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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 13
Posted 06-07-2009 at 11:21 PM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:34 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:34 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
The mercenaries continued their journey upward until they came upon the bridge leading to The Watcher’s library.
“Let us carry on with the path demarcated by The Watcher, My Friends,” said Taliesin. “We must attend to the breach to the Plane of Chaos while the opportunity remains.”
The warriors exited the chamber and followed the light of the aged halfling’s torch through the tunnels beyond.
Lord Taliesin noticed the bas-reliefs and facades carved into the stone and cinderblock walls had changed. They portrayed snorting minotaurs and steaming firbolgs. The renderings also depicted Thoth and his wizards in commanding positions over the Hordes of Chaos.
The fighters reached the topmost hall. A number of firbolgs and minotaurs sprinted from the opposite end. The Lore Masters were prepared and incanted a harnessing spell.
“Chronos!”
A baige cloud captured the hostile humanoids and anthromorphs. The united magic of the adept wizards was resilient. Their adversaries were unable to move despite their fierce intentions to attack the Gaeans.
“You visitors exhibit potent magic,” observed Driptwist. “It may yet occur that a separate peace is returned to our respective Realms.”
The morphozoid eyed the encumbered minotaurs and firbolgs with apprehension.
The fighters and Council of Wizards reached the end of the carpeted hallway leading to Guardon’s escheated Throne Room. The red dragon had returned to his resting place between the broken pillars removed by his hasty exit. Zolgnath and his Drystyx Monks awaited the determined mercenaries with a sizable gathering of the Legions of Chaos regimented beside them.
“Gaeans, the final countdown has begun,” bellowed Thoth.
Noxious, acrid fumes wafted from his reptilian nostrils.
“The bargaining time is past, Thoth,” said Restadicus.
The magenta-cloaked wizard’s bushy eyebrows arched with ire.
“You know the history of the Dharmic Equilibrium as well as any of us. In past ages you and your monstrous kindred resisted the natural quality of the juxtaposition of kharmic energies. The residents of the various Realms and planes united to oppose your intentions then and will do so again. Return to the Plane of Chaos from whence you were spawned or be obliterated by the full force of our wrath!”
“Never, Wizard. Now is the time of our victory for all battles thwarted!”
The red dragon’s ribcage expanded as he inhaled a great breath of air. Thoth opened his sharp-toothed maw and released a bolt of green flame. The Lore Masters were prepared for such a contingency and uttered a spell of shielding.
“Sentiex!” they cried.
A billowing, Ethereal barrier covered the battalion of Gaean warriors. The acrid, green and yellow fire curved around the bubble, searing the obsidian and cinderblock surfaces of Guardon’s Throne Room with sizzling scorch marks. The red dragon howled at the mitigation of his attack. The great lizard’s crimson scales glistened in the light of The Watcher’s torch as he pumped his muscular wings to glide toward the Gaeans. Enraged, Thoth swung at the Paladins of Order with all four limbs as he hovered in the air of the Gorgon Plane.
Glasslook and Heartsing absorbed the brunt of the powerful strikes with their reflective shields. They parried the slashing claws and fangs of the dragon and countered with their broadswords. Simultaneous with the Chaotic Dragon’s assault the firbolgs and minotaurs rushed at the fighters.
Jalhi and the Bengal Clan met the legions with their curved daggers at the ready. The lumbering Denizens of Fire grabbed at the tiger women awkwardly. The feline anthomorphs brought the heavy humanoids down with hooking kicks to their legs. The rangers finished them off with their razor sharp blades.
The minotaurs and Drystyx Monks were not as susceptible to the spry swamp dwellers. They sidestepped the whirling attack pattern of the anthromorph rangers and engaged Reoren, the merchant lich troll, and the Knights of Coermantyr and Mystic Down. The strong bull trolls and women wielded war hammers and axes in circular blows. A number of the troll soldiers were smitten by the swooping barrages of the horn-headed anthromorphs. Their chain and plate mail armor was finely crafted but became dented from the great weapons. A handful of Lord Taliesin’s soldiers and Baroness Sharon’s Knights fell to their knees, gasping for breath.
Reoren parried the flurry of strikes from the minotaurs and counter-attacked with a studded mace, similar to the one Bors used. The cunning ghoul troll used both ends of his mace to jab and bludgeon the taller invaders. He succeeded in vanquishing five of the Warriors of Chaos.
Driptwist employed its amorphous nature to trip several of the scrambling firbolgs with outstretched tentacles extended from its stumpy arms and legs. The merfolk Captains, Anemone and Sponge, skewered a pair of the minotaurs with high velocity bolts fired from their respective crossbows. Sigrid and Leif employed a frost spell of their own device that they directed at Zolgnath and the Drystyx Monks.
“Frigidos!”
Three of the cowled monks were taken off guard and were frozen entirely by the ray of ice unleashed by the adept Sentinels. The halflings were quick to monopolize on the vulnerability of their adversaries and fired a barrage of stones at the crystallized sorcerers, causing them to detonate in a shower of pulpy shards.
Livid from the deaths of their kindred, the Drystyx Monks incanted an arcane sorcery.
“Tauros!”
The minotaurs flared with coverings of green magic. The black-cloaked mages directed the raging anthromorphs toward Gearzon and Bjorn. Listhew and Smithforge stepped in their path and contended with the surging bull trolls with their broadswords. The gnome and halfling flung sharpened stones from their slings at the minotaurs, striking several of them between the eyes. The invaders in question fell to the cobbled floor, unconscious from the impact of the whirling missiles.
Reoren and Bors attempted to intercept the attackers again with their blunt force weapons. The green magic surrounding them rendered the anthromorphs impervious to the attack.
