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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 9
Posted 06-08-2009 at 12:00 AM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 08:24 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-11-2009 at 08:24 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
One of the furry, winged mammals attached its claws to Bors’ shoulder when Alex obliterated it with his green, wooden staff. The crushed body of the creature wailed as it spun erratically into the depths of the fortress.
Three more of the bats remained. Sharon wielded Xenon, her father’s sword, and divided one of them as it swooped at her in an attack maneuver.
Alex uttered a flame spell.
“Incenze!”
The top of his staff emitted a cone-shaped flame that scorched one of the circling vampire bats. It’s fur and wings ignited and the mammal flew outward until it crashed into the stone wall beyond the hanging chains. The smoldering creature fell into the void.
The last of the bats lunged at Rodnik. The sturdy troll held his hatchet in his hands and bashed it squarely. The vampire bat was squashed by the impact and dropped lifeless onto the stone steps.
“Let us move on, My Friends,” yelled the Sergeant-at-arms. “The Summoners await us above and must be dealt with.”
The flickering of the torches and creaking of the chains were the only noises in the cental stairway of Guardon’s Spires. Taliesin and his acquaintances ascended the steps in silence for a while. An arching, stone bridge met with the great column. It bore a line of torches that reached to the outer wall of the cylindrical void.
“Shall we venture upward or follow this walkway?” asked Gilead.
“Let us traverse this bridge and divulge what awaits us at its terminus,” replied the Liege of Mystic Down.
The mercenaries marched along the bridge. They discovered that it was also an aqueduct. A shallow causeway carried a trickling stream of water from a pipeline bored through the stair column and extended through the doorway in the outside wall. The warriors strode through the opening and found themselves in a study room. Half-a-dozen oak tables were lined in two rows. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. It bore a multitude of brightly burning candles mounted on concentric rings. Shelves of leather-bound books covered all four walls.
An iron door stood closed at the opposite end. Gilead, the Key Mage of Coermantyr, pulled down his woolen hood. He knelt against the surface of it, pressing his ear to the metal.
“It is quiet within,” he said. “Let us take a moment to look over these tomes. They may provide us with clues as to the origin and motivation of the Summoners.”
Taliesin placed his foot on one of the oak benches and opened a book on the table while he held his sword at the ready.
“This book tells of a Plane of Chaos. It is said to be controlled by Thoth, a demigod who thrives there. It also speaks of a group of Drystyx Monks who aid him. I can’t imagine who wrote this,” declared the Liege of Mystic Down. “It is authored by The Watcher.”
A sound of claws scratching on steel rasped from the door. The band of mercenaries wielded their weapons in preparation.
“Open the door, Gilead,” said the Baroness. “We shall learn who beckons us from within.”
The Key Mage of Coermantyr did as he was asked and flung open the unlocked, metal portal. He jumped clear of it, giving his friends space to contend with whoever lurked beyond.
“Please, harm me not.”
A gaunt, aged halfling cowered in the doorway.
“Long trapped in these Spires am I. In eons past troll mages sealed the Gorgon King here. Young then I was and watched as they blocked the rift to the Plane of Chaos with a great gong seal. Greedy I was and covetous of alien jewels. Many have I found since I snuck through the gateway of the troll wizards. The Daemon King was enraged at first, when separated from his master. Resigned he has become to live here and command his wolf beast soldiers. In this modest library Guardon consented to let me keep records. Lower your weapons, please.”
The huddled halfling knelt in supplication before the Gaeans.
“Long ago I forgot my name. Call me Watcher, if you will. For the many years I’ve patrolled these Spires that is what I’ve done.”
“So be it, Watcher,” Lord Taliesin answered. “Lead us to Guardon’s Chamber, if you recall its location. You are a Gaean, like us. We welcome you to return with us to our Home Realm if our mission succeeds.”
“Thank you, Great Warriors. I can see that you are here because of the recent experiments of Guardon and the Dire Queen. Saddened I was to see the hordes of Lykanthros swarm through their rift. Perhaps I will see Mystic Down again, after all.”
The Watcher smiled. Several of his teeth were missing.
“Lead you I will to the Audience Chamber of the Daemon King. Perilous, the route is, however. To reach him directly, only the beholders are able. The network of vertical tunnels they use, which run throughout these Spires. Follow me, Fellow Gaeans. A way to the top I know of, but beware of the minions of Guardon and Thoth. Throughout these chambers they hunt and lurk. To defeat the monsters and the winged architect of this edifice reach, take it will all of our martial resources.”
The gray halfling scurried through the iron door of his library. He beckoned to Lord Taliesin and Gilead for their party of warriors to follow. The Watcher drew an oak shaft and wrapped the head in strips of cloth he carried in his modest waist pack. He opened a small, pewter box and blew onto the smoldering embers it contained. The glowing fibers flared red. The ancient halfling touched the top of his makeshift torch to the tinderbox. It ignited and cast light onto the darkened hallway. The Gaean mercenaries stood close to him and their shadows formed eerie, writhing shapes on the cinderblock columns.
“Follow me,” said the decrepit humanoid. “Bonded I am with these Spires and over the years have come to know them well.”
He scurried deeper into the passage and gasped. A gathering of kobolds and beholders arose from their encampment. The single-eyed creatures addressed Lord Taliesin and his companions.
“Venture not into this fortress. It is a possession of the gorgons and their allies.”
“Yes,” another beholder said, “We act on the bidding of Thoth to serve Guardon. Refrain from dallying here.”
