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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 8
Posted 06-08-2009 at 01:07 AM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:21 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:21 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)
The Baroness of Coermantyr beckoned to the Burgomeister of Bard’s Inn.
“Bors, come here. Open our travel pack and deliver Ankharet’s shard to Siegemunde.”
“As you wish, My Lady,” the innkeeper said.
He lifted the cumbersome, leather pack from his shoulder and opened it. The burly troll placed the glinting shard on a wooden stand which Siegemunde had ready. The Director of the Martial Academy adorned a pair of wire-framed spectacles. He laid his fingers over the jagged glass and hummed with interest.
“This glass has indeed been used for more than simple communication with distant Regions of Gaea. It vibrates still with the echoes of dangerous and alien magic. I fear that Ankharet herself does not understand the risk in opening rifts to other planes. Her folly is that she can maintain control over magic of this nature. I will create a rift with this device but must destroy it upon your return. There are daemons and beings far more powerful that have been awakened by the erratic energies harnessed by this glass. Prepare yourselves, My Friends, for once you are placed in close proximity to the Summoners you will certainly be confronted by diabolical and malevolent entities in their own element. They will have no restraint upon their base energies.”
“We are ready, Siegemunde,” said Lord Taliesin. “This battle has been long in the making and must be brought to an end for the good of all our lands.”
The husky troll drew his broadsword and held it at the ready. The other mercenaries and anthromorphs wielded their weapons in turn.
The Director uttered a harnessing incantation.
“Spiros!”
The scrying glass shook visibly as it ignited with red light. The arcane rays passed through Siegemunde’s outstretched fingers, forming eerie beams in the smoky air.
“Curses, it burns,” the wizard cried.
His hairless head became dotted with perspiration from the degree of his concentration.
The crimson energy intensified and focused on a point in front of the troll’s desk.
“I will hold for you, My Friends. The breach is forming. Deal with the Summoners as you must. My students will assist me in keeping the gateway open until you return.”
The magic of the scrying glass condensed into a bright sphere. This focal point expanded, forming a doorway. It looked upon the valley of Guardon’s Spires. A gathering of Arachnoids waited patiently outside its walls. The mercenaries did not hesitate and marched in single file through the portal.
“Farewell, Troll Wizard,” said Fangoz.
He was the last to enter the rift. The lumbering stone troll stooped to fit, dragging his metallic club behind him.
“May The Fates be with us,” Siegemunde murmured.
“My Students, hasten to the Council Chambers. I have need of your assistance!”
The Director of the Martial Academy yelled up the stairs with a voice that boomed over the Fens.
***
Flotsam and Jetsam hovered behind a cluster of bushes. They watched the gathering of farmers and merchants crowd into Bard’s Inn, the unofficial community center of Wood’s End. The glowing specters dimmed their luminosity, making their appearance as shadow-like as possible. As they passed the hitching post the tethered horses remained docile. A pair of the steeds shook their manes as a chilling breeze wafted across their backs.
Jetsam whispered to his companion as they crouched below an iron-framed window.
“Let’s watch and wait. Now that Themistokles is gone we are free to bring others into this plane. The Gorgon King is but a pawn of the Dire Queen. If we succeed we shall gain control of his plane and ours. The Drystyx Monks serve only Thoth. With the Orb of Paryphax we can break the Gong Seal at the heart of Guardon’s Spires. The Monks of Chaos will once again be free to move through the Gorgon Plane and eventually take hold of Gaea itself.
Torvald had taken over his father’s capacity as Innkeeper. He made sure that the ale kegs were fresh and the patrons served hearty platters of mutton and roasted potatoes. The swarthy, bearded troll addressed the diners, unaware of the listening specters outside.
“The Lykanthros have been banished, My Friends. Our Lieges travel now to the Ghastly Fens to open a breach to the Gorgon Plane. The halfling, Bjorn Roundtree, will soon be rescued and the Summoners eliminated permanently. An era of peace is dawning. Let’s toast our victory!”
The trolls and troll women cheered and quaffed draughts of brew from their steins.
“The orb has been moved,” said Jetsam.
The taller of the two specters gazed into the dark woods of Mystic Down as he contemplated the course of events. The dimly lit, azure specter turned to his brother.
“Let’s return to the Abyssal Cairn. Rauros and the Harad Ghul have completed their reconnaissance of Coermantyr and await us there. He is in the process of reuniting the goblin forces. Now that we are free of Themistokles’ bonds we can visit the Gorgon Plane as we wish. I suspect the Orb of Paryphax has found its way there. Perhaps we shall lead our own garrison of goblins to conquer The Spires in the volcanic plane on the behalf of the specters and the Drystyx Monks. Thoth is sure to be pleased.”
The Ephemeral Beings chuckled as they sped off into the thick forest outside of Wood’s End.
***
Rauros sat on the obsidian throne at the heart of the Abyssal Cairn in Arkadia. A massive army of goblins and orcs gathered in the spacious audience chamber.
The wrinkled Goblin Master addressed his two assistants who stood at his side.
“Loki and Dakros, you have done well to rouse our cousins and relatives from their subterranean lairs. Ankharet had no comprehension of our numbers residing deep in the Under Earth. The hidden lakes and secret goatherds have brought prosperity to our Kingdom. Arkadia belongs to the goblins and their kin once again!”