Alex interceded on the behalf of the dejected fighters. He incanted a sorcery of binding.
“Captros!”
An orange cloud emanating from the young wizard’s outstretched hands hindered the charging male and female minotaurs. Their green armor remained and they were unaffected by the blows of the lich merchant and the Innkeeper.
Glasslook and Heartsing turned their attention to the efforts of the fighters at their flank. They utilized their resilient, sharpened swords to breach the arcane shields of the minotaurs. A handful of the firbolgs and Drystyx Monks contended with Starfling and Flamering. The fearless wyverns assailed the Denizens of Chaos with a volley of fireballs.
Despite the adamant intentions of the young dragons the Chaotic Wizards and their cohorts were unaffected. Zolgnath beckoned to the portal in the floor of the Throne Room. The legions of firbolgs and minotaurs levitating below surged upward. Thoth screeched with frustration at the resistance to his comeuppance. The immense, red dragon again released a spray of intense fire upon the Gaean mercenaries.
“Ah! We must harness the demigod while the opportunity remains, My Brethren,” said Restadicus.
The aged, adept wizard addressed the Council of Lore Masters as their shield blocked the acid flame.
“Wotan and the rest of you, help me to contain this demigod. The kharmic balance must be restored to the Dharmic Equilibrium as it is meant to be.”
“I am ready, Restadicus,” answered the subordinate Wizard of Coermantyr.
The entirety of the Gaean magic users, including the Sentinels, supported the supreme effort of their teacher to control the renegade lizard.
“Baniscent!” they incanted.
The protective barrier around the mercenaries expanded outward toward the Legions of Chaos, then contracted upon Thoth and the Drystyx Monks. Claude rushed forward at a blinding pace, draining the life juices of a variety of the invaders before they knew what struck them. Fangoz, Rodnik, Nighthawk and the Maegar Dwarves pummeled the usurpers that broke loose of their arcane snare, rendering them lifeless.
The floor of the Throne Room in Guardon’s Spires was covered with dead and dying firbolgs and minotaurs, strewn among the lingering remains of the earlier waves of gorgons and Lykanthros.
The energy field of the Gaeans thickened and condensed. It folded Thoth’s flexing wings to his glistening torso and rear. Zolgnath and his fellow monks gasped in dismay as the spell binding them became plastic and viscous. They wrestled with it to no avail as the Paladins of Order helped Restadicus to mold the jelly into a rotating funnel. The energy field emitted a golden light as it spiraled downward through the planar breach, taking the demigod and his intrusive legions in a single package.
Smithforge acted quickly to bring his freshly hewn gong from the hall outside. He gestured with his muscular arms to hurl the seal in place. The tall troll’s eyes flared with crimson radiance as he drew a huge coil of solder from his travel pack. With his left hand he tossed the binding metal into the air where it hovered under magical influence. With his right hand he guided steaming beams of red light from his eyes to the locus where his coil unraveled onto the edge of the nickel and steel piece. The Legions of Chaos already pounded on the fresh seal from below. Their efforts to return to the Gorgon Plane were in vain. The firbolgs’ blows only caused a series of reverberating crashes to rise from the gong.
The adept engineer completed his soldering task and addressed his allies who still gasped from the exertion of the battle.
“This seal will hold, My Friends. Always maintain your research of the magical schools for even Hydro and his kin have no idea when renegade Summoners may try again to contact the malevolent entities below.”
“That is wise advice,” said Wotan. “The Watcher has collected a goodly store of information during his emprisonment here. We will spend many months reviewing the histories and techniques he observed from the nooks and crannies of this mountain stronghold.”
Anemone spoke to the group of mercenaries.
“My Friends, I think it wise to revisit the stone giants in the bowels of this stronghold. Now that the spatial breach is reasonably secured it will be just as well to retrieve the Orb of Paryphax from Petra’s Midden. We were all saddened to learn of Skjold’s untimely assassination by Themistokles. The Wood Mage of Arborea corresponded with Umihito in our Ocean Kingdom on many occasions.”
“That is prudent, Dagonite Captain,” Gnoll said. “Let us travel into the lower levels of The Spires while our strength remains.”
The expression of optimism in the faces of the wood trolls revealed their hope for a better future for Arborea and the neighboring Regions.
The Watcher lumbered energetically from the Throne Room and led the sizable battalion of warriors down the central, cylindrical stairway to the network of caverns below. They soon reached the place where the stalagmites and stalactites grew strangely large. Petra and Volcan detected the approach of the various races via the vibrations of their myriad footfalls. The immense stone giants shirked a layer of shale and rubble from their shoulders as they rose from their slumber in the hollowed Midden under the floor of the sparkling cavern. Petra yawned a musical tone that caused pebbles to fall from the ceiling.
“Well, it’s good to see all of you brave fighters together in functioning health. We were concerned for your welfare during the struggle above. Volcan was just commenting that he hadn’t heard such a cacophony shake through the mountain in eons. The activities of the beholders and Lykanthros along with the marauding firbolgs, daemons and gargoyles were silenced in the last hour. The presence of your Paladin acquaintances must have something to do with this, I’m sure.”
Petra and Volcan smiled.
“You speak the truth, Stone Lady,” replied Restadicus. “My fellow wizards and I succeeded in contacting the Plane of Order in our time of need. One of the larger entities therein, answering to the name of Hydro, sent these four, unique troll soldiers to assist us. They proved quite resourceful. We return to you now to ask for the Orb of Paryphax once more. A strengthened gong seal has been placed in the breach opened by the Ephemeral specters, Flotsam and Jetsam. There is time to restore the powerful talisman to the Tower of the Wood Trolls in Arborea. They will employ it to revive and replenish the natural cycles of growth emanating from the deep forest.”
