red hills to their hive. Bjorn addressed his taller acquaintances.
“The Hive Builders are strong and resourceful. I expect they’ll last a goodly time despite the harassment of the Legions of Chaos. Gilead and Leif, Join with Alex and Reoren to generate a planar gate. We will only suffer unnecessary military casualties if we remain here.”
“This is the truth,” answered the Key Mage of Coermantyr.
The other wizards focused their arcane energy on a single location as they brought forth a planar rift.
“Spiros!”
A crimson sphere expanded into a doorway and the mass of Gaean mercenaries marched through it. They found themselves on the mossy hills of the Burial Ruins at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens.
The warriors did not pause to eat and marched at a fast pace across the marshy fields to the edge of the Forest of Coermantyr. By nightfall the pinnacles of Sharon’s Castle were within sight. A number of villagers and Knights of Coermantyr helped to guide oxen and sheep to the roadside. The residents of the Region were aware of the urgency of the situation and did their best to hurry their champions along the way.
Restadicus and Wotan awaited the fighters in the central hall of the stronghold.
“Please, Warriors,” said the Leader of the Lore Masters. “Inform us as to the events that have recently occurred.”
“We were unable to turn Thoth and the Drystyx Monks from the breach,” Listhew declared. “Smithforge succeeded in creating a new gong seal but was thwarted from putting it in place by the ambitious Denizens of Chaos.”
“Restadicus, we have a Planar War on our hands,” said Glasslook. “You and the other Lore Masters must travel with us to the breach in the Gorgon Plane. If we do not get the new gong seal in place we will be forced to consult again with Hydro and possibly the neighboring planes. The red dragon flies now in the Realm of the Arachnoids and seeks passage into Gaea. It is only a matter of time before he succeeds.”
“Very well,” answered the magenta-cloaked sorcerer. “I regret that we have reached an impasse much like those listed in the ancient tomes. The mages of this Realm combined their resources with you seraphim before. It appears that this is our only option now, as well.”
The villagers of Coermantyr Castle brough fresh horses for the two-dozen wizards and the fighters of various races. They were laden with staples and water. The mercenaries set forth toward the Crossroads that same evening with torches ablaze.
Lord Taliesin and his allies reached the Burial Ruins of the Ghastly Fens under the light of the twin moons. One waxed and the other waned to a crescent.
The Gaeans tethered their steeds to clusters of cattails nearby. The male and female wizards of Coermantyr Castle grouped themselves in a circle within the standing pillars of the aging ruins.
Restadicus and Wotan generated a large spatial portal with hands extended outward.
“Spiros!”
A crimson sphere expanded into a broad gateway. The fighters and sorcerers marched through it and found themselves at the base of Guardon’s Spires.
“Ah!” cried Bjorn. “Dweeble and the other Hive Builders are nowhere to be seen. They have ventured onward prudently. It is not wise to remain near these marauding monks and daemons, let alone Thoth.”
“Very well, Halfling,” said Lord Taliesin. “Your strange acquaintances have demonstrated their willingness to assist us when possible. We wish them the best in this dire situation. Let us travel into Guardon’s stronghold. I’m sure we’ll encounter many creatures who claim it for their own.”
The Gaeans followed the advice of their Leader and entered the central courtyard of the Spires. The two, tall griffon statues yet glared down at the visitors with their eerie, ruby eyes.
“No matter how many times I see those creatures they give me the creeps,” Anemone confessed. “Whoever built them certainly didn’t mean to provide us with a warm welcome.”
The fighters entered the main reception chamber and were surprised to find it redecorated. The tapestries that bore the likenesses of Lykanthros and gorgons now included images of firbolgs, gargoyles and minotaurs with Thoth at their head.
“Magic works fast in these parts, it seems,” observed Wotan.
The blond wizard scratched his beard in contemplation.
“If there is time later it may be wise to consult with Siegemunde and gain his input on the recent events. He has dabbled in more experimental sorceries at his Martial Academy than we in Coermantyr.”