The army of goblins and orcs cheered a bellowing roar that reverberated up to the vaulted ceiling. The torches that limned the collonades flickered with renewed reservoirs of orcish oil.
“Dakros, select a trio of goblins. Loki, choose two. We will return the octet of the Harad Ghul to its original size,” Rauros ordered.
“We have made our selections,” answered Dakros.
A group of five, hulking goblins stepped forward. They hearkened from the Stalactite Tribe. Their pale skin was a distinguishing characteristic of their population. Most Stalactite Goblins and Orcs lived out their lives in clandestine cities built miles within the interconnected caves of the Under Earth. The branching tunnels formed a labyrinthine network of caverns whose full reaches were memorized by only the eldest of pale, goblin navigators.
“Rauros,” Loki asked, “We request that the Harad Ghul be strengthened from its original eight to a group of twelve. We have selected four of our orc cousins to assist us. Their tribes have remained hidden since the bloodshed of the war with the trolls. These assassins hail from the orc lairs in the Arkadian Mountain Range. They have long rejected their troll heritage and wish to be welcomed into the fold of the goblin army.”
The orc soldiers were taller than their goblin kindred. They were muscular and carried jagged broadswords and longbows.
“My name is Blueblood. We offer our allegiance to the Harad Ghul. Each of us is a Captain of the orc tribes in Crow Mountain. We have succeeded in rebuilding our cities since the campaign against the stone trolls and troll folk. Our echelon is prepared to demonstrate the strength of Arkadia to the other Regions of Gaea.”
“Very well, Blueblood. I welcome you and your soldiers into our army.”
Rauros rose and embraced each of the four, orc assassins in acceptance. He beckoned for the ceremonial, red paint that he donned on his new recruits.
The pair of specters, Flotsam and Jetsam, glided above the waiting army to face Rauros. Flotsam addressed the Leader of the Harad Ghul.
“Goblin Master, the signature of the Orb of Paryphax, left by Themistokles, has vanished from this plane. We searched far into Mystic Down and flew past Coermantyr as well. It has been taken to the Gorgon Plane. We offer our assistance to open a breach to Guardon’s Spires. This newly formed goblin and orc army is operational. If we act now we can claim the orb and its battery of energy for our own uses. The future dominance of the Arkadians will be ensured.”
“Your advice is advantageous, Specters,” Rauros said. “Generate a spatial portal for us. We are weary of the despotism of the Dire Queen’s meddling. We shall dispatch her and convince Guardon to support our cause or be destroyed.”
“Very well, Scrupulous Assassin,” Jetsam answered. “We will yet avenge our lost brother, Mayhem, and acquire the necessary power to create a permanent rift between the planes.”
The Ephemeral Specters hovered before the line of red-marked soldiers. The heavily armed Captains stood in front of Rauros’ obsidian throne. They faced the goblin and orc army who waited at attention in disciplined regiments below the proscenium.
The ghostly entities flared brightly as they condensed their energy into a spell, warping space.
“Levrond!” they cried.
An arcane wind blasted over the great Audience Chamber of the Abyssal Cairn. The braids and cloaks of the Harad Ghul flapped and twirled in the powerful gusts. A wave of heat washed over the vaulted room as a bright, red sphere appeared over the proscenium.
Flotsam and Jetsam gestured with their azure claws in a spreading motion. The crimson sphere enlarged and became an oval of arcane energy. The specters trembled as they focused their maximum effort on the spatial portal. It continued to spread as a horizontal oval, dwarfing the dimensions of the original breach formed by Ankharet in her magical experimentation. The specters gasped and shied away from their creation.
“It is done,” Jetsam said. “We are spent. The portal will hold for a goodly time. Rauros, lead your army into our breach and contend with the Summoners as you will. We will also pass through because we have business of our own to attend to. Once we are in the Gorgon Plane our energy reserves will be replenished and we will once again assist your cause with full capacities.”
“Thank you, Strong Specters,” said Rauros. “You have provided us with an invaluable service and shall be rewarded accordingly upon our victory.”
The sun-tanned Leader of the Harad Ghul rose from his black, glass dais and lofted his scimitar above the goblin and orc army. He addressed his regiments in a scratching timbre.
“My Kindred, our time is at hand. Our forefathers have long contended with the oppressive borders and picket lines of the troll folk of Gaea. We have the resources now to bring an end to their marginalization of our clans and tribes. The orcs have prospered in Mount Crow since the war with the stone trolls. The goblin tribes in the deep forests of Arkadia have also rallied upon our summons. They will follow their goblin and orc Captains with a greater degree of loyalty than they did the troll woman imposter and her winged courtesan. March with us, now, through the gateway honed by the blue specters. As you can see, the portal is large enough for all of us to pass. The Council Chamber of the Daemon King is exposed on the other side. Let us rush into his throne room and convince him to support us or die!”
The legions of armed goblins raised their brazed, iron weapons in support. They hollered a booming war cry that echoed through the collonades of the Abyssal Cairn. Side by side the orc and goblin cousins marched through the breach. As the last regiment passed the Harad Ghul followed in silence.
Guardon had little warning of the attack on his throne room. He warned Ankharet and his gorgon attendants as the crimson sphere appeared before his stone dais.