“Flee now, while you yet live,” declared a Kobold Sergeant.
The wiry-framed being was armed with a short lance, as were his kindred. His spiky, black hair was shaved close at the temples and cast a jagged, porcupine-like shadow on the ceiling behind him.
“We will not turn, Kobold Sergeant,” Sharon answered. “The Knights of Coermantyr have long grappled with the devious machinations of the Arkadian Summoners. My father fell in battle with the goblins. I wield his blade now and yet seek vengeance for his untimely death.”
The armored Baroness stepped forward and hurled her sword, Xenon, downward. It struck the Leader of the Kobolds on the collarbone. The hook-nosed lancer was knocked off balance and fell backward, under the beholders.
The eyes of the stone-colored creatures reflected the light of The Watcher’s torch in various hues as the sinews of their large irises dilated with anger. As the gorgons rushed toward Taliesin he hefted his broadsword in a reverse grip. The sturdy troll lifted his arms above his head and thrust the point of his blade through the eye of the nearest creature. It screamed in agony as the Liege Lord continued his charge, pumping his knees high into the spherical beast. At last he brought his arms down, running the creature through entirely and pinning it to the brick floor. The burly troll Paladin stomped one foot on the nailed beholder, making a gross, crunching sound. He gave his down-turned blade a final twist and pulled it free.
The standing kobolds and gorgons attacked the Gaeans en masse. Gilead, the Key Mage of Coermantyr, spoke a harnessing spell.
“Tractos!”
A blue ribbon of energy extended from his outstretched hands. He guided the Ethereal Cord like a lariat and trapped the kobolds in its viscous energy. As the humanoids struggled, stunned by his incantation, Gilead drew a thin dagger and slew three of them.
The remaining beholders gnashed at Rodnik and Bors with their needle-like fangs. One of the creatures spat a fireball at the Sergeant-at-arms. The blond troll batted it away with his rondache.
The Gaeans attacked in unison, quickly destroying the last of their opponents. The gaping maw of the unguarded passage lay before them.
“Carry on, we must,” said The Watcher. “Sure to know of our whereabouts the Daemon Lord is. Among themselves the gorgons communicate telepathically as well.”
The path that extended before the mercenaries was marked on both sides by numerous doors. They opted to continue down the main hall and explore the secondary chambers at a later time.
The walls of the hall widened and opened upon a spacious conference room. The Gaean travelers were surprised to see a gathering of sturdy humanoids clustered around a throne. At the perimeter of the room stood a number of doorways that extended downward into the Under Earth of the Gorgon Plane.
“I haven’t seen folk of this type before,” Lady Sharon offered. “They resemble the dwarves of legend, written of in the tomes of Coermantyr. I wonder if they found a spatial rift in their diggings in the Arkadian mountains and chose to migrate here in search of alien jewels.”
“Let us approach them and discern whether they will assist us or otherwise give us passage into the upper levels of this fortress,” said Gilead. “I recognize the braided beards and whiskers of these people from aged renderings kept by Restadicus in Coermantyr Castle. If memory serves the dwarves aided the troll folk in their struggles with Summoners and Illusionaries in eons past. It wouldn’t surprise me if we can convince them to grant us passage into this system of tunnels.”
Lady Sharon’s Key Mage stepped forward into the chamber. As the light of the standing torches shone on his woolen garb the dwarves turned to face him. They gasped in a rumbling tone. A pair of the short, bearded warriors strode to the tall troll and introduced themselves.
“Salutations, we are the Maegar. It is clear that you are from Gaea, like us. My name is Drumtone,” a red-bearded dwarf declared. “My brother here is Oxholm.”
The blond dwarf nodded his head in greeting.
“Our people mined the ore and metal veins in the Arkadian mountain range for many generations. We decided to leave, however. The lairs of the pale, Stalactite Orcs and Goblins in Mount Crow have proliferated since the subjugation of the stone trolls and maverick wizards. It has become impossible to raise sheep or youngsters amid their perpetual invasions.”
“We have not been pleased with the rampant experimentation of the Dire Queen and her daemon companion.”
“Neither have we,” the Key Mage offered. “I am Gilead, Key Mage of Coermantyr.”
The troll shook hands with the two dwarves.
Perhaps we can convince your leader that we Gaeans have a common cause and should unite. The power of the Summoners is limited beyond this Realm. If we can incapacitate or destroy them peace will once again return to our Regions.”
“Very well, Troll Magician,” said Oxholm. “Your friends are welcome to enter our Council Chamber. Let us march together to the throne of our Maegar Chieftain, Grumbold. He will be heartened to see the arrival of experienced fighters and magic users. Our leader has grown weary of the constant harassment of the daemon’s gorgon advisors.”
Gilead gestured for Taliesin and his companions to join him in the main hall of the Arkadian dwarves. The mercenaries readily emerged from the shadowy passage and strode with the Key Mage and his newfound friends through the sizeable gathering of male and female dwarves. They formed a semicircle before Grumbold’s throne. The mature dwarf’s gray beard and mustache were braided and hung to his chest. His wrinkled brow bore a golden circlet, indicating his leadership of the Maegar Clan.
“Welcome, Fellow Gaeans,” the Dwarf King rumbled. “Our spies have brought news of your approach for some hours now. We found residence here in an attempt to acquire a haphazard existence away from the haranguing orcs and goblins. There was a time when my people roamed free through the Arkadian mountains. The segregation of the stone trolls has caused a military imbalance in the mountains. The goblins now run free over our hills, making mining and farming impossible. As you can see we sealed our tunnels and passed through a spatial portal deep in the Under Earth for the safety of our offspring. Can you aid us in bringing an end to the sacrifices we must leave for the harassing beholders?”