“Very well, White-bearded Mage,” declared Volcan. “Your proposition is reasonable. Take the orb from Petra. Like the rest of you we hope for a return of balance to the flaring Dharmic Equilibrium.”
Petra once again lowered her massive hand to the floor of the spacious cavern. She opened her fist, revealing the glinting orb at the center of her palm. Anemone quickly strode to the stone giant and donned the glass ball and its chain necklace.
“Our work here is done, Restadicus,” stated Glasslook. “We long for the open spaces and collonades of our plane. The Lore Masters have the knowledge to contact us if the need should arise.”
“Very well, Seraphim,” answered the Leader of the Wizards. “May you find good fortune and the peace we all seek.”
The four Knights of Order generated a spatial rift and strode through it. The gateway closed, leaving the Gaeans and their acquaintances in the Gorgon Plane.
“The beholders and wolf beasts are bound to emerge from their hiding places now that the Denizens of Chaos have absconded their holding here,” Driptwist said. “The Principle Amoebids are familiar with the lurking tendencies of the predatorial creatures and will act to keep the lower caverns safe from their hunting patterns.”
“We Terranoids will also remain on the lookout, Shapeshifter,” Petra opined. “Things are bound to get wily for a time as the old balance returns between the residents within and without The Spires.”
“So be it,” said Restadicus. “Wotan, help me to establish a spatial portal to the Crossroads in the Ghastly Fens. From there, each of our brave warriors will be able to return to their families and friends.”
The magenta-cloaked wizard addressed the gathering of mercenaries from throughout the Regions.
“All of you have our thanks. None of the battles won today would have been possible without your intrepid vigilance and cunning. You are welcome in the chambers of Coermantyr Castle anytime.”
The warriors cheered their approval as Wotan and Restadicus opened a portal to the Burial Ruins in the Ghastly Fens. All of them were glad to return to Gaea and marched through the red-limned gate expeditiously.
Chapter Four: Near Horizons
Rauros sat wearily on the dais in the Abyssal Cairn. Word had passed for several days of an eerie serenity in the woods and highlands. Dakros approached the Leader of the Harad Ghul through the torch-lit columns of the spacious castle.
“Rauros, our scouts have reported similar situations all along the picket line with Mystic Down. The guards and patrols have diminished their size and number of reconnaissance missions. There is a greater conflict taking place beyond our plane. If we act now we can solidify our encampments in Mount Crow and take the greater portions of the Ghastly Fens and Mystic Down for the goblins and orcs. Let me lead a garrison of Harad Ghul and Stalactite Orcs into Mystic Down. Rumors tell us that a meager corps of soldiers protects Wood’s End and Lord Taliesin’s Tower. The majority of the troll folk have returned to the forest in search of lumber for building and fertile soil for planting. They will be taken by surprise if we act quickly.”
“Your counsel is sound, Dakros,” Rauros answered.
The sun-creased assassin gazed beyond the lines of torches as he contemplated the impending course of action.
“Let us ask Loki what he thinks about the state of affairs beyond our Region. There is always merit in an additional opinion.”
The dark, green member of the Harad Ghul approached his two companions at the heart of the Abyssal Cairn.
“I have been monitoring Mystic Down, My Friends. The greater mercenaries have departed from the Region for some days. The machinations of the Dire Queen and her daemon companion have demanded the full focus of their attention. Breaches have formed amid the Latticework of the Planes. My bones sense the conflict from the forces outside Gaea. All of us are better off now that Ankharet has been extricated from her reign over the goblin and orc tribes.”
Loki continued to address Rauros and Dakros with a tangible vehemence.
“Only the Innkeeper’s son, Torvald, remains in the tavern in Wood’s End. If the Harad Ghul acts quickly we will succeed in claiming the stronghold in Mystic Down on the behalf of the goblins and Stalactite Orcs. Let us assemble our Guild of Assassins and venture through the woods this night. We can yet seize the fortress of the warriors and employ the resources of their settlement and hunting grounds for our own tribes.”
“Your plan has merit, Loki,” replied Rauros.
The visage of the experienced goblin continued to manifest an expression of contemplation and ambition.
“Let us journey forth this night and put the training and regimentation of our forces to the test. It will do us good to reestablish the goblin power base as a force to be reckoned with among the scurrilous races of this Realm. It has long grieved me that our numbers have not returned to what they were in the age before the war with the stone trolls and Feudal Knights.”
“Very well, Leader,” said Dakros. “I will assemble the greater sum of our armies here tonight. We will disperse the scouts and hunters shortly with the Harad Ghul permeating the woods ahead of them.”
The red-painted elder goblins ran their separate ways through the shadowy collonades of the Abyssal Cairn. The Harad Ghul harnessed what few Lykanthros remained as steeds. They banded with the Stalactite Orcs and enthusiastic goblins of Mount Crow as they infiltrated the woods beyond the looming castle. The invaders would soon reach the picket line bordering their Region with Mystic Down.
***
Torvald awaited the return of his father and the other mercenaries as he turned sides of mutton and beef on a large grill. The townsfolk and visiting farmers chatted cautiously among themselves.
The lithe son of the hearty Burgomeister spoke to his friends in a booming voice.
“The wolf creatures and goblin marauders have fled us now, My Friends. We are fortunate to have such ambitious Lieges here and in Coermantyr, as well. Let us salute the newfound peace here and apply ourselves to a prosperous future!”
The patrons of the tavern cheered their approval and sloshed their mugs as they crashed them together.
A stable hand ran into the warm room. His face was creased with urgency.
“The goblins have returned! Again they ride the Lykanthros like warhorses. They have already mauled a number of gardens and destroyed our vegetables.”