“Beware, My Friends. There is a breach forming here. An attack is eminent. Prepare yourselves!”
The single-eyed beholders growled in disdain. They vibrated with agitation.
“What treachery is this? I ordered no one to accompany me to these Spires,” screeched the female Summoner.
Ankharet’s white locks extended outward as she levitated. The troll woman’s eyes rolled white. The Dire Queen condensed her defensive energy in preparation.
A band of goblins and orcs strode through the widened, red oval into the throne room. Several gorgons reacted immediately and howled as they incanted a charm person spell.
The atmosphere was filled with an eerie, atonal melody. Many of the goblins stumbled and stooped in a hypnotic haze. They had fallen under the influence of the beholder’s magic and gazed vacantly into the air. The soldiers forgot their assignments. The gorgons holding the incantation zoomed close to the affected soldiers. The irises of the stone-hued creatures dilated and changed color as they mesmerized their victims.
Successive regiments of Stalactite Orcs marched into the room. Many of them stumbled over their captured companions. They wielded their weapons and yelled in outrage. Two dozen of the goblins swarmed at the beholders. Their numbers were too great for the creatures and they fell quickly under the spinning attacks of the scimitars and axes.
More gorgons flew into the chamber from circular openings in the brick walls. The arcane creatures flexed their antennae, which emitted scald and rot spells. Red and green serpentine tendrils were fired from the tips of the appendages. A handful of goblins screeched as the burning sorcery compromised their steel armor. Others rolled in agony as their gloved hands and arms became infected with the curse of the decay spell. Again the Arkadian soldiers were pushed forward from behind as additional troops marched through the spatial breach. The fallen and injured orcs were dragged and pulled to the sides of the Council Chamber as the fresh soldiers contended with the attacking beholders.
The battle grew fierce and the cinderblock masonry reverberated with cries of pain and anguish. Guardon’s attendants continued their magic volleys and engaged the goblins with their razor sharp mandibles. At last Rauros and the Harad Ghul waded through the carnage.
Ankharet screamed in recognition of her onetime liaison.
“Rauros, how dare you? I did not order you to march on these Spires. Return to Gaea while you still live. I do not require the services of you or your scavenging cousins here.”
“Your power over the goblins in Arkadia is terminated, Dire Queen. Too many of my Harad Ghul fell in your stead. You must reconcile your debt to the clans of Arkadia and convince Guardon to join us. The only other option is death.”
Rauros, Dakros and Loki drew their scimitars and slashed at the nearest gorgons. The Harad Ghul began their approach to the levitating troll woman.
“I’ll never bow to you, Old Assassin. This is an outrage. Ventas!”
The Dire Queen generated an opaque shield around Guardon and herself.
Flotsam and Jetsam glided through the spatial breach and attacked Ankharet at once.
“Electros!” cried the azure specters.
They gesticulated rhythmically, guiding a barrage of sparkling spikes through the shield of the Summoners. The Daemon King and his troll woman accomplice were both smitten by the high velocity bolts. The thick-skinned daemon gasped at the annoying stingers and brushed them from his chest and arms.
The Dire Queen was injured significantly and fell to the floor. The bolts continued to sparkle and her body shuddered convulsively. A pool of green blood formed around her white hair.
“Alas, I am beaten. I curse you specters. I never should have had Themistokles bring you to Gaea. Nevertheless, the Orb of Paryphax is worth the risk. Guardon will yet retrieve it and gain dominance of his plane and mine. I bid you all farewell.”
Ankharet’s eyes closed and her head lolled to the left as she expired.
The Daemon King was angered by the defeat of his beloved.
He yelled, “I will take vengeance for your aggression, Chaotic Specters. My gorgons, eliminate this army of intruders!”
Guardon entered the fray, swinging at the goblins and orcs with his massive, clawed arms.
“Struxis!” he cried.
His teeth and claws flared red with the energy of the lacerating spell. He maimed several of the goblins in his berserker attack. A wave of pale-skinned orcs leaped over their vanquished comrades and slashed at the daemon wholeheartedly with their single-edged blades. The Leader of the Gorgons was cut gashes on his arms and shoulders. The steel-armored goblins were splattered with the daemon’s acidic, green blood. It steamed and pockmarked their armor.
Flotsam and Jetsam again uttered their electric missile attack.
“Electros!”
The sparkling bolts pierced the bronze skin of the Gorgon King. Rivulets of blood dripped from the entrance wounds. The hulking daemon was angered further and rallied his attendants with a harnessing sorcery.
“Gorgax!”
Red energy extended from his claws and wrapped around the beholders. As he continued to assail the bludgeoning goblins he lashed at them with the chains of gorgons. Each creature chomped viciously at the Arkadians as it whipped past them. A number of the Stalactite Orcs were wounded. Rauros and the Harad Ghul gained ground close to the creatures. They slayed several of the beasts but a multitude remained. The red-painted assassins had the great daemon surrounded. Guardon tossed back his head. His curled horns reflected the crimson light of his sorcery. His eyes squinted with the exertion of the struggle. The daemon flapped his leathery wings and lofted his massive girth above the goblins. At least three dozen of the orcs and their kin pummeled the daemon and his attendants from below.