“We can, Maegar King,” said Taliesin. “Grant us the aid of some of your elite warriors and we will concentrate our efforts to gain liberty for all the Regions of Gaea.”
“Very well,” Grumbold replied. “Drumtone and Oxholm, venture into the upper tunnels with these troll warriors. Parlay with the Chaotic Summoners or destroy them if they will not consent to peace. I give you my blessing.”
“You have our thanks, Maegar Chieftain,” said Lady Sharon. “Your loyalty will be noted in the annals of the Lore Masters in Coermantyr. Be assured that civility will one day be restored to the mines in Arkadia.”
The blond and red-haired dwarf warriors joined Taliesin and his band. They marched through one of the few portals that inclined upward rather than downward. Grumbold’s dwarves beat their tribal drums and bellowed a war song as they exited their Council Chamber.
As the fighters marched along the serpentine passage they passed many cracks and roughly hewn doorways. The cries of kobolds and beholders emanated from deep in the stone walls.
Let us not dally here,” said Drumtone. “We must conserve our energy to contend with the creatures that guard the passages ahead. These beasts are engaged in their own affairs and will not hinder us if undisturbed.”
The trickling of subterranean streams rushed through the air. At times the atmosphere was damp, indicating the proximity of hidden brooks.
The Watcher’s torch continued to burn a slow, steady flame. Many of the rocks sparkled with metallic fragments.
“Strange stones there are in this plane. Subjected to titanic pressures the Under Earth was eons ago. Enough jewels to last several lifetimes have I found in these tunnels. Alas, trade them all I would for safe passage to Mystic Down and my halfling kindred.”
“Aye, Halfling, the Maegar have also found many precious stones. It is a shame that this plane is dominated by such aggressive rulers. We have forged many fine tools and weapons since our arrival here. We dwarves wish more than all else to adequately distribute the arms into the proper hands so that the orcs may be driven from our mountain villages.”
“These tunnels are circuitous and confusing. We are blessed to have your guidance, Maegar Dwarves,” said Lady Sharon.
“We have mined the veins of copper in this ore-laden granite. The pressurized rock of this plane is indeed replete with jewels,” offered Oxholm.
Alex uttered a spell of incandescence.
“Ignis!”
The top of his green, wood staff became alight with a golden halo. It allowed the Gaeans to gaze farther into the network of interconnected mine shafts.
“You dwarves are capable spelunkers. Many of these rocks appear freshly hewn,” said the apprentice wizard.
The band of mercenaries marched for another hour. Frequently the trail curled back on itself, giving the illusion of walking in a circle. Lord Taliesin perceived that the path was spiraling upward continuously.
The fighters reached a spacious cavern that was nearly filled by a lake. Several cascades gushed into the chamber from openings in the rocks above. Sharon paused to kneel at the lake’s edge. She cupped her hand in the shimmering pool and brought the water to her lips.
“Its fresh,” she declared. “I wonder if Guardon’s Spires were formed from an ancient mountain range. I suspect that there is a high water table. It wouldn’t surprise me if our dwarf friends have divulged secrets in these mines unknown to the Daemon Lord himself.”
The warriors paused to fill their leather and gourd flasks with the mountain water. They had hardly strapped their canisters and flagons to their belts when a group of gorgons and Lykanthros emerged from an opening at the far end of the lake’s shore.
The wolf beasts howled. Their feral cries echoed over the stalagmites and stalactites that permeated the surface of the water.
“Grr! This chamber belongs to Guardon,” said a large Lykanthros. “The wolf pack is weary of the gathering Hive Builders. The Daemon Lord has brought order to our dens. We fight in his name, now, and that of the Dire Queen, Ankharet.”
“So do we, Gaeans,” bellowed a large, red beholder. I am Sordryx. We have also grown weary of the intrusion of you dwarves. The jewel offerings we received did not include unlimited exploration of these corridors.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Sordryx,” said Taliesin. “We are here on legitimate business. Our Regions have been upturned and thrown into disarray by the invading Lykanthros. They have slain our livestock unnecessarily and destroyed our crops. Guardon and Ankharet must bring a halt to their tampering with the spatial portals. We are here to convince them of that at all costs.”
Alex and Gilead combined their abilities to generate a ring of shielding.
“Fensores!” yelled the Mages of Coermantyr.
An opaque sphere surrounded the group of Gaeans.
“Fear this day have I,” said The Watcher. “Long have I avoided the great beholders and their wolf pets. Now inevitable the conflict is.”
The Lykanthros charged to the shield and grappled with it. They clawed at the wall of energy with their claws and fangs. Bors and Rodnik did not hesitate and swung their weapons through the energy field, bludgeoning a pair of the attackers.
Sordryx and the lesser gorgons united to emit a charm person spell. Their single eyes focused on the Gaeans as they vibrated their antennae, creating an eerie, subdued harmony.
The Watcher swooned under the effect of the spell.
“Sleepy I feel. Rest I must.”
The rickety, old halfling lay on the rocky shore of the lake. His lips flapped as he began to snore.
Gilead released a barrage of electric pulses. He directed the missiles at the Lykanthros as he repeatedly cried the charging spell.
“Solus!”