“To arms, My Friends!” cried Torvald.
The swarthy troll drew a rune-etched longsword from under the countertop. The other patrons of Bard’s Inn wielded weapons from their burlap and leather cloaks. They rushed out of the tavern and stood at the ready in the main street of the modest village.
Rauros and his Harad Ghul had surged ahead of their marching kindred and slashed at hedgerows and cabbages with their scimitars. They recognized the silhouettes of the trolls as they stood before the rays of light piercing the fog from the inn.
The fierce assassins did not hesitate and engaged the standing villagers with their burnished blades. The Lykanthros remaining in Gaea were experienced with the dextrous tactics of the villagers. They dodged their weapons while issuing counterattacks with their claws and fangs.
Torvald stepped to the front of the gathering of his battling companions and lunged forward, bringing down one of the Lykanthros and its rider. Two more of the Harad Ghul were tripped by the rolling creature and also lost their feral mounts as they stumbled. They rose holding their scimitars aloft and engaged the inexperienced trolls in hand-to-hand combat. A few of them were defeated before Torvald pulled his longsword free and compromised the position of the goblins and Stalactite Orcs.
Blueblood rode into the scene and was about to render a serious infliction to Torvald’s flank when he parried the attack just in time.
The Stalactite Orc agent of the Harad Ghul was a fierce soldier and grappled with Torvald in a forceful grip. The two warriors spun over the street of Wood’s End, toppling a bound stick fence. They parted again and their swords clashed, emitting a shower of sparks. The other residents and visitors to the chief settlement of Mystic Down came to the aid of the Burgomeister’s son. The Harad Ghul and trolls entered a serious battle.
Torvald was cut a shallow wound on his left forearm. He addressed the large orc assassin assailing him.
“Turn from this Region, Red Assassin. The troll folk seek a peaceful existence with the tribes of the Arkadian mountains. Do not sacrifice all forwards won on this venture.”
“That is not possible,” answered Blueblood. “Our numbers have grown since the past war. We need the fertile soil here for our people. Refrain from resisting us.”
“Liege Lord Taliesin would not consent. You have a feud on your hands, Orc Leader. En guarde!”
Torvald swung a series of blows with his longsword, compromising Blueblood’s defenses. The member of the Harad Ghul was gashed on the thigh. The Lykanthros and villagers continued to fight. The red-painted orc stumbled away from the Innkeeper’s son, clutching his leg.
“Arrgh!” he yelled. “This is foolishness, My Kindred. Let us return with the echelons of goblins. The trolls here are a greater hindrance to our agenda than we predicted.”
The swarthy orc grabbed the reins of a riderless Lykanthros and pulled himself into the saddle. The horde of goblins and orcs fled from the streets of Wood’s End, leaving the trolls with their weapons drawn. They cheered their victory.
“We must prepare, My Friends,” Torvald said. “The goblins are sure to return, and in greater numbers.”
***
At last I am free, Claude thought.
The ancient vampire ran through the moonlit oaks and pines of the Arkadian forest. He sensed the beating hearts and warm blood of a variety of creatures throughout the wilderness. Some slept while others prowled the brambles in search of prey. The dethroned Lord moved through the windswept trees with an uncanny silence. Raccoons and badgers dozed under bushes at his feet as his toes grazed the surface of the earth.
I long for the sanctuary of my castle, Stammberg. The goblins assuredly lurk therein, Claude contemplated.
The experienced night feeder was careful to avoid random encampments of goblin and orc soldiers. Since the return of the Gaean mercenaries to their Home Regions the Arkadian forces dispersed into the deep woods.
Ah, the remains of my ancestors beckon. Ages have passed since I strode the halls of my domain free of harassment from the goblins and their cousins. The other vampires fled under the duress of the invading hordes and destructive stone trolls. I wonder if any of them yet remain, thought Claude.
The returning Lord’s eyes reflected the bright, silver light of the twin moons. His visual faculties, which were keen in near total darkness, perceived the smallest details of the swaying boughs and scurrying rodents. Owls and lynxes cried from the reaches of the spruce and elm groves.
The vampire ran to a clearing at the base of the Arkadian mountain range. He had traveled dozens of miles since emerging from the portal generated by Restadicus at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens. A tall fortress protruded from the slanting mountain, whose foot met the hilled prairie where Claude stood. A scattering of lights shone from windows in the high towers. Trails and extinguished campfires pockmarked the bending grass around the banished Lord.
Claude ascended the foothills of the Arkadian mountains. The eerily lit towers of Castle Stammberg grew tall as the vampire lurched through the reeds and oaks. His keen hearing detected the movements of goblin patrols. The aged Lord was experienced with evasion tactics and did well in avoiding the attention of the aggressive humanoids. Their snarls and grumbles caused the troll’s ears to tingle.
These fellows aren’t nearly as bad as the gorgons and Lykanthros, he thought. They don’t hunt on scent and kharmic energy like the others did.
Claude observed sporadic encampments of goblins that muttered around cook-fires and drank fermented grog. They were unaware of the presence of the elusive night feeder as they tore at rancid meat with their jagged fangs.
I long to again sit on the throne of my tribe, the undead troll considered. Much has gone awry in this Region since the clans of vampires were expunged by the brutal stone trolls and orcs. The time has come to return this area to the Denizens of the Night, its rightful custodians.
The once banished Lord reached the portcullis of the aged castle. The systems of cranks and levers that lifted the gate were in an advanced state of disrepair. The marauders that drove Claude’s kindred away had either abandoned the structure or relied on an alternate entrance. The powerful Leader of the Vampires grasped the base of the interlocking grid of rusted, iron strips. He ascended the fallen gate, exercising his preternatural strength, and continued up the brick wall of the southernmost tower. His ragged cloak
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 14)
“Let us carry on with the path demarcated by The Watcher, My Friends,” said Taliesin. “We must attend to the breach to the Plane of Chaos while the opportunity remains.”