The majority of the remaining beholders were destroyed. They were hacked to pieces, unable to maneuver out of Guardon’s binding spell. The rest of the battered gorgons spun in the air erratically and retreated through their tunnels.
Flotsam and Jetsam attacked the daemon at close range, clawing at his tough hide with their blue claws. The Harad Ghul, goblins and orcs bashed at him.
At last the mighty Summoner landed on the brick floor. He knelt in a defensive posture as he continued to be struck from every possible angle.
“Enough!” he cried. “This is foolishness. Make your demands for I’ve had enough of this harassment.”
“Halt, My Soldiers!” said Rauros. “You have done well this day. Give us some room so that I may parlay with Guardon.”
The members of the goblin army did as they were ordered and backed away from the bronze daemon. They formed a ring of open space at the center of the crowded Council Chamber.
“I relinquish my claim to Gaea. Ankharet has proven to be a challenge for all of us, I’m sure. Let my Spires remain in peace and I give my word never to venture to your plane again.”
“Very well, Guardon,” Rauros answered. “You have demonstrated your valiance in combat to us. We are willing to give you a second chance. Leave our Region free of invasion and we will consent to a truce.”
“So be it, Goblin Leader. We have an understanding. I regret that the other residents of your plane will not be so easily assuaged.”
The Gorgon King rose to his feet and lumbered to his throne. He sat down and rested his head on his fist, pensively.
“Return with your army through the gateway, Assassin King,” Flotsam hissed. “We will remain here, where our power is at its peak. Perhaps we will yet recover the Orb of Paryphax after all.”
“Very well, Specters,” Rauros answered. “We thank you for your aid in dispatching the Dire Queen. You have our support and appreciation.”
The Leader of the Harad Ghul guided his forces through the crimson gateway.
***
Lord Taliesin and Gilead, the Key Mage, scanned the horizon beyond the foundation of Guardon’s Spires. They saw a group of spider creatures standing outside the main gate.
There were scattered groups of Lykanthros who were connected with the rhythmic patterns emitted by the electric, blue lightning field. The electricity pulsed from the multitude of steeples and flying buttresses atop the massive fortress. The wolf creatures did not interfere with the Arachnoids. The Lykanthros had an innate apprehension of the sturdy beings.
“These must be the same spider creatures We saw through the portal in the Abyssal Cairn,” Gilead said. “They are opponents of the Lykanthros. Let us approach them and communicate if possible.”
The band of Gaean mercenaries marched forward to the tall gateway of The Spires. Dweeble Dworx saw the travelers drawing near and skittered up to meet them. He hummed a greeting to them using mindsong.
Welcome, Humanoids. Your halfling friend and others from your plane battle inside the daemon’s fortress. We intended to help them but were thwarted by the charm spells of the gorgons. Venture within and assist their efforts. We will hold here and provide transportation for you if the need arises.
“Thank you, Arachnoid Friend. We saw your giant Hive as we approached. You creatures are adept and resourceful engineers. We Gaeans will travel onward but thank you for your offer,” said the Baroness.
The band of fighters passed through the walls outside the courtyard of the towering Spires. They marveled at the pair of guardian colossi that stood at the sides. Sharon gazed at the red-jeweled eyes of the ominous stone griffons.
“The rubies in those statues are the same as the one in the amulet found in the cave of the goblin bandits. It is evident that there has been trade and commerce between the planes for some time,” observed the Liege Lady.
“We amazons also perceived unusual vibrations in the Ghastly Fens before the arrival of the Lykanthros invaders. The Dire Queen clearly sought both power and wealth through the spatial portals she created. It is good that she was interrupted from her agenda of magical manipulation. The fabric of the space-time continuum is not something to be toyed with for personal gain,” Jalhi said.
Gilead led the group of troll folk and anthromorphs into the structure of Guardon’s Spires. Bjorn Roundtree and his newfound friends were just completing their battle with the gorgons. They were helping Nighthawk to his feet after Anemone healed his injuries. The halfling turned to the arching doorway and recognized his friends.
“Taliesin, Gilead, Sharon, Leif! It’s good to see all of you. I’m enthralled that you are in good health. I take it that you sealed the portal in the Abyssal Cairn?”
The spritely halfling scampered to his friends and hugged them around the waist in greeting.
“We are equally heartened to find you in one piece, Mischievous Friend,” Leif said. “Our merry band was concerned for your welfare after you were dragged by Guardon into this Gorgon Plane.”
“I was captivated by his anklet,” Bjorn replied. “It has an intriguing latticework. I can’t speculate as to who made it. The delicate band was not fabricated by the clumsy daemon. It is a lingering mystery that I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of eventually.”
The halfling pulled the sparkling trinket from his travel pack and briefly displayed its shiny composition to his friends.
“Let us seek the Leader of the Gorgons and his troll woman accomplice in these Spires. We Gaeans, stuck here in this plane, are just as concerned for the future safety and welfare of our respective Regions as you mercenaries are.”
“That is wise advice, Bjorn. We should divide ourselves into groups. The levels of this fortress are sure to hold unseen creatures and items beyond our ken. All of us have battle experience, now. Whatever challenges await us in this great stronghold will meet us with keen hands and fresh minds,” Taliesin said.
