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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 11
Posted 06-07-2009 at 11:42 PM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:29 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:29 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
He nodded at Flotsam and Jetsam.
“My father responded quickly to their actions and attempted to enter my plane. I succeeded in turning him back but must ask for your help to keep him away from the Lesser Planes.”
“We are not interested in your agenda of peace, Guardon. You have lost your taste for conquest since your spawning. It is no wonder that your sire had you sent to the Gorgon Plane,” answered the firy, glowing firbolg. “This is the dawning of a new era for the Hordes of Chaos. We will take the Plane of the Spider Creatures and after that the whole of Gaea. Leave us to our affairs or be destroyed.”
“Don’t resist us, Guardon. You have kept watch over The Spires long enough. Join us now and witness our campaign to victory!” Thoth rumbled.
“I will not be a part of this, Father. The Dharmic Equilibrium is not something to be tampered with by sole forces within the Mandala. If these are your intentions then you can count me out. I will journey beyond the reach of your Drystyx Temple and live on my own. Do as you wish but do not underestimate the resources of the Gaean mages or the entities that sleep deep in the Under Earth of the Gorgon Plane. I bid you all farewell. Perhaps we will meet again under more diplomatic circumstances.”
The bronze-skinned daemon turned away from the hovering Monks and the bound dragon. He flew fast and steady to the violet horizon. In a matter of moments he vanished into the hazy clouds.
“My son is stubborn,” the red dragon said. “He will do as he chooses but will regret his lack of support in this venture. Release me from this childish tether, Zolgnath. I will not pursue Guardon. We must contend with the barrier he created. It will not hold if we concert our forces upon it. Let us return to the Drystyx Temple and combine our legions for transport through the spatial portal. There is much work to be done in little time.”
***
Jalhi Bengal and her allies stood at the end of a long hallway. Her gold wyverns flapped above her shoulders. They growled impatiently.
“Easy, Starfling. Rest, Flamering,” said the tiger ranger. “We will be free of this confining fortress soon enough. First we must make sure that the Gorgon King and his accomplice will leave the Fens unharmed.”
“That is what I hope for also, Jalhi,” Fangoz offered. “Let us push onward and discover what secrets this stronghold has in store for us.”
The motley band of fighters collected torches posted along the walls of the passage. They used their tinderboxes to ignite them and illuminate their surroundings.
The warriors marched for a short while when they encountered a band of draconian soldiers. They ran toward the Gaeans in upright positions. The reptilian humanoids wielded swords and spears in their clawed hands.
Thorgrym, the Chief Guardian of Lich Town, uttered a warning to the creatures.
“Do not attack us, Lizard Trolls. We have business with Guardon and won’t be turned.”
The draconians did not respond and continued their charge. The sturdy ghoul troll lifted his crossbow and pulled the trigger. The bolt flew straight to the nearest humanoid, striking him squarely in the chest. His plate armor was compromised and he fell dead to the side of the passage.
Leif and Sigrid combined their magical abilities to engage their opponents.
“Chronos!” they cried.
The thickening mist that appeared around them disoriented the lizard trolls. They swung their blade-bearing weapons at the Gaeans but were delayed by the sticky clouds. Jalhi’s wyverns easily evaded the assailing blows and roasted two of the dragon trolls with hot balls of fire.
The band of feline rangers entered the melee with their curved daggers. They utilized their greater numbers to swamp the attackers two to one. The dozen draconians flailed wildly at the anthromorph amazons but were no match for their speed and cunning. Fangoz and Thorgrym strode into the fight with their respective weapons. The strong warriors finished off the remaining reptilian humanoids with hammering strikes.
The Gaeans searched the armored bodies of the lizard trolls and found a number of silver and copper coins among their trappings. They continued down the passage holding their torches aloft.
“This fortress is strangely quiet,” said Sigrid. “I wonder how our companions fare on their own routes.”
“I’m sure that our experienced friends can fend for themselves,” replied Leif. “For the time that I traveled with them they dispatched any accosting opponents with firm vigor.”
The cinderblock walls of the passageway were made of a fine, brick mixture. Ancient artisans had etched sets of eighteen and twenty-four blocks with bas-reliefs. A number of the renderings resembled gargoyles similar to Guardon, along with needle-toothed beholders and feral Lykanthros. The light of the Gaeans’ torches flickered over the carvings in the walls, giving them the illusion of motion and changing expressions.
The travelers reached an oak door that had a rusty keyhole below its steel handle.
“Let me have a look at the lock on this door,” Thorgrym said.
The sometime Guardian of the City of the Ghoul Trolls held his brightly burning torch close to the metal lock. He reached to his cummerbund and withdrew a slender knife. The resourceful soldier inserted the tool into the keyhole and twisted it about for a few moments.
“Ah, I think I’ve got the cantilever,” declared Thorgrym.
He gave the handle of his small blade a final twist and the bolt flew free of the wall. The thick, oak door opened inward to the same vertical stairway that Gilead and Taliesin reached. The same smoldering lanterns descended to various levels from chains lodged in the distant ceiling.
“We should venture upward with caution,” Fangoz offered.
The great, stone troll rested his heavy club on his shoulder as he looked at the hanging lamps.
“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the others reached this staircase before us. It gives the impression of being the central, vertical passage in Guardon’s Spires.”
“That is a good idea, Stone Troll,” Jalhi observed. “My amazon rangers will lead the way. If the Baroness and her acquaintances did traverse these steps then we are sure to encounter the full brunt of whatever sleeping entities they awakened.”
In accordance with the feline anthromorph’s prediction, the warriors had only marched for a short while when they were interrupted by a gurgling voice.
“My pets have been destroyed by you mortals. They would have grown to full vampires if they had hunted more years. Now I am friendless.”
A looming shadow fell from its hanging place on one of the chains above the steps. A cloaked vampire glided out of its dive and landed before the cat women. As the light of the fighters’ torches shone on the undead troll they got a good look at his appearance. His face was emaciated and deathly pale. The vampire’s ancient eyes bore red irises that dilated to tiny, black dots once exposed to the light.