Half a dozen of the wolf beasts were scorched severely and threw themselves wholeheartedly into the lake to extinguish their blazing fur. The remaining Lykanthros slashed desperately at the translucent barrier. Their leader struck it hard and broke through the mage’s shield.
Sharon had her bow ready and fired a pair of shots at the aggressors. Both bolts struck their marks and brought the creatures down. The remaining wolf creatures and lesser beholders attacked the mercenaries at close range.
Taliesin swung his weapon in arching strokes, slicing and maiming at will. Several of the stone-colored beasts spat fireballs at the armored Paladin. His armor was resilient, however, and deflected the blasts completely.
Rodnik and Bors destroyed the last of the Lykanthros and turned their attention to the levitating gorgons. The sphere-shaped beings fought fiercely with the tough, Gaean warriors. They were no match for their sturdy arms and hammering weapons.
Gilead and Alex united their energies once again to create a ring of ice.
“Crystalix!”
The attacking beholders were frozen into blue shards. They dropped to the rocky floor and shattered into a myriad of pieces.
The fighters next turned their attention to Sordryx, who hovered over the center of the subterranean lake.
The giant, red gorgon incanted a forceful, charm person spell. Its massive, crimson antennae protruded over the deep water as it pointed them at the troll folk.
The Baroness was entranced by the atonal melody. She gasped and knelt on the rocks at the lake’s edge.
“Carry on, My Friends. I am overcome by this alien magic.”
Gilead and Alex fired successive volleys of electric missiles at the giant creature.
“Trentak!”
The fast-flying blasts of energy struck Sordryx. The girth of the being was at least eighteen yards in diameter. The spherical creature wobbled off kilter from the impact. The gorgon moaned and dipped into the water until halfway submerged.
Lord Taliesin, Bors and Rodnik lofted their weapons in preparation. Drumtone and Oxholm did the same.
The beholder was enraged by the attack and rose, dripping wet from the frigid lake. It charged the troll folk, creating a cresting wake in the surface of the lake as it blew over. Sordryx smashed into the fighters, knocking them off their feet. They regained their balance quickly and lunged at the giant creature, burying their weapons into its thick body to the hilt.
The being rose from the lakeshore with the fighters still clinging to their weapons lodged in its perimeter. The weight of their armored bodies was too great, however. Their swords and axes ripped through the beast. Gravity pulled them down as Sordryx ascended. The mercenaries’ weapons came together at the bottom of the hulking body. Their bodies collided and they fell several feet to the ground, weapons in hand.
The giant beholder moaned from its pouring injuries and floated erratically over the lake. It sank slowly into the murky depths.
Sharon and The Watcher awoke from the charm spell.
“What happened?” asked the Baroness.
“The great beholder was strong, but we succeeded in sending it to the bottom of this subterranean lake,” Gilead replied. “Are you two alright?’
“Fine, I am. Simply a nap I needed.”
“Let us move through the opening at the far end of this beach. I’ll wager since many of Guardon’s denizens are traveling through that place it must lead to his Throne Room,” said Lady Sharon.
The band of mercenaries did as the Baroness of Coermantyr suggested and marched across the stony beach without any sign of Sordryx or the lesser beholders. The light of Alex’s staff and The Watcher’s torch shone brightly in the drafty cavern.
The fighters entered a narrow passage carved through the stone of Guardon’s Spires.
“The Maegar Dwarves have not previously ventured this far,” Drumtone declared. “The mines of our people in the Arkadian mountains extended more deeply. We haven’t had the time to enlarge our settlement in this plane.”
“Often have I wondered about the juxtaposition of the Realms within the Mandala of the Planes,” said The Watcher. “The planes that are known; earth, fire, wood, water, electricity, air, chaos and order by Gaeans are rarely contacted. Ironically our Realm, it seems, has become a hub of sorts, a terminus if you will. If Mystic Down and Coermantyr I reach, consult I will with Restadicus and the troll folk at Bard’s Inn. Upon us a new age burgeons. Make preparations for the impending battle the warriors of Gaea must. But a pawn in a larger power struggle amid arcane entities is the Daemon Lord, Guardon.”
“I fear this is the case, Aged Halfling,” offered Gilead. “I have long researched the histories and records in the library of Coermantyr. They frequently spoke of this distribution of elemental forces within the Planar Mandala. I can only guess as to the fullest reaches of these Dharmic Segments.”
The tunnel curled upward for some time. The mercenaries continued to hear the trickling of underground water sources running through the rocks. Many of the stones sparkled with crystals and precious metals imbedded in the metallic ore. The subterranean passage widened. Taliesin and his friends strode past circular portals hewn in the walls. They were created for the passage of the legless beholders. Gashes and strands of fur were left from the prowling of the Lykanthros hordes.
“We have traveled upward for some distance,” said Lady Redthorne. “We must be parallel with Guardon’s Council Chamber.”
The tunnel curled upward to the left once more. It ended abruptly at a steel door. It had no knob or keyhole.
“Quiet, we should remain,” whispered The Watcher. “This portal blocks the entrance to the Throne Room. You magic users must concert your energies to move it asunder.”
The fighters stood back as Alex and Gilead focused their attention at the door. They incanted a forceful heat spell.
“Plasmos!”
Waves of heat filled the stone passage. The steel door creaked and popped as it became super-heated from within. Glowing, molten metal pooled around the threshold. At last a hole appeared at the center of the door. It continued to melt. Alex stepped forward and used the base of his green, wood staff to slough away the last of the crimson paste.