The fighters climbed the central stairway of the fortress and came upon a hallway that ended with three wooden doors.
“My wyverns and amazons will travel with Fangoz, Leif, Sigrid and Thorgrym through the left door,” said Jalhi. “We will hold our own and return to this hall once we have thoroughly explored the chambers within.”
“Gilead, Taliesin, Bors, Rodnik, Alex and I will take the central passage. If our suspicions are correct we will confront the daemon and the Dire Queen and eliminate them,” declared Lady Sharon.
“I will go with Nighthawk and his goblins, Reoren and the wood trolls, Gearzon, the Knights of Coermantyr and Mystic Down as well as the merfolk. We will explore the right path,” said Bjorn. “Our team will also return to this place once we have completed our reconnaissance within. May good fortune and victory be with all of you. We have the fate of Gaea resting on our shoulders.”
The enthusiastic halfling shook hands with each member of the group. The fighters and magic users strapped their travel packs and held their blades and bows at the ready. They each opened their respective doors. The portals were not locked and swung open once pulled by brass handles attached to their centers.
***
Lady Redthorne, Baroness of Coermantyr, and her companions stood before a spiraling stairway. The carved stone steps were lit with torches. The stairway curled around a great, central pillar that reached up and down into the darkness of Guardon’s Spires. Additional lamps swung in the black void at altering heights, descending from iron chains attached to the invisible ceiling hundreds of yards above.
“There are surely Lykanthros and unfriendly Denizens of the Under Earth down there,” said the amber-haired troll woman. “The Gorgon Plane is permeated with untamed magic. I wish we had the resources to fully explore the depths of this fortress. I wouldn’t be surprised if the misguided creatures that inhabit this plane could be convinced of the peaceful intentions of the Gaeans and one day author a truce.”
“I agree, My Lady,” offered Alex. “The tampering of the Summoners in Arkadia has brought a new age upon us. We are destined to experience more contact throughout the Mandala of the Planes, as Restadicus called it, whatever the outcome of our current mission.”
The mercenaries began a careful march up the precipitous stairway, holding their swords and bows at the ready. Without warning a flock of vampire bats plummeted down from the shadows above.”
CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 9
“Bors, come here. Open our travel pack and deliver Ankharet’s shard to Siegemunde.”
“As you wish, My Lady,” the innkeeper said.
He lifted the cumbersome, leather pack from his shoulder and opened it. The burly troll placed the glinting shard on a wooden stand which Siegemunde had ready. The Director of the Martial Academy adorned a pair of wire-framed spectacles. He laid his fingers over the jagged glass and hummed with interest.
“This glass has indeed been used for more than simple communication with distant Regions of Gaea. It vibrates still with the echoes of dangerous and alien magic. I fear that Ankharet herself does not understand the risk in opening rifts to other planes. Her folly is that she can maintain control over magic of this nature. I will create a rift with this device but must destroy it upon your return. There are daemons and beings far more powerful that have been awakened by the erratic energies harnessed by this glass. Prepare yourselves, My Friends, for once you are placed in close proximity to the Summoners you will certainly be confronted by diabolical and malevolent entities in their own element. They will have no restraint upon their base energies.”
“We are ready, Siegemunde,” said Lord Taliesin. “This battle has been long in the making and must be brought to an end for the good of all our lands.”
The husky troll drew his broadsword and held it at the ready. The other mercenaries and anthromorphs wielded their weapons in turn.
The Director uttered a harnessing incantation.
“Spiros!”
The scrying glass shook visibly as it ignited with red light. The arcane rays passed through Siegemunde’s outstretched fingers, forming eerie beams in the smoky air.
“Curses, it burns,” the wizard cried.
His hairless head became dotted with perspiration from the degree of his concentration.
The crimson energy intensified and focused on a point in front of the troll’s desk.
“I will hold for you, My Friends. The breach is forming. Deal with the Summoners as you must. My students will assist me in keeping the gateway open until you return.”
The magic of the scrying glass condensed into a bright sphere. This focal point expanded, forming a doorway. It looked upon the valley of Guardon’s Spires. A gathering of Arachnoids waited patiently outside its walls. The mercenaries did not hesitate and marched in single file through the portal.
“Farewell, Troll Wizard,” said Fangoz.
He was the last to enter the rift. The lumbering stone troll stooped to fit, dragging his metallic club behind him.
“May The Fates be with us,” Siegemunde murmured.
“My Students, hasten to the Council Chambers. I have need of your assistance!”
The Director of the Martial Academy yelled up the stairs with a voice that boomed over the Fens.
***
Flotsam and Jetsam hovered behind a cluster of bushes. They watched the gathering of farmers and merchants crowd into Bard’s Inn, the unofficial community center of Wood’s End. The glowing specters dimmed their luminosity, making their appearance as shadow-like as possible. As they passed the hitching post the tethered horses remained docile. A pair of the steeds shook their manes as a chilling breeze wafted across their backs.
Jetsam whispered to his companion as they crouched below an iron-framed window.
“Let’s watch and wait. Now that Themistokles is gone we are free to bring others into this plane. The Gorgon King is but a pawn of the Dire Queen. If we succeed we shall gain control of his plane and ours. The Drystyx Monks serve only Thoth. With the Orb of Paryphax we can break the Gong Seal at the heart of Guardon’s Spires. The Monks of Chaos will once again be free to move through the Gorgon Plane and eventually take hold of Gaea itself.