The warriors exited the chamber and followed the light of the aged halfling’s torch through the tunnels beyond.
Lord Taliesin noticed the bas-reliefs and facades carved into the stone and cinderblock walls had changed. They portrayed snorting minotaurs and steaming firbolgs. The renderings also depicted Thoth and his wizards in commanding positions over the Hordes of Chaos.
The fighters reached the topmost hall. A number of firbolgs and minotaurs sprinted from the opposite end. The Lore Masters were prepared and incanted a harnessing spell.
“Chronos!”
A baige cloud captured the hostile humanoids and anthromorphs. The united magic of the adept wizards was resilient. Their adversaries were unable to move despite their fierce intentions to attack the Gaeans.
“You visitors exhibit potent magic,” observed Driptwist. “It may yet occur that a separate peace is returned to our respective Realms.”
The morphozoid eyed the encumbered minotaurs and firbolgs with apprehension.
The fighters and Council of Wizards reached the end of the carpeted hallway leading to Guardon’s escheated Throne Room. The red dragon had returned to his resting place between the broken pillars removed by his hasty exit. Zolgnath and his Drystyx Monks awaited the determined mercenaries with a sizable gathering of the Legions of Chaos regimented beside them.
“Gaeans, the final countdown has begun,” bellowed Thoth.
Noxious, acrid fumes wafted from his reptilian nostrils.
“The bargaining time is past, Thoth,” said Restadicus.
The magenta-cloaked wizard’s bushy eyebrows arched with ire.
“You know the history of the Dharmic Equilibrium as well as any of us. In past ages you and your monstrous kindred resisted the natural quality of the juxtaposition of kharmic energies. The residents of the various Realms and planes united to oppose your intentions then and will do so again. Return to the Plane of Chaos from whence you were spawned or be obliterated by the full force of our wrath!”
“Never, Wizard. Now is the time of our victory for all battles thwarted!”
The red dragon’s ribcage expanded as he inhaled a great breath of air. Thoth opened his sharp-toothed maw and released a bolt of green flame. The Lore Masters were prepared for such a contingency and uttered a spell of shielding.
“Sentiex!” they cried.
A billowing, Ethereal barrier covered the battalion of Gaean warriors. The acrid, green and yellow fire curved around the bubble, searing the obsidian and cinderblock surfaces of Guardon’s Throne Room with sizzling scorch marks. The red dragon howled at the mitigation of his attack. The great lizard’s crimson scales glistened in the light of The Watcher’s torch as he pumped his muscular wings to glide toward the Gaeans. Enraged, Thoth swung at the Paladins of Order with all four limbs as he hovered in the air of the Gorgon Plane.
Glasslook and Heartsing absorbed the brunt of the powerful strikes with their reflective shields. They parried the slashing claws and fangs of the dragon and countered with their broadswords. Simultaneous with the Chaotic Dragon’s assault the firbolgs and minotaurs rushed at the fighters.
Jalhi and the Bengal Clan met the legions with their curved daggers at the ready. The lumbering Denizens of Fire grabbed at the tiger women awkwardly. The feline anthomorphs brought the heavy humanoids down with hooking kicks to their legs. The rangers finished them off with their razor sharp blades.
The minotaurs and Drystyx Monks were not as susceptible to the spry swamp dwellers. They sidestepped the whirling attack pattern of the anthromorph rangers and engaged Reoren, the merchant lich troll, and the Knights of Coermantyr and Mystic Down. The strong bull trolls and women wielded war hammers and axes in circular blows. A number of the troll soldiers were smitten by the swooping barrages of the horn-headed anthromorphs. Their chain and plate mail armor was finely crafted but became dented from the great weapons. A handful of Lord Taliesin’s soldiers and Baroness Sharon’s Knights fell to their knees, gasping for breath.
Reoren parried the flurry of strikes from the minotaurs and counter-attacked with a studded mace, similar to the one Bors used. The cunning ghoul troll used both ends of his mace to jab and bludgeon the taller invaders. He succeeded in vanquishing five of the Warriors of Chaos.
Driptwist employed its amorphous nature to trip several of the scrambling firbolgs with outstretched tentacles extended from its stumpy arms and legs. The merfolk Captains, Anemone and Sponge, skewered a pair of the minotaurs with high velocity bolts fired from their respective crossbows. Sigrid and Leif employed a frost spell of their own device that they directed at Zolgnath and the Drystyx Monks.
“Frigidos!”
Three of the cowled monks were taken off guard and were frozen entirely by the ray of ice unleashed by the adept Sentinels. The halflings were quick to monopolize on the vulnerability of their adversaries and fired a barrage of stones at the crystallized sorcerers, causing them to detonate in a shower of pulpy shards.
Livid from the deaths of their kindred, the Drystyx Monks incanted an arcane sorcery.
“Tauros!”
The minotaurs flared with coverings of green magic. The black-cloaked mages directed the raging anthromorphs toward Gearzon and Bjorn. Listhew and Smithforge stepped in their path and contended with the surging bull trolls with their broadswords. The gnome and halfling flung sharpened stones from their slings at the minotaurs, striking several of them between the eyes. The invaders in question fell to the cobbled floor, unconscious from the impact of the whirling missiles.
Reoren and Bors attempted to intercept the attackers again with their blunt force weapons. The green magic surrounding them rendered the anthromorphs impervious to the attack.
Alex interceded on the behalf of the dejected fighters. He incanted a sorcery of binding.
“Captros!”