“I am Claude,” said the vampire. “I thirst.”
The spindly predator lurched for the nearest ranger, a gray-furred archer. Just as he sunk his sharp fangs into her neck Sigrid uttered a ward undead spell.
“Clarex!”
A bright, blue sphere of light appeared between her opened hands. Claude was startled by the mystic light and released his grip on the anthromorph.
“Leave me be,” he cried. “I only seek repayment for my lost kindred.”
“That is not acceptable,” answered the female Sentinel. “We are here on legitimate business. Do not hinder us again or you shall be destroyed.”
“Very well, Sturdy Sorceress,” Claude answered. “There was a time that the vampire clans roamed free throughout Mystic Down and Arkadia. The war with the hordes of goblins and renegade stone trolls reduced our numbers drastically. We were hunted without mercy during the daylight hours. The orcs and their kin sought to claim our castles for their own purposes. I fled from my fortress ages ago, casting aside my family name and possessions. In the night I fed on the occasional Lykanthros and goblin. Ultimately I was intercepted by a spatial portal, as I’m sure you also were.”
“That is the truth, Vampire Liege,” replied Leif. “The haphazard conjurings of Ankharet have proven to be more than a nuisance to the harmony of our Regions. We journey now to convince Guardon to leave our plane.”
“So be it, Ghoul Troll. I wish you luck. Perhaps we will meet again in Gaea once the goblin marauders have been pacified,” said Claude.
The gaunt vampire addressed the gray-furred amazon he’d accosted.
“My apologies, Ranger. I’ve gone without feeding for some time.”
“Be careful, Vampire,” the anthromorph answered. “You never know when you might need the help of the Bengal Clan.”
The cloaked night feeder lifted the edges of his cloak and leapt from the spiral stairway. The warriors heard scratchy laughter that descended into the darkness.
“I’ll wager that won’t be the last we see of that vampire. He certainly has his own agenda for the restructuring of Arkadia and the forest beyond,” Fangoz said. “My renegade cousins came at odds with the Vampire Lords in the past war. Both of our clans have diminished significantly in size since that internecine campaign. Let us continue our quest to the top of this stronghold, My Friends.”
The Gaean fighters joined the immense stone troll in the march up the cylindrical stairway. The warriors of various races traveled for some time. At last they reached the hallway leading to the dissolved door of Guardon’s Throne Room. Jalhi and her amazon relatives were the first to reach the threshold of the steel door that Gilead and Alex melted.
Sigrid gazed at the remnants of the door and the hovering portal within.
“It is clear that our companions have passed this point and returned to the Ghastly Fens,” the female Sentinel observed.
She noticed the jeweled dagger and note attached to the head of Guardon’s dais. The thin ghoul troll stepped onto the proscenium and extricated the message from its post. Sigrid read the memorandum quickly and addressed her friends.
“Our suspicions are correct. Both Lord Taliesin’s and Bjorn Roundtree’s battle parties reached this point ahead of us. The legendary gong seal below us has indeed been breached. Only this temporary, clay plug now bars the portal to the Plane of Chaos. Let us return to the Burial Ruins on the other side of the spatial breach standing before us.”
The warriors followed Sigrid’s advice and strode through the magical gate. They found themselves standing on the mossy earth by the aged stone columns and gravestones of the Ruins at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens. Taliesin, Bjorn and the other Gaeans huddled by smoky campfires nearby.
“Greetings, Friends!” Leif cried. “We are glad to see that all of you emerged from the Gorgon Plane in one piece. As I’m sure you also discovered Guardon and Ankharet were nowhere to be seen. I imagine that the Ephemeral Specters summoned by Themistokles have something to do with this.”
“We must travel to Coermantyr and consult again with Restadicus and the Lore Masters,” said Baroness Sharon. “The events that transpired in Guardon’s Spires require the attention of the adept sorcerers therein. Before we move south let us concert our arcane resources to close this portal opened by the Daemon Lord when he battled his father. It will do no good to leave an additional breach to the Gorgon Plane here.”
“That is wise advice, My Lady,” Gilead responded. “Alex, Reoren, Leif and Sigrid let us focus our energies upon this gateway and close it.”
The Key Mage of Coermantyr incanted a spatial sorcery.
“Seros!”
The other magic users gestured outward with their hands as they assisted Gilead. The portal hovering over the damp soil of the Ghastly Fens wavered for a moment then shrank to a point of white light before disappearing entirely.
The band of Gaeans set forth at a brisk pace to the City of Coermantyr. They hastened through the mist for the rest of the day and set a small camp at nightfall. The mercenaries marched again at first light. By evening they saw the brightly lit pinnacles of the matriarchal stronghold in Sharon’s Region. As they approached the gates to the settlement the farmers and merchants again cheered the passage of their champions. The warriors marched at a steady pace into the castle. Courtesans and pages hurried the fighters inward.
“Make haste, Mercenaries,” a tall concierge said. “Restadicus awaits the latest word.”
The Gaeans entered the spacious Council Chamber of the Lore Masters. The hoary, bearded mage and a number of his subordinate associates sat at the broad, crescent-shaped, oak table with oil lamps burning intensely.
“Well, what news brings you from Siegemunde and the Gorgon Plane beyond?” the aged wizard boomed.
“The gong seal has been breached by Ephemeral Specters summoned by Ankharet’s Vizier from the Plane of Chaos,” Sharon said. “We rescued the halfling, Bjorn Roundtree, as you can see. The Dire Queen was killed. Now the Demigod, Thoth, seeks to assert his influence within the Gorgon Plane and Gaea as well. There is bound to be a conflict, Restadicus.”
“This does not bode well for the delicate balance of the Planar Mandala,” answered the Leader of the Lore Masters.