The mercenaries began their ascent of the curving steps to the upper chambers when gorgons and minotaurs accosted them. The spherical, single-eyed creatures descended from their stairless tunnels in the ceiling and walls. The bull-headed anthromorphs stomped forward from the top of the stairway. Each of the large, cloven-hoofed barbarians wielded a formidable war hammer.
Restadicus and the Lore Masters contended with the levitating beholders.
“Stasis!” they yelled.
The spherical beasts were incapsulated in silver nets of light. The beholders were completely immobilized as they fell victim to the bolts of the Aegean’s crossbows, the slings of the halflings and the arrows of Sigrid and Sharon. The gorgons dripped green blood from their injuries and collapsed into mounds of pulsating, gray jelly.
Zolgnath’s minotaurs were not as susceptible to the inhibiting magic of the Lore Masters. They shirked the restraining nets with ease and engaged the fighters in a fierce melee.
Fangoz stood eye-to-eye with the tallest and exchanged blows with the snorting, horned bull troll. The other fighters dodged the hammering attacks of the red-eyed anthromorphs by rolling on the ground. Jalhi and her amazon rangers were much faster than the minotaur and slashed at the backs of the creature’s legs with their curved blades. Gnoll and his wood trolls parried the strikes of their attackers with their shields and counter-attacked with their broadswords. A number of the creatures were brought to their knees and vanquished by the Arboreans.
Starfling and Flamering spat fireballs at the bull trolls, blinding many of them. Reoren and the Knights of Coermantyr moved in with Lady Sharon at the lead. They lunged in at their opponents with their spears and swords. The anthromorphs from the Plane of Chaos were no match for the united barrage of the various races of Gaea. Many of them were defeated and those that lived fled rapidly up the stairway from which they emerged in search of supplemental forces.
“We have done well here,” said Rodnik. “Let us continue upward for the sake of all our Regions.”
The burly Sergeant-at-arms carried his hatchet with one hand and a burning torch with the other.
The Watcher led the citizens of Coermantyr and the other warriors up the red-carpeted steps to the adjoining level of Guardon’s Spires. They stood before a hallway lit with torches burning brightly.
“Much wealth there lies within these neighboring rooms,” declared the grizened halfling. “Investigate within, if you so wish.”
“We can take a brief look at the goods along this path, Watcher,” offered Lord Taliesin. “Let us keep in mind the impending risk to our Regions if we do not succeed. I miss the solitude of my Tower and the company of my troll villagers.”
The soldiers of Mystic Down and Knights of Coermantyr opened the adjoining doors. Each of the locks was free. Nighthawk and the other goblins took a few moments to open a number of chests and boxes.
The defected goblin Sergeant found a handsome dagger. Sharon’s Knights acquired a collection of chain mail gauntlets and tough, leather boots.
“Let’s move on,” said Restadicus. “We must do what we can to turn the Drystyx Monks and their legions.”
The mercenaries reached the end of the hall. They beheld the chamber with three portals passed earlier by the Gaeans.
“Traverse through the central door, we should,” declared The Watcher. “It will take us to the main stairway.”
The halfling gestured with his torch for the fighters to follow.
Reoren marveled at the lamps swaying in the mild breeze of the spacious, cylindrical chasm.
“This fortress intrigues me,” said the lich merchant. “It was constructed long ago and speaks of a lasting conflict between contending magics.”
The battalion of warriors traveled upward for a short while when their path was blocked by the shadowy vampire, Claude.
“Do not attack us again,” declared Jalhi Bengal. “You have been warned, Night Feeder.”
“Alas, I give my word that I shall not, Fierce Ranger. In the time that you soldiers were gone I fed on the rats and Lykanthros that meander throughout this stronghold. My hunger has been assuaged for a goodly time. The presence of you travelers of various alignments has piqued my curiosity. I have begun to wonder if I may yet return to the throne of my castle on Mount Crow.”