Torvald had taken over his father’s capacity as Innkeeper. He made sure that the ale kegs were fresh and the patrons served hearty platters of mutton and roasted potatoes. The swarthy, bearded troll addressed the diners, unaware of the listening specters outside.
“The Lykanthros have been banished, My Friends. Our Lieges travel now to the Ghastly Fens to open a breach to the Gorgon Plane. The halfling, Bjorn Roundtree, will soon be rescued and the Summoners eliminated permanently. An era of peace is dawning. Let’s toast our victory!”
The trolls and troll women cheered and quaffed draughts of brew from their steins.
“The orb has been moved,” said Jetsam.
The taller of the two specters gazed into the dark woods of Mystic Down as he contemplated the course of events. The dimly lit, azure specter turned to his brother.
“Let’s return to the Abyssal Cairn. Rauros and the Harad Ghul have completed their reconnaissance of Coermantyr and await us there. He is in the process of reuniting the goblin forces. Now that we are free of Themistokles’ bonds we can visit the Gorgon Plane as we wish. I suspect the Orb of Paryphax has found its way there. Perhaps we shall lead our own garrison of goblins to conquer The Spires in the volcanic plane on the behalf of the specters and the Drystyx Monks. Thoth is sure to be pleased.”
The Ephemeral Beings chuckled as they sped off into the thick forest outside of Wood’s End.
***
Rauros sat on the obsidian throne at the heart of the Abyssal Cairn in Arkadia. A massive army of goblins and orcs gathered in the spacious audience chamber.
The wrinkled Goblin Master addressed his two assistants who stood at his side.
“Loki and Dakros, you have done well to rouse our cousins and relatives from their subterranean lairs. Ankharet had no comprehension of our numbers residing deep in the Under Earth. The hidden lakes and secret goatherds have brought prosperity to our Kingdom. Arkadia belongs to the goblins and their kin once again!”
The army of goblins and orcs cheered a bellowing roar that reverberated up to the vaulted ceiling. The torches that limned the collonades flickered with renewed reservoirs of orcish oil.
“Dakros, select a trio of goblins. Loki, choose two. We will return the octet of the Harad Ghul to its original size,” Rauros ordered.
“We have made our selections,” answered Dakros.
A group of five, hulking goblins stepped forward. They hearkened from the Stalactite Tribe. Their pale skin was a distinguishing characteristic of their population. Most Stalactite Goblins and Orcs lived out their lives in clandestine cities built miles within the interconnected caves of the Under Earth. The branching tunnels formed a labyrinthine network of caverns whose full reaches were memorized by only the eldest of pale, goblin navigators.
“Rauros,” Loki asked, “We request that the Harad Ghul be strengthened from its original eight to a group of twelve. We have selected four of our orc cousins to assist us. Their tribes have remained hidden since the bloodshed of the war with the trolls. These assassins hail from the orc lairs in the Arkadian Mountain Range. They have long rejected their troll heritage and wish to be welcomed into the fold of the goblin army.”
The orc soldiers were taller than their goblin kindred. They were muscular and carried jagged broadswords and longbows.
“My name is Blueblood. We offer our allegiance to the Harad Ghul. Each of us is a Captain of the orc tribes in Crow Mountain. We have succeeded in rebuilding our cities since the campaign against the stone trolls and troll folk. Our echelon is prepared to demonstrate the strength of Arkadia to the other Regions of Gaea.”
“Very well, Blueblood. I welcome you and your soldiers into our army.”
Rauros rose and embraced each of the four, orc assassins in acceptance. He beckoned for the ceremonial, red paint that he donned on his new recruits.
The pair of specters, Flotsam and Jetsam, glided above the waiting army to face Rauros. Flotsam addressed the Leader of the Harad Ghul.
“Goblin Master, the signature of the Orb of Paryphax, left by Themistokles, has vanished from this plane. We searched far into Mystic Down and flew past Coermantyr as well. It has been taken to the Gorgon Plane. We offer our assistance to open a breach to Guardon’s Spires. This newly formed goblin and orc army is operational. If we act now we can claim the orb and its battery of energy for our own uses. The future dominance of the Arkadians will be ensured.”
“Your advice is advantageous, Specters,” Rauros said. “Generate a spatial portal for us. We are weary of the despotism of the Dire Queen’s meddling. We shall dispatch her and convince Guardon to support our cause or be destroyed.”
“Very well, Scrupulous Assassin,” Jetsam answered. “We will yet avenge our lost brother, Mayhem, and acquire the necessary power to create a permanent rift between the planes.”
The Ephemeral Specters hovered before the line of red-marked soldiers. The heavily armed Captains stood in front of Rauros’ obsidian throne. They faced the goblin and orc army who waited at attention in disciplined regiments below the proscenium.
The ghostly entities flared brightly as they condensed their energy into a spell, warping space.
“Levrond!” they cried.
An arcane wind blasted over the great Audience Chamber of the Abyssal Cairn. The braids and cloaks of the Harad Ghul flapped and twirled in the powerful gusts. A wave of heat washed over the vaulted room as a bright, red sphere appeared over the proscenium.