“I suggest we take some time to review the historic tomes documenting the war that motivated the initial forging of the gong seal,” offered Gilead. “The opposing kharmic forces within the Dharmic Equilibrium were brought to a lasting peace by our ancestors. There must be a way for us to compartmentalize the planes once more.”
“That is wise advice, Key Mage,” answered a flaxen-haired Council Member. “Call me Wotan. Restadicus and I have discussed the ramifications of the Helix of Planes many times. It is possible that if there exist Planes of Elemental, Chaotic Energy, there may also be a Plane of Order, as it were.”
The blond wizard stroked his braided mustache and beard in contemplation.
“All of you look tired. You can use a good night’s sleep and a solid supper,” Restadicus declared. “Your actions and information are invaluable. The Lore Masters shall hold Council tonight while you recuperate from your mission. We will consult the ancient books and meet again tomorrow. By then we should have agreed as to the appropriate course of action.”
The fighters followed the advice of the Leader of the Coermantyr Wizards. They walked down the red-carpeted stairway from the Council Chamber to the dining hall below. The ambience was tangibly different from what it had been the last time the warriors ate there. There was plenty of food at the banquet table, but the minstrels and acrobats were noticeably absent.
“Rumors travel swifter than falcons in this castle,” Sharon whispered to her friends over her plate. “The people here are frequently the best source of the latest news. Eat with gusto, My Companions. We are sure to face more challenging tasks on the morn. Let us conserve our strength and rest while we still can.”
Bors was the only member of the party that seemed to be enjoying his meal. The robust Burgomeister of Wood’s End sat down with relish and dug into his second plate of roast beef, carrots and quiche.
“You have my thanks again for your splendid hospitality, Lady Sharon. I will never cease to savor your delicious board of faire,” the Innkeeper said.
The mercenaries retired to separate lodgings and slept well on the wolf-skin rugs.
The next morning Taliesin and his friends gathered again in the Council Chamber of the Lore Masters.
The entire group of adept mages, numbering over two-dozen, was present. Restadicus addressed the group of warriors.
“We wizards burned the midnight oil, so to speak,” the white-bearded mage said. “The observations of Wotan proved accurate. There are records of a variety of planes, manifesting respective energies in the Latticework of the Planar Helix. Ergo there should be a Plane of Order to balance the Plane of Chaos. The historic tomes speak of Titanic Entities that clashed in the theater of battle that we refer to now as the Burial Ruins of the Ghastly Fens. Just as Thoth once rose to infiltrate the Gorgon Plane and Gaea, so appeared Knights of the Etherium. They emerged through spatial portals of their own to combat the Armies of Chaos. They are dubbed seraphim in the historic texts. Today we will focus our resources upon our scrying glass with the intention of channeling whatever forces or individuals who may linger within the Planar Mandala. Under the threat of invasion by the Legions of Thoth and his Drystyx Monks we cannot be worse off to gain updated knowledge in regard to the Entities that may or may not exist within the kharmic layers of the Dharmic Equilibrium. I’m sorry to disclose that the old books report little more than wave after successive wave of malevolent forces who marauded the Regions of Gaea, oppressing and destroying with rampant abandon.”
“This is profound information,” said Baroness Sharon. “Please proceed with your experiment. At this point any forces that may act in the favor of the native residents of Gaea will be a welcome asset for us in the impending battle.”
The Lore Masters rose from their seats at the crescent table. Restadicus placed his scrying glass on a tall, wooden stand at the center of the room. He stepped back from the crystal sphere and incanted a spell of searching with outstretched hands.
“Bindu!”
Shimmering tendrils of white light reached from the hands of each of the wizards. They met on the surface of the scrying glass. Restadicus gasped with wonder.
“So it is. The Helix of the Planar Mandala is as the ancient tomes suggest. Elemental energies beckon from all around us. I see many things. The Spherical Plane of Gaea is here, and below lies the Gorgon Plane and the Layers of Chaos. There is a gyroscopic network of axes, for outward from us lie other planes. I sense them. There is earth, stone, air, fire, ash, plasma, iron, water, ice, wood, electricity, vacuum, oil and acid. Other planes, similar to Gaea, exist as well. They don’t have names to our knowledge. I suppose that if our situation becomes desperate we may be forced to seek aid from them. These alternate planes remind me of the far kingdoms to the east, south and west. They exude highly charged patterns of magical energy in comparison to Gaea. Perhaps this is why our lands have fallen victim to attacks in the past. I will focus our energies toward the Layers of Order.”
The Leader of the Lore Masters hummed with interest as he scanned the Ordered Plane.
“I perceive strong forces, certainly equal to those of Chaos. Let me focus within that plane and attempt to contact one of the larger Entities hovering there.”
“Hello,” Restadicus said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” a bass voice resonated. “It has been a long time since we had correspondence with anyone from Gaea. My name is Hydro. How are things going?”
“Not too well,” answered the white-haired wizard. “We are about to be attacked by Thoth and his Legions from the Plane of Chaos. Will you delegate some of your seraphim to help us turn them back, and perhaps forge a new seal in the breach that has been reopened of late?”
“Certainly,” Hydro intoned. “I will target the location of your communication module and send four of our best, Smithforge, Heartsing, Listhew and Glasslook. If you find yourself in need of more assistance feel welcome to contact us or any of the Peripheral Planes. There are quite a few of them down there, you know.”
“Thank you, Hydro. Will will see what we can do with the support of your seraphs. I’m sure we’ll speak again.”
Restadicus lowered his hands, as did the other Lore Masters. Their energy ribbons extinguished. As per Hydro’s message, four, big ovals of white light appeared in the council room. Out of these spatial portals stepped a quartet of large trolls dressed in shiny, steel plate and chain mail armor. They carried long, reflective shields at their backs and broadswords sheathed at their waists. Two of the seraph trolls were female and two were male.
A red-haired troll woman bowed and introduced herself.
“I am Listhew, at your service.”
Next a brown-haired seraph addressed Restadicus.