The Gaeans marched through the doorway and found themselves in Guardon’s Council Chamber. The large daemon sat on his stone dais. He gazed at the troll folk, dwarves and halfling as they entered his room.
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 10)
Three more of the bats remained. Sharon wielded Xenon, her father’s sword, and divided one of them as it swooped at her in an attack maneuver.
Alex uttered a flame spell.
“Incenze!”
The top of his staff emitted a cone-shaped flame that scorched one of the circling vampire bats. It’s fur and wings ignited and the mammal flew outward until it crashed into the stone wall beyond the hanging chains. The smoldering creature fell into the void.
The last of the bats lunged at Rodnik. The sturdy troll held his hatchet in his hands and bashed it squarely. The vampire bat was squashed by the impact and dropped lifeless onto the stone steps.
“Let us move on, My Friends,” yelled the Sergeant-at-arms. “The Summoners await us above and must be dealt with.”
The flickering of the torches and creaking of the chains were the only noises in the cental stairway of Guardon’s Spires. Taliesin and his acquaintances ascended the steps in silence for a while. An arching, stone bridge met with the great column. It bore a line of torches that reached to the outer wall of the cylindrical void.
“Shall we venture upward or follow this walkway?” asked Gilead.
“Let us traverse this bridge and divulge what awaits us at its terminus,” replied the Liege of Mystic Down.
The mercenaries marched along the bridge. They discovered that it was also an aqueduct. A shallow causeway carried a trickling stream of water from a pipeline bored through the stair column and extended through the doorway in the outside wall. The warriors strode through the opening and found themselves in a study room. Half-a-dozen oak tables were lined in two rows. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. It bore a multitude of brightly burning candles mounted on concentric rings. Shelves of leather-bound books covered all four walls.
An iron door stood closed at the opposite end. Gilead, the Key Mage of Coermantyr, pulled down his woolen hood. He knelt against the surface of it, pressing his ear to the metal.
“It is quiet within,” he said. “Let us take a moment to look over these tomes. They may provide us with clues as to the origin and motivation of the Summoners.”
Taliesin placed his foot on one of the oak benches and opened a book on the table while he held his sword at the ready.
“This book tells of a Plane of Chaos. It is said to be controlled by Thoth, a demigod who thrives there. It also speaks of a group of Drystyx Monks who aid him. I can’t imagine who wrote this,” declared the Liege of Mystic Down. “It is authored by The Watcher.”
A sound of claws scratching on steel rasped from the door. The band of mercenaries wielded their weapons in preparation.
“Open the door, Gilead,” said the Baroness. “We shall learn who beckons us from within.”
The Key Mage of Coermantyr did as he was asked and flung open the unlocked, metal portal. He jumped clear of it, giving his friends space to contend with whoever lurked beyond.
“Please, harm me not.”
A gaunt, aged halfling cowered in the doorway.
“Long trapped in these Spires am I. In eons past troll mages sealed the Gorgon King here. Young then I was and watched as they blocked the rift to the Plane of Chaos with a great gong seal. Greedy I was and covetous of alien jewels. Many have I found since I snuck through the gateway of the troll wizards. The Daemon King was enraged at first, when separated from his master. Resigned he has become to live here and command his wolf beast soldiers. In this modest library Guardon consented to let me keep records. Lower your weapons, please.”
The huddled halfling knelt in supplication before the Gaeans.
“Long ago I forgot my name. Call me Watcher, if you will. For the many years I’ve patrolled these Spires that is what I’ve done.”
“So be it, Watcher,” Lord Taliesin answered. “Lead us to Guardon’s Chamber, if you recall its location. You are a Gaean, like us. We welcome you to return with us to our Home Realm if our mission succeeds.”
“Thank you, Great Warriors. I can see that you are here because of the recent experiments of Guardon and the Dire Queen. Saddened I was to see the hordes of Lykanthros swarm through their rift. Perhaps I will see Mystic Down again, after all.”
The Watcher smiled. Several of his teeth were missing.
“Lead you I will to the Audience Chamber of the Daemon King. Perilous, the route is, however. To reach him directly, only the beholders are able. The network of vertical tunnels they use, which run throughout these Spires. Follow me, Fellow Gaeans. A way to the top I know of, but beware of the minions of Guardon and Thoth. Throughout these chambers they hunt and lurk. To defeat the monsters and the winged architect of this edifice reach, take it will all of our martial resources.”
The gray halfling scurried through the iron door of his library. He beckoned to Lord Taliesin and Gilead for their party of warriors to follow. The Watcher drew an oak shaft and wrapped the head in strips of cloth he carried in his modest waist pack. He opened a small, pewter box and blew onto the smoldering embers it contained. The glowing fibers flared red. The ancient halfling touched the top of his makeshift torch to the tinderbox. It ignited and cast light onto the darkened hallway. The Gaean mercenaries stood close to him and their shadows formed eerie, writhing shapes on the cinderblock columns.
“Follow me,” said the decrepit humanoid. “Bonded I am with these Spires and over the years have come to know them well.”
He scurried deeper into the passage and gasped. A gathering of kobolds and beholders arose from their encampment. The single-eyed creatures addressed Lord Taliesin and his companions.
“Venture not into this fortress. It is a possession of the gorgons and their allies.”
“Yes,” another beholder said, “We act on the bidding of Thoth to serve Guardon. Refrain from dallying here.”
“Flee now, while you yet live,” declared a Kobold Sergeant.