Flotsam and Jetsam gestured with their azure claws in a spreading motion. The crimson sphere enlarged and became an oval of arcane energy. The specters trembled as they focused their maximum effort on the spatial portal. It continued to spread as a horizontal oval, dwarfing the dimensions of the original breach formed by Ankharet in her magical experimentation. The specters gasped and shied away from their creation.
“It is done,” Jetsam said. “We are spent. The portal will hold for a goodly time. Rauros, lead your army into our breach and contend with the Summoners as you will. We will also pass through because we have business of our own to attend to. Once we are in the Gorgon Plane our energy reserves will be replenished and we will once again assist your cause with full capacities.”
“Thank you, Strong Specters,” said Rauros. “You have provided us with an invaluable service and shall be rewarded accordingly upon our victory.”
The sun-tanned Leader of the Harad Ghul rose from his black, glass dais and lofted his scimitar above the goblin and orc army. He addressed his regiments in a scratching timbre.
“My Kindred, our time is at hand. Our forefathers have long contended with the oppressive borders and picket lines of the troll folk of Gaea. We have the resources now to bring an end to their marginalization of our clans and tribes. The orcs have prospered in Mount Crow since the war with the stone trolls. The goblin tribes in the deep forests of Arkadia have also rallied upon our summons. They will follow their goblin and orc Captains with a greater degree of loyalty than they did the troll woman imposter and her winged courtesan. March with us, now, through the gateway honed by the blue specters. As you can see, the portal is large enough for all of us to pass. The Council Chamber of the Daemon King is exposed on the other side. Let us rush into his throne room and convince him to support us or die!”
The legions of armed goblins raised their brazed, iron weapons in support. They hollered a booming war cry that echoed through the collonades of the Abyssal Cairn. Side by side the orc and goblin cousins marched through the breach. As the last regiment passed the Harad Ghul followed in silence.
Guardon had little warning of the attack on his throne room. He warned Ankharet and his gorgon attendants as the crimson sphere appeared before his stone dais.
“Beware, My Friends. There is a breach forming here. An attack is eminent. Prepare yourselves!”
The single-eyed beholders growled in disdain. They vibrated with agitation.
“What treachery is this? I ordered no one to accompany me to these Spires,” screeched the female Summoner.
Ankharet’s white locks extended outward as she levitated. The troll woman’s eyes rolled white. The Dire Queen condensed her defensive energy in preparation.
A band of goblins and orcs strode through the widened, red oval into the throne room. Several gorgons reacted immediately and howled as they incanted a charm person spell.
The atmosphere was filled with an eerie, atonal melody. Many of the goblins stumbled and stooped in a hypnotic haze. They had fallen under the influence of the beholder’s magic and gazed vacantly into the air. The soldiers forgot their assignments. The gorgons holding the incantation zoomed close to the affected soldiers. The irises of the stone-hued creatures dilated and changed color as they mesmerized their victims.
Successive regiments of Stalactite Orcs marched into the room. Many of them stumbled over their captured companions. They wielded their weapons and yelled in outrage. Two dozen of the goblins swarmed at the beholders. Their numbers were too great for the creatures and they fell quickly under the spinning attacks of the scimitars and axes.
More gorgons flew into the chamber from circular openings in the brick walls. The arcane creatures flexed their antennae, which emitted scald and rot spells. Red and green serpentine tendrils were fired from the tips of the appendages. A handful of goblins screeched as the burning sorcery compromised their steel armor. Others rolled in agony as their gloved hands and arms became infected with the curse of the decay spell. Again the Arkadian soldiers were pushed forward from behind as additional troops marched through the spatial breach. The fallen and injured orcs were dragged and pulled to the sides of the Council Chamber as the fresh soldiers contended with the attacking beholders.
The battle grew fierce and the cinderblock masonry reverberated with cries of pain and anguish. Guardon’s attendants continued their magic volleys and engaged the goblins with their razor sharp mandibles. At last Rauros and the Harad Ghul waded through the carnage.
Ankharet screamed in recognition of her onetime liaison.
“Rauros, how dare you? I did not order you to march on these Spires. Return to Gaea while you still live. I do not require the services of you or your scavenging cousins here.”
“Your power over the goblins in Arkadia is terminated, Dire Queen. Too many of my Harad Ghul fell in your stead. You must reconcile your debt to the clans of Arkadia and convince Guardon to join us. The only other option is death.”
Rauros, Dakros and Loki drew their scimitars and slashed at the nearest gorgons. The Harad Ghul began their approach to the levitating troll woman.
“I’ll never bow to you, Old Assassin. This is an outrage. Ventas!”
The Dire Queen generated an opaque shield around Guardon and herself.
Flotsam and Jetsam glided through the spatial breach and attacked Ankharet at once.
“Electros!” cried the azure specters.
They gesticulated rhythmically, guiding a barrage of sparkling spikes through the shield of the Summoners. The Daemon King and his troll woman accomplice were both smitten by the high velocity bolts. The thick-skinned daemon gasped at the annoying stingers and brushed them from his chest and arms.
The Dire Queen was injured significantly and fell to the floor. The bolts continued to sparkle and her body shuddered convulsively. A pool of green blood formed around her white hair.