“Call me Glasslook.”
She shook the wizard’s hand in greeting.
“My name is Heartsing,” said a blond troll.
A swarthy, black-haired troll said, “I am Smithforge. We are glad to be here. Hydro informed us that a breach has been reopened in a neighboring plane to the Plane of Chaos. I was present at the fabrication of the original seal that prevented Thoth from invading the Higher Realms. I’m sure that once our resources have been adequately accounted for we will succeed in returning a permanent seal to its rightful location.”
“Very well,” said Restadicus. “It heartens us all to be reassured of the existence of Balancing Entities at opposite ends of the Planar Mandala. We welcome you to join with us in an endeavor to establish a redoubt at the edge of the Plane of Chaos. It will take time to forge a new gong seal even with the fortitude-laden assistance of you seraphs. Join with us as the Lore Masters generate a new portal to the onetime throne room of the Daemon Lord. We will align our wizardries in a tiered line around the temporary plug in order to give Smithforge time to mold a new gong.”
“That is wise advice,” replied Lord Taliesin. “We have long awaited the moment of returned security for our Regions. Generate the breach for us, Mages of Coermantyr, and we will sally forth into the Gorgon Plane.”
The two-dozen troll mages did not hesitate in their planned course of action and combined their caches of arcane energy to open a planar rift.
“Spiros!” they cried collectively.
A crimson gateway appeared in the center of Sharon’s Council Chamber. The steel-gilt seraphim led the charge into the world of the Arachnoids. Lord Taliesin and his mercenaries were quick to follow.
Hydro’s seraphs, hearkening from the Plane of Order, and Lord Taliesin’s acquaintances emerged through the spatial portal into the Throne Room of Guardon’s Spires. Thoth’s winged Hordes of Chaos and his Drystyx Monks had already rallied at the underside of the clay plug where the gong seal had been. The temporary, black barrier shuddered from the booms of the hammering assaults from the legions of gargoyles, firbolgs and Wizards of Chaos.
“Quickly, Gaeans, we must prepare a redoubt to turn these malevolent marauders,” said Listhew.
The red-haired troll Paladin drew her shimmering broadsword and wielded it aloft with her muscular arms.
The battalion of soldiers from the various Regions strode back from the resonating seal, forming a ring on the raised, obsidian proscenium of the Throne Room. The brightly armored seraphim held their ground, close to the edge of the burnished clay. They awaited the invasion of the Drystyx Monks and their Dragon Leader.
“This clay was shoddily hewn at best,” Smithforge observed. “I’m surprised that it resisted the forces of the desperate legions for this long. If we succeed in turning these invaders I will set myself to the task of forging a proper seal in this breach. The observations of Restadicus in Coermantyr Castle were accurate. The neighboring Realms, which occasionally orbit this one, possess resilience against the insertion of alien portals such as that which stands before us today.”
“Alas, tragic this moment is,” moaned The Watcher.
The nervous halfling clutched his face in his white-haired hands.
“The history of Guardon’s spawning and the schemes of his Demigod father long have I studied. Of the ruthlessness of the Drystyx Monks and the legions they command the collected tomes in the library below us tell. The separate energies of the neighboring planes they crave in their endless pursuit of power and influence. To think I falter what tasteless conjuring they conducted over the eons, instilling this insatiable thirst in them.”
An eerie ray of bright, green light pierced the blackened plug, creating a smoldering mark on the ceiling. A final series of blows struck the temporary barrier that Guardon created in the desperate attempt to thwart his father’s intentions. The clay shattered entirely and fell downward into the Plane of Chaos.
Thoth’s red, scaled head screeched upward through the large, disk-shaped opening in the floor of the Throne Room. He placed his massive, clawed arms on the edges of the gate and pulled his entire, sulphuric body inside. The dragon spread his wings, the tips of which reached out the windows of the Throne Room.
“Halt, Thoth,” yelled Heartsing. “You know as well as we that Hydro and the other great Entities of the Plane of Order do not tolerate hostile invasions between the Layers of the Mandala. Turn back now or face the full force of our wrath.”
“I refuse,” bellowed the dragon. “The energies of these Realms are ripe for the taking. It is folly of your leaders that they do no attempt to reap the benefits of their magical resources while they can. Now I claim this plane and those above it for the purposes of my legions. We have need for the power that resides here and will not be turned as before.”
Zolgnath and his fellow Drystyx Monks emerged through the spatial breach along with a number of screeching gargoyles, similar in form to Guardon. They attacked the seraphim immediately with their fangs and claws. The armored Knights of the Plane of Order deflected the assaults with their mirror-like shields and parried with their swords. A handful of the invaders were lanced by the mystic blades and howled from the painful inflictions.
The Drystyx Monks focused their attention on generating a noxious wave of poison gas.
“Smoldent!” they cried.
The black-cloaked sorcerers gestured with their hands as a dark cloud spilled through the air toward the Gaeans.
Gilead, Leif and Alex were prepared for such an attack and uttered a warding spell.
“Aeros!”
A potent gust of wind rushed through Guardon’s tower, dissipating the dangerous-looking cloud. A gathering of red firbolgs responded to the failed attempt of their wizards and rushed across the proscenium. The seraphs flailed at the diabolical creatures with their blades but succeeded in winging only a few of them. The rest of the monsters rushed past the four Paladins and engaged the Gaean mercenaries in hand-to-hand combat.
The Maegar Dwarves were the first to intercept the invaders. Oxholm and Drumtone yelled war cries as they swung their heavy battleaxes. The Weapons Masters deep in the mines of Mount Crow forged their blades. They struck the firbolgs hard with scythe-like motions, maiming a number of their hostile adversaries.
A swarm of bronze and green gargoyles joined the firbolgs in the fray. They met with Gnoll and the wood trolls, along with the Baroness and the Knights of Coermantyr. The daemons attacked the mercenaries with strong blows as Guardon did. Each of the fighters was accustomed to this method of attack and rolled free of the swooping claws. The Knights of Mystic Down,
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 12)
“My father responded quickly to their actions and attempted to enter my plane. I succeeded in turning him back but must ask for your help to keep him away from the Lesser Planes.”