The wiry-framed being was armed with a short lance, as were his kindred. His spiky, black hair was shaved close at the temples and cast a jagged, porcupine-like shadow on the ceiling behind him.
“We will not turn, Kobold Sergeant,” Sharon answered. “The Knights of Coermantyr have long grappled with the devious machinations of the Arkadian Summoners. My father fell in battle with the goblins. I wield his blade now and yet seek vengeance for his untimely death.”
The armored Baroness stepped forward and hurled her sword, Xenon, downward. It struck the Leader of the Kobolds on the collarbone. The hook-nosed lancer was knocked off balance and fell backward, under the beholders.
The eyes of the stone-colored creatures reflected the light of The Watcher’s torch in various hues as the sinews of their large irises dilated with anger. As the gorgons rushed toward Taliesin he hefted his broadsword in a reverse grip. The sturdy troll lifted his arms above his head and thrust the point of his blade through the eye of the nearest creature. It screamed in agony as the Liege Lord continued his charge, pumping his knees high into the spherical beast. At last he brought his arms down, running the creature through entirely and pinning it to the brick floor. The burly troll Paladin stomped one foot on the nailed beholder, making a gross, crunching sound. He gave his down-turned blade a final twist and pulled it free.
The standing kobolds and gorgons attacked the Gaeans en masse. Gilead, the Key Mage of Coermantyr, spoke a harnessing spell.
“Tractos!”
A blue ribbon of energy extended from his outstretched hands. He guided the Ethereal Cord like a lariat and trapped the kobolds in its viscous energy. As the humanoids struggled, stunned by his incantation, Gilead drew a thin dagger and slew three of them.
The remaining beholders gnashed at Rodnik and Bors with their needle-like fangs. One of the creatures spat a fireball at the Sergeant-at-arms. The blond troll batted it away with his rondache.
The Gaeans attacked in unison, quickly destroying the last of their opponents. The gaping maw of the unguarded passage lay before them.
“Carry on, we must,” said The Watcher. “Sure to know of our whereabouts the Daemon Lord is. Among themselves the gorgons communicate telepathically as well.”
The path that extended before the mercenaries was marked on both sides by numerous doors. They opted to continue down the main hall and explore the secondary chambers at a later time.
The walls of the hall widened and opened upon a spacious conference room. The Gaean travelers were surprised to see a gathering of sturdy humanoids clustered around a throne. At the perimeter of the room stood a number of doorways that extended downward into the Under Earth of the Gorgon Plane.
“I haven’t seen folk of this type before,” Lady Sharon offered. “They resemble the dwarves of legend, written of in the tomes of Coermantyr. I wonder if they found a spatial rift in their diggings in the Arkadian mountains and chose to migrate here in search of alien jewels.”
“Let us approach them and discern whether they will assist us or otherwise give us passage into the upper levels of this fortress,” said Gilead. “I recognize the braided beards and whiskers of these people from aged renderings kept by Restadicus in Coermantyr Castle. If memory serves the dwarves aided the troll folk in their struggles with Summoners and Illusionaries in eons past. It wouldn’t surprise me if we can convince them to grant us passage into this system of tunnels.”
Lady Sharon’s Key Mage stepped forward into the chamber. As the light of the standing torches shone on his woolen garb the dwarves turned to face him. They gasped in a rumbling tone. A pair of the short, bearded warriors strode to the tall troll and introduced themselves.
“Salutations, we are the Maegar. It is clear that you are from Gaea, like us. My name is Drumtone,” a red-bearded dwarf declared. “My brother here is Oxholm.”
The blond dwarf nodded his head in greeting.
“Our people mined the ore and metal veins in the Arkadian mountain range for many generations. We decided to leave, however. The lairs of the pale, Stalactite Orcs and Goblins in Mount Crow have proliferated since the subjugation of the stone trolls and maverick wizards. It has become impossible to raise sheep or youngsters amid their perpetual invasions.”
“We have not been pleased with the rampant experimentation of the Dire Queen and her daemon companion.”
“Neither have we,” the Key Mage offered. “I am Gilead, Key Mage of Coermantyr.”
The troll shook hands with the two dwarves.
Perhaps we can convince your leader that we Gaeans have a common cause and should unite. The power of the Summoners is limited beyond this Realm. If we can incapacitate or destroy them peace will once again return to our Regions.”
“Very well, Troll Magician,” said Oxholm. “Your friends are welcome to enter our Council Chamber. Let us march together to the throne of our Maegar Chieftain, Grumbold. He will be heartened to see the arrival of experienced fighters and magic users. Our leader has grown weary of the constant harassment of the daemon’s gorgon advisors.”
Gilead gestured for Taliesin and his companions to join him in the main hall of the Arkadian dwarves. The mercenaries readily emerged from the shadowy passage and strode with the Key Mage and his newfound friends through the sizeable gathering of male and female dwarves. They formed a semicircle before Grumbold’s throne. The mature dwarf’s gray beard and mustache were braided and hung to his chest. His wrinkled brow bore a golden circlet, indicating his leadership of the Maegar Clan.
“Welcome, Fellow Gaeans,” the Dwarf King rumbled. “Our spies have brought news of your approach for some hours now. We found residence here in an attempt to acquire a haphazard existence away from the haranguing orcs and goblins. There was a time when my people roamed free through the Arkadian mountains. The segregation of the stone trolls has caused a military imbalance in the mountains. The goblins now run free over our hills, making mining and farming impossible. As you can see we sealed our tunnels and passed through a spatial portal deep in the Under Earth for the safety of our offspring. Can you aid us in bringing an end to the sacrifices we must leave for the harassing beholders?”