An orange cloud emanating from the young wizard’s outstretched hands hindered the charging male and female minotaurs. Their green armor remained and they were unaffected by the blows of the lich merchant and the Innkeeper.
Glasslook and Heartsing turned their attention to the efforts of the fighters at their flank. They utilized their resilient, sharpened swords to breach the arcane shields of the minotaurs. A handful of the firbolgs and Drystyx Monks contended with Starfling and Flamering. The fearless wyverns assailed the Denizens of Chaos with a volley of fireballs.
Despite the adamant intentions of the young dragons the Chaotic Wizards and their cohorts were unaffected. Zolgnath beckoned to the portal in the floor of the Throne Room. The legions of firbolgs and minotaurs levitating below surged upward. Thoth screeched with frustration at the resistance to his comeuppance. The immense, red dragon again released a spray of intense fire upon the Gaean mercenaries.
“Ah! We must harness the demigod while the opportunity remains, My Brethren,” said Restadicus.
The aged, adept wizard addressed the Council of Lore Masters as their shield blocked the acid flame.
“Wotan and the rest of you, help me to contain this demigod. The kharmic balance must be restored to the Dharmic Equilibrium as it is meant to be.”
“I am ready, Restadicus,” answered the subordinate Wizard of Coermantyr.
The entirety of the Gaean magic users, including the Sentinels, supported the supreme effort of their teacher to control the renegade lizard.
“Baniscent!” they incanted.
The protective barrier around the mercenaries expanded outward toward the Legions of Chaos, then contracted upon Thoth and the Drystyx Monks. Claude rushed forward at a blinding pace, draining the life juices of a variety of the invaders before they knew what struck them. Fangoz, Rodnik, Nighthawk and the Maegar Dwarves pummeled the usurpers that broke loose of their arcane snare, rendering them lifeless.
The floor of the Throne Room in Guardon’s Spires was covered with dead and dying firbolgs and minotaurs, strewn among the lingering remains of the earlier waves of gorgons and Lykanthros.
The energy field of the Gaeans thickened and condensed. It folded Thoth’s flexing wings to his glistening torso and rear. Zolgnath and his fellow monks gasped in dismay as the spell binding them became plastic and viscous. They wrestled with it to no avail as the Paladins of Order helped Restadicus to mold the jelly into a rotating funnel. The energy field emitted a golden light as it spiraled downward through the planar breach, taking the demigod and his intrusive legions in a single package.
Smithforge acted quickly to bring his freshly hewn gong from the hall outside. He gestured with his muscular arms to hurl the seal in place. The tall troll’s eyes flared with crimson radiance as he drew a huge coil of solder from his travel pack. With his left hand he tossed the binding metal into the air where it hovered under magical influence. With his right hand he guided steaming beams of red light from his eyes to the locus where his coil unraveled onto the edge of the nickel and steel piece. The Legions of Chaos already pounded on the fresh seal from below. Their efforts to return to the Gorgon Plane were in vain. The firbolgs’ blows only caused a series of reverberating crashes to rise from the gong.
The adept engineer completed his soldering task and addressed his allies who still gasped from the exertion of the battle.
“This seal will hold, My Friends. Always maintain your research of the magical schools for even Hydro and his kin have no idea when renegade Summoners may try again to contact the malevolent entities below.”
“That is wise advice,” said Wotan. “The Watcher has collected a goodly store of information during his emprisonment here. We will spend many months reviewing the histories and techniques he observed from the nooks and crannies of this mountain stronghold.”
Anemone spoke to the group of mercenaries.
“My Friends, I think it wise to revisit the stone giants in the bowels of this stronghold. Now that the spatial breach is reasonably secured it will be just as well to retrieve the Orb of Paryphax from Petra’s Midden. We were all saddened to learn of Skjold’s untimely assassination by Themistokles. The Wood Mage of Arborea corresponded with Umihito in our Ocean Kingdom on many occasions.”
“That is prudent, Dagonite Captain,” Gnoll said. “Let us travel into the lower levels of The Spires while our strength remains.”
The expression of optimism in the faces of the wood trolls revealed their hope for a better future for Arborea and the neighboring Regions.
The Watcher lumbered energetically from the Throne Room and led the sizable battalion of warriors down the central, cylindrical stairway to the network of caverns below. They soon reached the place where the stalagmites and stalactites grew strangely large. Petra and Volcan detected the approach of the various races via the vibrations of their myriad footfalls. The immense stone giants shirked a layer of shale and rubble from their shoulders as they rose from their slumber in the hollowed Midden under the floor of the sparkling cavern. Petra yawned a musical tone that caused pebbles to fall from the ceiling.
“Well, it’s good to see all of you brave fighters together in functioning health. We were concerned for your welfare during the struggle above. Volcan was just commenting that he hadn’t heard such a cacophony shake through the mountain in eons. The activities of the beholders and Lykanthros along with the marauding firbolgs, daemons and gargoyles were silenced in the last hour. The presence of your Paladin acquaintances must have something to do with this, I’m sure.”
Petra and Volcan smiled.
“You speak the truth, Stone Lady,” replied Restadicus. “My fellow wizards and I succeeded in contacting the Plane of Order in our time of need. One of the larger entities therein, answering to the name of Hydro, sent these four, unique troll soldiers to assist us. They proved quite resourceful. We return to you now to ask for the Orb of Paryphax once more. A strengthened gong seal has been placed in the breach opened by the Ephemeral specters, Flotsam and Jetsam. There is time to restore the powerful talisman to the Tower of the Wood Trolls in Arborea. They will employ it to revive and replenish the natural cycles of growth emanating from the deep forest.”