“We are not interested in your agenda of peace, Guardon. You have lost your taste for conquest since your spawning. It is no wonder that your sire had you sent to the Gorgon Plane,” answered the firy, glowing firbolg. “This is the dawning of a new era for the Hordes of Chaos. We will take the Plane of the Spider Creatures and after that the whole of Gaea. Leave us to our affairs or be destroyed.”
“Don’t resist us, Guardon. You have kept watch over The Spires long enough. Join us now and witness our campaign to victory!” Thoth rumbled.
“I will not be a part of this, Father. The Dharmic Equilibrium is not something to be tampered with by sole forces within the Mandala. If these are your intentions then you can count me out. I will journey beyond the reach of your Drystyx Temple and live on my own. Do as you wish but do not underestimate the resources of the Gaean mages or the entities that sleep deep in the Under Earth of the Gorgon Plane. I bid you all farewell. Perhaps we will meet again under more diplomatic circumstances.”
The bronze-skinned daemon turned away from the hovering Monks and the bound dragon. He flew fast and steady to the violet horizon. In a matter of moments he vanished into the hazy clouds.
“My son is stubborn,” the red dragon said. “He will do as he chooses but will regret his lack of support in this venture. Release me from this childish tether, Zolgnath. I will not pursue Guardon. We must contend with the barrier he created. It will not hold if we concert our forces upon it. Let us return to the Drystyx Temple and combine our legions for transport through the spatial portal. There is much work to be done in little time.”
***
Jalhi Bengal and her allies stood at the end of a long hallway. Her gold wyverns flapped above her shoulders. They growled impatiently.
“Easy, Starfling. Rest, Flamering,” said the tiger ranger. “We will be free of this confining fortress soon enough. First we must make sure that the Gorgon King and his accomplice will leave the Fens unharmed.”
“That is what I hope for also, Jalhi,” Fangoz offered. “Let us push onward and discover what secrets this stronghold has in store for us.”
The motley band of fighters collected torches posted along the walls of the passage. They used their tinderboxes to ignite them and illuminate their surroundings.
The warriors marched for a short while when they encountered a band of draconian soldiers. They ran toward the Gaeans in upright positions. The reptilian humanoids wielded swords and spears in their clawed hands.
Thorgrym, the Chief Guardian of Lich Town, uttered a warning to the creatures.
“Do not attack us, Lizard Trolls. We have business with Guardon and won’t be turned.”
The draconians did not respond and continued their charge. The sturdy ghoul troll lifted his crossbow and pulled the trigger. The bolt flew straight to the nearest humanoid, striking him squarely in the chest. His plate armor was compromised and he fell dead to the side of the passage.
Leif and Sigrid combined their magical abilities to engage their opponents.
“Chronos!” they cried.
The thickening mist that appeared around them disoriented the lizard trolls. They swung their blade-bearing weapons at the Gaeans but were delayed by the sticky clouds. Jalhi’s wyverns easily evaded the assailing blows and roasted two of the dragon trolls with hot balls of fire.
The band of feline rangers entered the melee with their curved daggers. They utilized their greater numbers to swamp the attackers two to one. The dozen draconians flailed wildly at the anthromorph amazons but were no match for their speed and cunning. Fangoz and Thorgrym strode into the fight with their respective weapons. The strong warriors finished off the remaining reptilian humanoids with hammering strikes.
The Gaeans searched the armored bodies of the lizard trolls and found a number of silver and copper coins among their trappings. They continued down the passage holding their torches aloft.
“This fortress is strangely quiet,” said Sigrid. “I wonder how our companions fare on their own routes.”
“I’m sure that our experienced friends can fend for themselves,” replied Leif. “For the time that I traveled with them they dispatched any accosting opponents with firm vigor.”
The cinderblock walls of the passageway were made of a fine, brick mixture. Ancient artisans had etched sets of eighteen and twenty-four blocks with bas-reliefs. A number of the renderings resembled gargoyles similar to Guardon, along with needle-toothed beholders and feral Lykanthros. The light of the Gaeans’ torches flickered over the carvings in the walls, giving them the illusion of motion and changing expressions.
The travelers reached an oak door that had a rusty keyhole below its steel handle.
“Let me have a look at the lock on this door,” Thorgrym said.
The sometime Guardian of the City of the Ghoul Trolls held his brightly burning torch close to the metal lock. He reached to his cummerbund and withdrew a slender knife. The resourceful soldier inserted the tool into the keyhole and twisted it about for a few moments.
“Ah, I think I’ve got the cantilever,” declared Thorgrym.
He gave the handle of his small blade a final twist and the bolt flew free of the wall. The thick, oak door opened inward to the same vertical stairway that Gilead and Taliesin reached. The same smoldering lanterns descended to various levels from chains lodged in the distant ceiling.
“We should venture upward with caution,” Fangoz offered.
The great, stone troll rested his heavy club on his shoulder as he looked at the hanging lamps.
“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the others reached this staircase before us. It gives the impression of being the central, vertical passage in Guardon’s Spires.”
“That is a good idea, Stone Troll,” Jalhi observed. “My amazon rangers will lead the way. If the Baroness and her acquaintances did traverse these steps then we are sure to encounter the full brunt of whatever sleeping entities they awakened.”
In accordance with the feline anthromorph’s prediction, the warriors had only marched for a short while when they were interrupted by a gurgling voice.
“My pets have been destroyed by you mortals. They would have grown to full vampires if they had hunted more years. Now I am friendless.”
A looming shadow fell from its hanging place on one of the chains above the steps. A cloaked vampire glided out of its dive and landed before the cat women. As the light of the fighters’ torches shone on the undead troll they got a good look at his appearance. His face was emaciated and deathly pale. The vampire’s ancient eyes bore red irises that dilated to tiny, black dots once exposed to the light.