“We can, Maegar King,” said Taliesin. “Grant us the aid of some of your elite warriors and we will concentrate our efforts to gain liberty for all the Regions of Gaea.”
“Very well,” Grumbold replied. “Drumtone and Oxholm, venture into the upper tunnels with these troll warriors. Parlay with the Chaotic Summoners or destroy them if they will not consent to peace. I give you my blessing.”
“You have our thanks, Maegar Chieftain,” said Lady Sharon. “Your loyalty will be noted in the annals of the Lore Masters in Coermantyr. Be assured that civility will one day be restored to the mines in Arkadia.”
The blond and red-haired dwarf warriors joined Taliesin and his band. They marched through one of the few portals that inclined upward rather than downward. Grumbold’s dwarves beat their tribal drums and bellowed a war song as they exited their Council Chamber.
As the fighters marched along the serpentine passage they passed many cracks and roughly hewn doorways. The cries of kobolds and beholders emanated from deep in the stone walls.
Let us not dally here,” said Drumtone. “We must conserve our energy to contend with the creatures that guard the passages ahead. These beasts are engaged in their own affairs and will not hinder us if undisturbed.”
The trickling of subterranean streams rushed through the air. At times the atmosphere was damp, indicating the proximity of hidden brooks.
The Watcher’s torch continued to burn a slow, steady flame. Many of the rocks sparkled with metallic fragments.
“Strange stones there are in this plane. Subjected to titanic pressures the Under Earth was eons ago. Enough jewels to last several lifetimes have I found in these tunnels. Alas, trade them all I would for safe passage to Mystic Down and my halfling kindred.”
“Aye, Halfling, the Maegar have also found many precious stones. It is a shame that this plane is dominated by such aggressive rulers. We have forged many fine tools and weapons since our arrival here. We dwarves wish more than all else to adequately distribute the arms into the proper hands so that the orcs may be driven from our mountain villages.”
“These tunnels are circuitous and confusing. We are blessed to have your guidance, Maegar Dwarves,” said Lady Sharon.
“We have mined the veins of copper in this ore-laden granite. The pressurized rock of this plane is indeed replete with jewels,” offered Oxholm.
Alex uttered a spell of incandescence.
“Ignis!”
The top of his green, wood staff became alight with a golden halo. It allowed the Gaeans to gaze farther into the network of interconnected mine shafts.
“You dwarves are capable spelunkers. Many of these rocks appear freshly hewn,” said the apprentice wizard.
The band of mercenaries marched for another hour. Frequently the trail curled back on itself, giving the illusion of walking in a circle. Lord Taliesin perceived that the path was spiraling upward continuously.
The fighters reached a spacious cavern that was nearly filled by a lake. Several cascades gushed into the chamber from openings in the rocks above. Sharon paused to kneel at the lake’s edge. She cupped her hand in the shimmering pool and brought the water to her lips.
“Its fresh,” she declared. “I wonder if Guardon’s Spires were formed from an ancient mountain range. I suspect that there is a high water table. It wouldn’t surprise me if our dwarf friends have divulged secrets in these mines unknown to the Daemon Lord himself.”
The warriors paused to fill their leather and gourd flasks with the mountain water. They had hardly strapped their canisters and flagons to their belts when a group of gorgons and Lykanthros emerged from an opening at the far end of the lake’s shore.
The wolf beasts howled. Their feral cries echoed over the stalagmites and stalactites that permeated the surface of the water.
“Grr! This chamber belongs to Guardon,” said a large Lykanthros. “The wolf pack is weary of the gathering Hive Builders. The Daemon Lord has brought order to our dens. We fight in his name, now, and that of the Dire Queen, Ankharet.”
“So do we, Gaeans,” bellowed a large, red beholder. I am Sordryx. We have also grown weary of the intrusion of you dwarves. The jewel offerings we received did not include unlimited exploration of these corridors.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Sordryx,” said Taliesin. “We are here on legitimate business. Our Regions have been upturned and thrown into disarray by the invading Lykanthros. They have slain our livestock unnecessarily and destroyed our crops. Guardon and Ankharet must bring a halt to their tampering with the spatial portals. We are here to convince them of that at all costs.”
Alex and Gilead combined their abilities to generate a ring of shielding.
“Fensores!” yelled the Mages of Coermantyr.
An opaque sphere surrounded the group of Gaeans.
“Fear this day have I,” said The Watcher. “Long have I avoided the great beholders and their wolf pets. Now inevitable the conflict is.”
The Lykanthros charged to the shield and grappled with it. They clawed at the wall of energy with their claws and fangs. Bors and Rodnik did not hesitate and swung their weapons through the energy field, bludgeoning a pair of the attackers.
Sordryx and the lesser gorgons united to emit a charm person spell. Their single eyes focused on the Gaeans as they vibrated their antennae, creating an eerie, subdued harmony.
The Watcher swooned under the effect of the spell.
“Sleepy I feel. Rest I must.”
The rickety, old halfling lay on the rocky shore of the lake. His lips flapped as he began to snore.
Gilead released a barrage of electric pulses. He directed the missiles at the Lykanthros as he repeatedly cried the charging spell.
“Solus!”
Half a dozen of the wolf beasts were scorched severely and threw themselves wholeheartedly into the lake to extinguish their blazing fur. The remaining Lykanthros slashed desperately at the translucent barrier. Their leader struck it hard and broke through the mage’s shield.