“Very well, White-bearded Mage,” declared Volcan. “Your proposition is reasonable. Take the orb from Petra. Like the rest of you we hope for a return of balance to the flaring Dharmic Equilibrium.”
Petra once again lowered her massive hand to the floor of the spacious cavern. She opened her fist, revealing the glinting orb at the center of her palm. Anemone quickly strode to the stone giant and donned the glass ball and its chain necklace.
“Our work here is done, Restadicus,” stated Glasslook. “We long for the open spaces and collonades of our plane. The Lore Masters have the knowledge to contact us if the need should arise.”
“Very well, Seraphim,” answered the Leader of the Wizards. “May you find good fortune and the peace we all seek.”
The four Knights of Order generated a spatial rift and strode through it. The gateway closed, leaving the Gaeans and their acquaintances in the Gorgon Plane.
“The beholders and wolf beasts are bound to emerge from their hiding places now that the Denizens of Chaos have absconded their holding here,” Driptwist said. “The Principle Amoebids are familiar with the lurking tendencies of the predatorial creatures and will act to keep the lower caverns safe from their hunting patterns.”
“We Terranoids will also remain on the lookout, Shapeshifter,” Petra opined. “Things are bound to get wily for a time as the old balance returns between the residents within and without The Spires.”
“So be it,” said Restadicus. “Wotan, help me to establish a spatial portal to the Crossroads in the Ghastly Fens. From there, each of our brave warriors will be able to return to their families and friends.”
The magenta-cloaked wizard addressed the gathering of mercenaries from throughout the Regions.
“All of you have our thanks. None of the battles won today would have been possible without your intrepid vigilance and cunning. You are welcome in the chambers of Coermantyr Castle anytime.”
The warriors cheered their approval as Wotan and Restadicus opened a portal to the Burial Ruins in the Ghastly Fens. All of them were glad to return to Gaea and marched through the red-limned gate expeditiously.
Chapter Four: Near Horizons
Rauros sat wearily on the dais in the Abyssal Cairn. Word had passed for several days of an eerie serenity in the woods and highlands. Dakros approached the Leader of the Harad Ghul through the torch-lit columns of the spacious castle.
“Rauros, our scouts have reported similar situations all along the picket line with Mystic Down. The guards and patrols have diminished their size and number of reconnaissance missions. There is a greater conflict taking place beyond our plane. If we act now we can solidify our encampments in Mount Crow and take the greater portions of the Ghastly Fens and Mystic Down for the goblins and orcs. Let me lead a garrison of Harad Ghul and Stalactite Orcs into Mystic Down. Rumors tell us that a meager corps of soldiers protects Wood’s End and Lord Taliesin’s Tower. The majority of the troll folk have returned to the forest in search of lumber for building and fertile soil for planting. They will be taken by surprise if we act quickly.”
“Your counsel is sound, Dakros,” Rauros answered.
The sun-creased assassin gazed beyond the lines of torches as he contemplated the impending course of action.
“Let us ask Loki what he thinks about the state of affairs beyond our Region. There is always merit in an additional opinion.”
The dark, green member of the Harad Ghul approached his two companions at the heart of the Abyssal Cairn.
“I have been monitoring Mystic Down, My Friends. The greater mercenaries have departed from the Region for some days. The machinations of the Dire Queen and her daemon companion have demanded the full focus of their attention. Breaches have formed amid the Latticework of the Planes. My bones sense the conflict from the forces outside Gaea. All of us are better off now that Ankharet has been extricated from her reign over the goblin and orc tribes.”
Loki continued to address Rauros and Dakros with a tangible vehemence.
“Only the Innkeeper’s son, Torvald, remains in the tavern in Wood’s End. If the Harad Ghul acts quickly we will succeed in claiming the stronghold in Mystic Down on the behalf of the goblins and Stalactite Orcs. Let us assemble our Guild of Assassins and venture through the woods this night. We can yet seize the fortress of the warriors and employ the resources of their settlement and hunting grounds for our own tribes.”
“Your plan has merit, Loki,” replied Rauros.
The visage of the experienced goblin continued to manifest an expression of contemplation and ambition.
“Let us journey forth this night and put the training and regimentation of our forces to the test. It will do us good to reestablish the goblin power base as a force to be reckoned with among the scurrilous races of this Realm. It has long grieved me that our numbers have not returned to what they were in the age before the war with the stone trolls and Feudal Knights.”
“Very well, Leader,” said Dakros. “I will assemble the greater sum of our armies here tonight. We will disperse the scouts and hunters shortly with the Harad Ghul permeating the woods ahead of them.”
The red-painted elder goblins ran their separate ways through the shadowy collonades of the Abyssal Cairn. The Harad Ghul harnessed what few Lykanthros remained as steeds. They banded with the Stalactite Orcs and enthusiastic goblins of Mount Crow as they infiltrated the woods beyond the looming castle. The invaders would soon reach the picket line bordering their Region with Mystic Down.
***
Torvald awaited the return of his father and the other mercenaries as he turned sides of mutton and beef on a large grill. The townsfolk and visiting farmers chatted cautiously among themselves.
The lithe son of the hearty Burgomeister spoke to his friends in a booming voice.
“The wolf creatures and goblin marauders have fled us now, My Friends. We are fortunate to have such ambitious Lieges here and in Coermantyr, as well. Let us salute the newfound peace here and apply ourselves to a prosperous future!”
The patrons of the tavern cheered their approval and sloshed their mugs as they crashed them together.
A stable hand ran into the warm room. His face was creased with urgency.
“The goblins have returned! Again they ride the Lykanthros like warhorses. They have already mauled a number of gardens and destroyed our vegetables.”
“To arms, My Friends!” cried Torvald.