“I am Claude,” said the vampire. “I thirst.”
The spindly predator lurched for the nearest ranger, a gray-furred archer. Just as he sunk his sharp fangs into her neck Sigrid uttered a ward undead spell.
“Clarex!”
A bright, blue sphere of light appeared between her opened hands. Claude was startled by the mystic light and released his grip on the anthromorph.
“Leave me be,” he cried. “I only seek repayment for my lost kindred.”
“That is not acceptable,” answered the female Sentinel. “We are here on legitimate business. Do not hinder us again or you shall be destroyed.”
“Very well, Sturdy Sorceress,” Claude answered. “There was a time that the vampire clans roamed free throughout Mystic Down and Arkadia. The war with the hordes of goblins and renegade stone trolls reduced our numbers drastically. We were hunted without mercy during the daylight hours. The orcs and their kin sought to claim our castles for their own purposes. I fled from my fortress ages ago, casting aside my family name and possessions. In the night I fed on the occasional Lykanthros and goblin. Ultimately I was intercepted by a spatial portal, as I’m sure you also were.”
“That is the truth, Vampire Liege,” replied Leif. “The haphazard conjurings of Ankharet have proven to be more than a nuisance to the harmony of our Regions. We journey now to convince Guardon to leave our plane.”
“So be it, Ghoul Troll. I wish you luck. Perhaps we will meet again in Gaea once the goblin marauders have been pacified,” said Claude.
The gaunt vampire addressed the gray-furred amazon he’d accosted.
“My apologies, Ranger. I’ve gone without feeding for some time.”
“Be careful, Vampire,” the anthromorph answered. “You never know when you might need the help of the Bengal Clan.”
The cloaked night feeder lifted the edges of his cloak and leapt from the spiral stairway. The warriors heard scratchy laughter that descended into the darkness.
“I’ll wager that won’t be the last we see of that vampire. He certainly has his own agenda for the restructuring of Arkadia and the forest beyond,” Fangoz said. “My renegade cousins came at odds with the Vampire Lords in the past war. Both of our clans have diminished significantly in size since that internecine campaign. Let us continue our quest to the top of this stronghold, My Friends.”
The Gaean fighters joined the immense stone troll in the march up the cylindrical stairway. The warriors of various races traveled for some time. At last they reached the hallway leading to the dissolved door of Guardon’s Throne Room. Jalhi and her amazon relatives were the first to reach the threshold of the steel door that Gilead and Alex melted.
Sigrid gazed at the remnants of the door and the hovering portal within.
“It is clear that our companions have passed this point and returned to the Ghastly Fens,” the female Sentinel observed.
She noticed the jeweled dagger and note attached to the head of Guardon’s dais. The thin ghoul troll stepped onto the proscenium and extricated the message from its post. Sigrid read the memorandum quickly and addressed her friends.
“Our suspicions are correct. Both Lord Taliesin’s and Bjorn Roundtree’s battle parties reached this point ahead of us. The legendary gong seal below us has indeed been breached. Only this temporary, clay plug now bars the portal to the Plane of Chaos. Let us return to the Burial Ruins on the other side of the spatial breach standing before us.”
The warriors followed Sigrid’s advice and strode through the magical gate. They found themselves standing on the mossy earth by the aged stone columns and gravestones of the Ruins at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens. Taliesin, Bjorn and the other Gaeans huddled by smoky campfires nearby.
“Greetings, Friends!” Leif cried. “We are glad to see that all of you emerged from the Gorgon Plane in one piece. As I’m sure you also discovered Guardon and Ankharet were nowhere to be seen. I imagine that the Ephemeral Specters summoned by Themistokles have something to do with this.”
“We must travel to Coermantyr and consult again with Restadicus and the Lore Masters,” said Baroness Sharon. “The events that transpired in Guardon’s Spires require the attention of the adept sorcerers therein. Before we move south let us concert our arcane resources to close this portal opened by the Daemon Lord when he battled his father. It will do no good to leave an additional breach to the Gorgon Plane here.”
“That is wise advice, My Lady,” Gilead responded. “Alex, Reoren, Leif and Sigrid let us focus our energies upon this gateway and close it.”
The Key Mage of Coermantyr incanted a spatial sorcery.
“Seros!”
The other magic users gestured outward with their hands as they assisted Gilead. The portal hovering over the damp soil of the Ghastly Fens wavered for a moment then shrank to a point of white light before disappearing entirely.
The band of Gaeans set forth at a brisk pace to the City of Coermantyr. They hastened through the mist for the rest of the day and set a small camp at nightfall. The mercenaries marched again at first light. By evening they saw the brightly lit pinnacles of the matriarchal stronghold in Sharon’s Region. As they approached the gates to the settlement the farmers and merchants again cheered the passage of their champions. The warriors marched at a steady pace into the castle. Courtesans and pages hurried the fighters inward.
“Make haste, Mercenaries,” a tall concierge said. “Restadicus awaits the latest word.”
The Gaeans entered the spacious Council Chamber of the Lore Masters. The hoary, bearded mage and a number of his subordinate associates sat at the broad, crescent-shaped, oak table with oil lamps burning intensely.
“Well, what news brings you from Siegemunde and the Gorgon Plane beyond?” the aged wizard boomed.
“The gong seal has been breached by Ephemeral Specters summoned by Ankharet’s Vizier from the Plane of Chaos,” Sharon said. “We rescued the halfling, Bjorn Roundtree, as you can see. The Dire Queen was killed. Now the Demigod, Thoth, seeks to assert his influence within the Gorgon Plane and Gaea as well. There is bound to be a conflict, Restadicus.”
“This does not bode well for the delicate balance of the Planar Mandala,” answered the Leader of the Lore Masters.