Sharon had her bow ready and fired a pair of shots at the aggressors. Both bolts struck their marks and brought the creatures down. The remaining wolf creatures and lesser beholders attacked the mercenaries at close range.
Taliesin swung his weapon in arching strokes, slicing and maiming at will. Several of the stone-colored beasts spat fireballs at the armored Paladin. His armor was resilient, however, and deflected the blasts completely.
Rodnik and Bors destroyed the last of the Lykanthros and turned their attention to the levitating gorgons. The sphere-shaped beings fought fiercely with the tough, Gaean warriors. They were no match for their sturdy arms and hammering weapons.
Gilead and Alex united their energies once again to create a ring of ice.
“Crystalix!”
The attacking beholders were frozen into blue shards. They dropped to the rocky floor and shattered into a myriad of pieces.
The fighters next turned their attention to Sordryx, who hovered over the center of the subterranean lake.
The giant, red gorgon incanted a forceful, charm person spell. Its massive, crimson antennae protruded over the deep water as it pointed them at the troll folk.
The Baroness was entranced by the atonal melody. She gasped and knelt on the rocks at the lake’s edge.
“Carry on, My Friends. I am overcome by this alien magic.”
Gilead and Alex fired successive volleys of electric missiles at the giant creature.
“Trentak!”
The fast-flying blasts of energy struck Sordryx. The girth of the being was at least eighteen yards in diameter. The spherical creature wobbled off kilter from the impact. The gorgon moaned and dipped into the water until halfway submerged.
Lord Taliesin, Bors and Rodnik lofted their weapons in preparation. Drumtone and Oxholm did the same.
The beholder was enraged by the attack and rose, dripping wet from the frigid lake. It charged the troll folk, creating a cresting wake in the surface of the lake as it blew over. Sordryx smashed into the fighters, knocking them off their feet. They regained their balance quickly and lunged at the giant creature, burying their weapons into its thick body to the hilt.
The being rose from the lakeshore with the fighters still clinging to their weapons lodged in its perimeter. The weight of their armored bodies was too great, however. Their swords and axes ripped through the beast. Gravity pulled them down as Sordryx ascended. The mercenaries’ weapons came together at the bottom of the hulking body. Their bodies collided and they fell several feet to the ground, weapons in hand.
The giant beholder moaned from its pouring injuries and floated erratically over the lake. It sank slowly into the murky depths.
Sharon and The Watcher awoke from the charm spell.
“What happened?” asked the Baroness.
“The great beholder was strong, but we succeeded in sending it to the bottom of this subterranean lake,” Gilead replied. “Are you two alright?’
“Fine, I am. Simply a nap I needed.”
“Let us move through the opening at the far end of this beach. I’ll wager since many of Guardon’s denizens are traveling through that place it must lead to his Throne Room,” said Lady Sharon.
The band of mercenaries did as the Baroness of Coermantyr suggested and marched across the stony beach without any sign of Sordryx or the lesser beholders. The light of Alex’s staff and The Watcher’s torch shone brightly in the drafty cavern.
The fighters entered a narrow passage carved through the stone of Guardon’s Spires.
“The Maegar Dwarves have not previously ventured this far,” Drumtone declared. “The mines of our people in the Arkadian mountains extended more deeply. We haven’t had the time to enlarge our settlement in this plane.”
“Often have I wondered about the juxtaposition of the Realms within the Mandala of the Planes,” said The Watcher. “The planes that are known; earth, fire, wood, water, electricity, air, chaos and order by Gaeans are rarely contacted. Ironically our Realm, it seems, has become a hub of sorts, a terminus if you will. If Mystic Down and Coermantyr I reach, consult I will with Restadicus and the troll folk at Bard’s Inn. Upon us a new age burgeons. Make preparations for the impending battle the warriors of Gaea must. But a pawn in a larger power struggle amid arcane entities is the Daemon Lord, Guardon.”
“I fear this is the case, Aged Halfling,” offered Gilead. “I have long researched the histories and records in the library of Coermantyr. They frequently spoke of this distribution of elemental forces within the Planar Mandala. I can only guess as to the fullest reaches of these Dharmic Segments.”
The tunnel curled upward for some time. The mercenaries continued to hear the trickling of underground water sources running through the rocks. Many of the stones sparkled with crystals and precious metals imbedded in the metallic ore. The subterranean passage widened. Taliesin and his friends strode past circular portals hewn in the walls. They were created for the passage of the legless beholders. Gashes and strands of fur were left from the prowling of the Lykanthros hordes.
“We have traveled upward for some distance,” said Lady Redthorne. “We must be parallel with Guardon’s Council Chamber.”
The tunnel curled upward to the left once more. It ended abruptly at a steel door. It had no knob or keyhole.
“Quiet, we should remain,” whispered The Watcher. “This portal blocks the entrance to the Throne Room. You magic users must concert your energies to move it asunder.”
The fighters stood back as Alex and Gilead focused their attention at the door. They incanted a forceful heat spell.
“Plasmos!”
Waves of heat filled the stone passage. The steel door creaked and popped as it became super-heated from within. Glowing, molten metal pooled around the threshold. At last a hole appeared at the center of the door. It continued to melt. Alex stepped forward and used the base of his green, wood staff to slough away the last of the crimson paste.
The Gaeans marched through the doorway and found themselves in Guardon’s Council Chamber. The large daemon sat on his stone dais. He gazed at the troll folk, dwarves and halfling as they entered his room.
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 10)
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