The swarthy troll drew a rune-etched longsword from under the countertop. The other patrons of Bard’s Inn wielded weapons from their burlap and leather cloaks. They rushed out of the tavern and stood at the ready in the main street of the modest village.
Rauros and his Harad Ghul had surged ahead of their marching kindred and slashed at hedgerows and cabbages with their scimitars. They recognized the silhouettes of the trolls as they stood before the rays of light piercing the fog from the inn.
The fierce assassins did not hesitate and engaged the standing villagers with their burnished blades. The Lykanthros remaining in Gaea were experienced with the dextrous tactics of the villagers. They dodged their weapons while issuing counterattacks with their claws and fangs.
Torvald stepped to the front of the gathering of his battling companions and lunged forward, bringing down one of the Lykanthros and its rider. Two more of the Harad Ghul were tripped by the rolling creature and also lost their feral mounts as they stumbled. They rose holding their scimitars aloft and engaged the inexperienced trolls in hand-to-hand combat. A few of them were defeated before Torvald pulled his longsword free and compromised the position of the goblins and Stalactite Orcs.
Blueblood rode into the scene and was about to render a serious infliction to Torvald’s flank when he parried the attack just in time.
The Stalactite Orc agent of the Harad Ghul was a fierce soldier and grappled with Torvald in a forceful grip. The two warriors spun over the street of Wood’s End, toppling a bound stick fence. They parted again and their swords clashed, emitting a shower of sparks. The other residents and visitors to the chief settlement of Mystic Down came to the aid of the Burgomeister’s son. The Harad Ghul and trolls entered a serious battle.
Torvald was cut a shallow wound on his left forearm. He addressed the large orc assassin assailing him.
“Turn from this Region, Red Assassin. The troll folk seek a peaceful existence with the tribes of the Arkadian mountains. Do not sacrifice all forwards won on this venture.”
“That is not possible,” answered Blueblood. “Our numbers have grown since the past war. We need the fertile soil here for our people. Refrain from resisting us.”
“Liege Lord Taliesin would not consent. You have a feud on your hands, Orc Leader. En guarde!”
Torvald swung a series of blows with his longsword, compromising Blueblood’s defenses. The member of the Harad Ghul was gashed on the thigh. The Lykanthros and villagers continued to fight. The red-painted orc stumbled away from the Innkeeper’s son, clutching his leg.
“Arrgh!” he yelled. “This is foolishness, My Kindred. Let us return with the echelons of goblins. The trolls here are a greater hindrance to our agenda than we predicted.”
The swarthy orc grabbed the reins of a riderless Lykanthros and pulled himself into the saddle. The horde of goblins and orcs fled from the streets of Wood’s End, leaving the trolls with their weapons drawn. They cheered their victory.
“We must prepare, My Friends,” Torvald said. “The goblins are sure to return, and in greater numbers.”
***
At last I am free, Claude thought.
The ancient vampire ran through the moonlit oaks and pines of the Arkadian forest. He sensed the beating hearts and warm blood of a variety of creatures throughout the wilderness. Some slept while others prowled the brambles in search of prey. The dethroned Lord moved through the windswept trees with an uncanny silence. Raccoons and badgers dozed under bushes at his feet as his toes grazed the surface of the earth.
I long for the sanctuary of my castle, Stammberg. The goblins assuredly lurk therein, Claude contemplated.
The experienced night feeder was careful to avoid random encampments of goblin and orc soldiers. Since the return of the Gaean mercenaries to their Home Regions the Arkadian forces dispersed into the deep woods.
Ah, the remains of my ancestors beckon. Ages have passed since I strode the halls of my domain free of harassment from the goblins and their cousins. The other vampires fled under the duress of the invading hordes and destructive stone trolls. I wonder if any of them yet remain, thought Claude.
The returning Lord’s eyes reflected the bright, silver light of the twin moons. His visual faculties, which were keen in near total darkness, perceived the smallest details of the swaying boughs and scurrying rodents. Owls and lynxes cried from the reaches of the spruce and elm groves.
The vampire ran to a clearing at the base of the Arkadian mountain range. He had traveled dozens of miles since emerging from the portal generated by Restadicus at the Crossroads of the Ghastly Fens. A tall fortress protruded from the slanting mountain, whose foot met the hilled prairie where Claude stood. A scattering of lights shone from windows in the high towers. Trails and extinguished campfires pockmarked the bending grass around the banished Lord.
Claude ascended the foothills of the Arkadian mountains. The eerily lit towers of Castle Stammberg grew tall as the vampire lurched through the reeds and oaks. His keen hearing detected the movements of goblin patrols. The aged Lord was experienced with evasion tactics and did well in avoiding the attention of the aggressive humanoids. Their snarls and grumbles caused the troll’s ears to tingle.
These fellows aren’t nearly as bad as the gorgons and Lykanthros, he thought. They don’t hunt on scent and kharmic energy like the others did.
Claude observed sporadic encampments of goblins that muttered around cook-fires and drank fermented grog. They were unaware of the presence of the elusive night feeder as they tore at rancid meat with their jagged fangs.
I long to again sit on the throne of my tribe, the undead troll considered. Much has gone awry in this Region since the clans of vampires were expunged by the brutal stone trolls and orcs. The time has come to return this area to the Denizens of the Night, its rightful custodians.
The once banished Lord reached the portcullis of the aged castle. The systems of cranks and levers that lifted the gate were in an advanced state of disrepair. The marauders that drove Claude’s kindred away had either abandoned the structure or relied on an alternate entrance. The powerful Leader of the Vampires grasped the base of the interlocking grid of rusted, iron strips. He ascended the fallen gate, exercising his preternatural strength, and continued up the brick wall of the southernmost tower. His ragged cloak
(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 14)
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