“I suggest we take some time to review the historic tomes documenting the war that motivated the initial forging of the gong seal,” offered Gilead. “The opposing kharmic forces within the Dharmic Equilibrium were brought to a lasting peace by our ancestors. There must be a way for us to compartmentalize the planes once more.”
“That is wise advice, Key Mage,” answered a flaxen-haired Council Member. “Call me Wotan. Restadicus and I have discussed the ramifications of the Helix of Planes many times. It is possible that if there exist Planes of Elemental, Chaotic Energy, there may also be a Plane of Order, as it were.”
The blond wizard stroked his braided mustache and beard in contemplation.
“All of you look tired. You can use a good night’s sleep and a solid supper,” Restadicus declared. “Your actions and information are invaluable. The Lore Masters shall hold Council tonight while you recuperate from your mission. We will consult the ancient books and meet again tomorrow. By then we should have agreed as to the appropriate course of action.”
The fighters followed the advice of the Leader of the Coermantyr Wizards. They walked down the red-carpeted stairway from the Council Chamber to the dining hall below. The ambience was tangibly different from what it had been the last time the warriors ate there. There was plenty of food at the banquet table, but the minstrels and acrobats were noticeably absent.
“Rumors travel swifter than falcons in this castle,” Sharon whispered to her friends over her plate. “The people here are frequently the best source of the latest news. Eat with gusto, My Companions. We are sure to face more challenging tasks on the morn. Let us conserve our strength and rest while we still can.”
Bors was the only member of the party that seemed to be enjoying his meal. The robust Burgomeister of Wood’s End sat down with relish and dug into his second plate of roast beef, carrots and quiche.
“You have my thanks again for your splendid hospitality, Lady Sharon. I will never cease to savor your delicious board of faire,” the Innkeeper said.
The mercenaries retired to separate lodgings and slept well on the wolf-skin rugs.
The next morning Taliesin and his friends gathered again in the Council Chamber of the Lore Masters.
The entire group of adept mages, numbering over two-dozen, was present. Restadicus addressed the group of warriors.
“We wizards burned the midnight oil, so to speak,” the white-bearded mage said. “The observations of Wotan proved accurate. There are records of a variety of planes, manifesting respective energies in the Latticework of the Planar Helix. Ergo there should be a Plane of Order to balance the Plane of Chaos. The historic tomes speak of Titanic Entities that clashed in the theater of battle that we refer to now as the Burial Ruins of the Ghastly Fens. Just as Thoth once rose to infiltrate the Gorgon Plane and Gaea, so appeared Knights of the Etherium. They emerged through spatial portals of their own to combat the Armies of Chaos. They are dubbed seraphim in the historic texts. Today we will focus our resources upon our scrying glass with the intention of channeling whatever forces or individuals who may linger within the Planar Mandala. Under the threat of invasion by the Legions of Thoth and his Drystyx Monks we cannot be worse off to gain updated knowledge in regard to the Entities that may or may not exist within the kharmic layers of the Dharmic Equilibrium. I’m sorry to disclose that the old books report little more than wave after successive wave of malevolent forces who marauded the Regions of Gaea, oppressing and destroying with rampant abandon.”
“This is profound information,” said Baroness Sharon. “Please proceed with your experiment. At this point any forces that may act in the favor of the native residents of Gaea will be a welcome asset for us in the impending battle.”
The Lore Masters rose from their seats at the crescent table. Restadicus placed his scrying glass on a tall, wooden stand at the center of the room. He stepped back from the crystal sphere and incanted a spell of searching with outstretched hands.
“Bindu!”
Shimmering tendrils of white light reached from the hands of each of the wizards. They met on the surface of the scrying glass. Restadicus gasped with wonder.
“So it is. The Helix of the Planar Mandala is as the ancient tomes suggest. Elemental energies beckon from all around us. I see many things. The Spherical Plane of Gaea is here, and below lies the Gorgon Plane and the Layers of Chaos. There is a gyroscopic network of axes, for outward from us lie other planes. I sense them. There is earth, stone, air, fire, ash, plasma, iron, water, ice, wood, electricity, vacuum, oil and acid. Other planes, similar to Gaea, exist as well. They don’t have names to our knowledge. I suppose that if our situation becomes desperate we may be forced to seek aid from them. These alternate planes remind me of the far kingdoms to the east, south and west. They exude highly charged patterns of magical energy in comparison to Gaea. Perhaps this is why our lands have fallen victim to attacks in the past. I will focus our energies toward the Layers of Order.”
The Leader of the Lore Masters hummed with interest as he scanned the Ordered Plane.
“I perceive strong forces, certainly equal to those of Chaos. Let me focus within that plane and attempt to contact one of the larger Entities hovering there.”
“Hello,” Restadicus said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” a bass voice resonated. “It has been a long time since we had correspondence with anyone from Gaea. My name is Hydro. How are things going?”
“Not too well,” answered the white-haired wizard. “We are about to be attacked by Thoth and his Legions from the Plane of Chaos. Will you delegate some of your seraphim to help us turn them back, and perhaps forge a new seal in the breach that has been reopened of late?”
“Certainly,” Hydro intoned. “I will target the location of your communication module and send four of our best, Smithforge, Heartsing, Listhew and Glasslook. If you find yourself in need of more assistance feel welcome to contact us or any of the Peripheral Planes. There are quite a few of them down there, you know.”
“Thank you, Hydro. Will will see what we can do with the support of your seraphs. I’m sure we’ll speak again.”
Restadicus lowered his hands, as did the other Lore Masters. Their energy ribbons extinguished. As per Hydro’s message, four, big ovals of white light appeared in the council room. Out of these spatial portals stepped a quartet of large trolls dressed in shiny, steel plate and chain mail armor. They carried long, reflective shields at their backs and broadswords sheathed at their waists. Two of the seraph trolls were female and two were male.
A red-haired troll woman bowed and introduced herself.
“I am Listhew, at your service.”
Next a brown-haired seraph addressed Restadicus.
“Call me Glasslook.”
She shook the wizard’s hand in greeting.