“That is a possibility, Ancient Vampire,” answered Wotan. “Your race brought a balance in the feud with the goblins and orcs long ago. During the past war with the stone trolls and servants of the Dire Queen your people were forced to escheat their rightful holdings. Now that the great swamp dwellers have returned to their own affairs we can assist you in returning to your lands in the Arkadian Mountain Range. I doubt that the stone trolls will again venture into the wooded Regions.”
“That is true,” replied Fangoz. “My grandfather and his kin were bloodthirsty and ambitious. Since their single-minded sieges my race has adopted a contemplative lifestyle. Now that Ankharet has been destroyed the vampires may again partake of the trade routes in the highlands.”
“Very well, Mortals,” said Claude. “I will help you if I can. In turn I ask that you let me enter your magic gateway when the time is right.”
“We have a deal, Night Feeder,” answered Jalhi. “I don’t trust you but will let you march among us if you behave yourself.”
The motley band of Gaeans continued onward. A consort of firbolgs and gargoyles again attacked them. The winged daemons forewent the stairs and glided downward in the dark shaft with outspread wings. Some of the green and bronze humanoids spat acrid balls of flame. The projectiles left trails of green and red fire between the iron chains.
Sigrid and Leif drew taught longbows and released a volley of arrows up at their attackers. Their shots were accurate. Several of the gargoyles plummeted from their positions with wings and bodies riddled with shafts.
The firbolgs rushed down the stairway. Their glowing, crimson bodies illuminated the central, stone column with an eerie hue. Claude was the first to enter the fray. He sunk his fangs into the closest creature. It howled and clawed at the cloaked vampire but could not break his grip.
Jalhi watched in awe as Claude’s eyes exuded fiery light from the luminescent blood of his prey. Lord Taliesin stepped to the night feeder’s side and dropped a hammering blow upon the nearest firbolg. Sharon and Fangoz were quick to follow and parried the slashing fangs of the Drystyx Legions. They circled like the anthromorph rangers, landing crushing blows to their adversaries’ legs and arms. Restadicus and the Lore Masters arrested many of the daemons with a holding spell.
“Stasis!” they cried.
The humanoids were encapsulated in nets of light. They struggled vehemently and several of them broke loose. Thorgrym, the Lich Town guard, ran up the steps to meet the gargoyles. He held a short sword in one hand and a dirk in the other. The sturdy ghoul troll unleashed a flurry of pivoting strikes to a green daemon, sending it to the void in a shower of blood.
Jalhi’s wyverns clung to her shoulder raiment and fired a series of missiles as she charged forward. The tiger women joined with the merfolk captains as they attacked the cluster of firbolgs. Sponge and Anemone fired their crossbows before drawing their curved blades.
Bjorn Roundtree and Gearzon flung sharpened stones from their slings at the farthest creatures. The glowing monsters held up their arms to protect themselves from the attack.
“Good going, Gnome Cousin,” said the halfling. “We may yet lead these fighters to victory.”
The four Paladins of Order strode up the stairs to the battle. They used their long arms to smite their enemies two rows deep.
Gilead, Sharon’s Key Mage, and Alex teamed up with Leif and Sigrid to incant a time warp spell.
“Chronos!”
An amber cloud emerged from the outstretched hands of the sorcerers. It was viscous and slowed the Drystyx Invaders as it landed on them from above.
The Lore Masters incanted a spell of their own.
“Frigidos!”
A huge beam of blue ice flew from the two-dozen wizards. They gestured with their hands, guiding it up the stairs in a sweeping motion. Three out of four firbolgs were frozen solid. Gnoll and his wood trolls marched into the fray, contending with the remaining firbolgs. As they struggled with the remaining creatures the icy beings were shattered into scattered shards.
Bors lingered at the rear, favoring his injured abdomen. The final pair of gargoyles descended in front of him. They swung at Bors with their claws but he sidestepped the assault in time. The rotund Burgomeister dispatched the humanoids with swift blows from his mace. The howling daemons fell into the darkness.
“Desperate, this fight has become,” declared The Watcher. “Careful we must remain lest our number is reduced. Awaiting our return the Drystyx Monks are. Press on we should.”
“That is wise advice, Old Halfling,” Restadicus replied.
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 13)
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