“My name is Heartsing,” said a blond troll.
A swarthy, black-haired troll said, “I am Smithforge. We are glad to be here. Hydro informed us that a breach has been reopened in a neighboring plane to the Plane of Chaos. I was present at the fabrication of the original seal that prevented Thoth from invading the Higher Realms. I’m sure that once our resources have been adequately accounted for we will succeed in returning a permanent seal to its rightful location.”
“Very well,” said Restadicus. “It heartens us all to be reassured of the existence of Balancing Entities at opposite ends of the Planar Mandala. We welcome you to join with us in an endeavor to establish a redoubt at the edge of the Plane of Chaos. It will take time to forge a new gong seal even with the fortitude-laden assistance of you seraphs. Join with us as the Lore Masters generate a new portal to the onetime throne room of the Daemon Lord. We will align our wizardries in a tiered line around the temporary plug in order to give Smithforge time to mold a new gong.”
“That is wise advice,” replied Lord Taliesin. “We have long awaited the moment of returned security for our Regions. Generate the breach for us, Mages of Coermantyr, and we will sally forth into the Gorgon Plane.”
The two-dozen troll mages did not hesitate in their planned course of action and combined their caches of arcane energy to open a planar rift.
“Spiros!” they cried collectively.
A crimson gateway appeared in the center of Sharon’s Council Chamber. The steel-gilt seraphim led the charge into the world of the Arachnoids. Lord Taliesin and his mercenaries were quick to follow.
Hydro’s seraphs, hearkening from the Plane of Order, and Lord Taliesin’s acquaintances emerged through the spatial portal into the Throne Room of Guardon’s Spires. Thoth’s winged Hordes of Chaos and his Drystyx Monks had already rallied at the underside of the clay plug where the gong seal had been. The temporary, black barrier shuddered from the booms of the hammering assaults from the legions of gargoyles, firbolgs and Wizards of Chaos.
“Quickly, Gaeans, we must prepare a redoubt to turn these malevolent marauders,” said Listhew.
The red-haired troll Paladin drew her shimmering broadsword and wielded it aloft with her muscular arms.
The battalion of soldiers from the various Regions strode back from the resonating seal, forming a ring on the raised, obsidian proscenium of the Throne Room. The brightly armored seraphim held their ground, close to the edge of the burnished clay. They awaited the invasion of the Drystyx Monks and their Dragon Leader.
“This clay was shoddily hewn at best,” Smithforge observed. “I’m surprised that it resisted the forces of the desperate legions for this long. If we succeed in turning these invaders I will set myself to the task of forging a proper seal in this breach. The observations of Restadicus in Coermantyr Castle were accurate. The neighboring Realms, which occasionally orbit this one, possess resilience against the insertion of alien portals such as that which stands before us today.”
“Alas, tragic this moment is,” moaned The Watcher.
The nervous halfling clutched his face in his white-haired hands.
“The history of Guardon’s spawning and the schemes of his Demigod father long have I studied. Of the ruthlessness of the Drystyx Monks and the legions they command the collected tomes in the library below us tell. The separate energies of the neighboring planes they crave in their endless pursuit of power and influence. To think I falter what tasteless conjuring they conducted over the eons, instilling this insatiable thirst in them.”
An eerie ray of bright, green light pierced the blackened plug, creating a smoldering mark on the ceiling. A final series of blows struck the temporary barrier that Guardon created in the desperate attempt to thwart his father’s intentions. The clay shattered entirely and fell downward into the Plane of Chaos.
Thoth’s red, scaled head screeched upward through the large, disk-shaped opening in the floor of the Throne Room. He placed his massive, clawed arms on the edges of the gate and pulled his entire, sulphuric body inside. The dragon spread his wings, the tips of which reached out the windows of the Throne Room.
“Halt, Thoth,” yelled Heartsing. “You know as well as we that Hydro and the other great Entities of the Plane of Order do not tolerate hostile invasions between the Layers of the Mandala. Turn back now or face the full force of our wrath.”
“I refuse,” bellowed the dragon. “The energies of these Realms are ripe for the taking. It is folly of your leaders that they do no attempt to reap the benefits of their magical resources while they can. Now I claim this plane and those above it for the purposes of my legions. We have need for the power that resides here and will not be turned as before.”
Zolgnath and his fellow Drystyx Monks emerged through the spatial breach along with a number of screeching gargoyles, similar in form to Guardon. They attacked the seraphim immediately with their fangs and claws. The armored Knights of the Plane of Order deflected the assaults with their mirror-like shields and parried with their swords. A handful of the invaders were lanced by the mystic blades and howled from the painful inflictions.
The Drystyx Monks focused their attention on generating a noxious wave of poison gas.
“Smoldent!” they cried.
The black-cloaked sorcerers gestured with their hands as a dark cloud spilled through the air toward the Gaeans.
Gilead, Leif and Alex were prepared for such an attack and uttered a warding spell.
“Aeros!”
A potent gust of wind rushed through Guardon’s tower, dissipating the dangerous-looking cloud. A gathering of red firbolgs responded to the failed attempt of their wizards and rushed across the proscenium. The seraphs flailed at the diabolical creatures with their blades but succeeded in winging only a few of them. The rest of the monsters rushed past the four Paladins and engaged the Gaean mercenaries in hand-to-hand combat.
The Maegar Dwarves were the first to intercept the invaders. Oxholm and Drumtone yelled war cries as they swung their heavy battleaxes. The Weapons Masters deep in the mines of Mount Crow forged their blades. They struck the firbolgs hard with scythe-like motions, maiming a number of their hostile adversaries.
A swarm of bronze and green gargoyles joined the firbolgs in the fray. They met with Gnoll and the wood trolls, along with the Baroness and the Knights of Coermantyr. The daemons attacked the mercenaries with strong blows as Guardon did. Each of the fighters was accustomed to this method of attack and rolled free of the swooping claws. The Knights of Mystic Down,
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 12)
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