“Alas, I am beaten. I curse you specters. I never should have had Themistokles bring you to Gaea. Nevertheless, the Orb of Paryphax is worth the risk. Guardon will yet retrieve it and gain dominance of his plane and mine. I bid you all farewell.”
Ankharet’s eyes closed and her head lolled to the left as she expired.
The Daemon King was angered by the defeat of his beloved.
He yelled, “I will take vengeance for your aggression, Chaotic Specters. My gorgons, eliminate this army of intruders!”
Guardon entered the fray, swinging at the goblins and orcs with his massive, clawed arms.
“Struxis!” he cried.
His teeth and claws flared red with the energy of the lacerating spell. He maimed several of the goblins in his berserker attack. A wave of pale-skinned orcs leaped over their vanquished comrades and slashed at the daemon wholeheartedly with their single-edged blades. The Leader of the Gorgons was cut gashes on his arms and shoulders. The steel-armored goblins were splattered with the daemon’s acidic, green blood. It steamed and pockmarked their armor.
Flotsam and Jetsam again uttered their electric missile attack.
“Electros!”
The sparkling bolts pierced the bronze skin of the Gorgon King. Rivulets of blood dripped from the entrance wounds. The hulking daemon was angered further and rallied his attendants with a harnessing sorcery.
“Gorgax!”
Red energy extended from his claws and wrapped around the beholders. As he continued to assail the bludgeoning goblins he lashed at them with the chains of gorgons. Each creature chomped viciously at the Arkadians as it whipped past them. A number of the Stalactite Orcs were wounded. Rauros and the Harad Ghul gained ground close to the creatures. They slayed several of the beasts but a multitude remained. The red-painted assassins had the great daemon surrounded. Guardon tossed back his head. His curled horns reflected the crimson light of his sorcery. His eyes squinted with the exertion of the struggle. The daemon flapped his leathery wings and lofted his massive girth above the goblins. At least three dozen of the orcs and their kin pummeled the daemon and his attendants from below.
The majority of the remaining beholders were destroyed. They were hacked to pieces, unable to maneuver out of Guardon’s binding spell. The rest of the battered gorgons spun in the air erratically and retreated through their tunnels.
Flotsam and Jetsam attacked the daemon at close range, clawing at his tough hide with their blue claws. The Harad Ghul, goblins and orcs bashed at him.
At last the mighty Summoner landed on the brick floor. He knelt in a defensive posture as he continued to be struck from every possible angle.
“Enough!” he cried. “This is foolishness. Make your demands for I’ve had enough of this harassment.”
“Halt, My Soldiers!” said Rauros. “You have done well this day. Give us some room so that I may parlay with Guardon.”
The members of the goblin army did as they were ordered and backed away from the bronze daemon. They formed a ring of open space at the center of the crowded Council Chamber.
“I relinquish my claim to Gaea. Ankharet has proven to be a challenge for all of us, I’m sure. Let my Spires remain in peace and I give my word never to venture to your plane again.”
“Very well, Guardon,” Rauros answered. “You have demonstrated your valiance in combat to us. We are willing to give you a second chance. Leave our Region free of invasion and we will consent to a truce.”
“So be it, Goblin Leader. We have an understanding. I regret that the other residents of your plane will not be so easily assuaged.”
The Gorgon King rose to his feet and lumbered to his throne. He sat down and rested his head on his fist, pensively.
“Return with your army through the gateway, Assassin King,” Flotsam hissed. “We will remain here, where our power is at its peak. Perhaps we will yet recover the Orb of Paryphax after all.”
“Very well, Specters,” Rauros answered. “We thank you for your aid in dispatching the Dire Queen. You have our support and appreciation.”
The Leader of the Harad Ghul guided his forces through the crimson gateway.
***
Lord Taliesin and Gilead, the Key Mage, scanned the horizon beyond the foundation of Guardon’s Spires. They saw a group of spider creatures standing outside the main gate.
There were scattered groups of Lykanthros who were connected with the rhythmic patterns emitted by the electric, blue lightning field. The electricity pulsed from the multitude of steeples and flying buttresses atop the massive fortress. The wolf creatures did not interfere with the Arachnoids. The Lykanthros had an innate apprehension of the sturdy beings.
“These must be the same spider creatures We saw through the portal in the Abyssal Cairn,” Gilead said. “They are opponents of the Lykanthros. Let us approach them and communicate if possible.”
The band of Gaean mercenaries marched forward to the tall gateway of The Spires. Dweeble Dworx saw the travelers drawing near and skittered up to meet them. He hummed a greeting to them using mindsong.
Welcome, Humanoids. Your halfling friend and others from your plane battle inside the daemon’s fortress. We intended to help them but were thwarted by the charm spells of the gorgons. Venture within and assist their efforts. We will hold here and provide transportation for you if the need arises.
“Thank you, Arachnoid Friend. We saw your giant Hive as we approached. You creatures are adept and resourceful engineers. We Gaeans will travel onward but thank you for your offer,” said the Baroness.
The band of fighters passed through the walls outside the courtyard of the towering Spires. They marveled at the pair of guardian colossi that stood at the sides. Sharon gazed at the red-jeweled eyes of the ominous stone griffons.
“The rubies in those statues are the same as the one in the amulet found in the cave of the goblin bandits. It is evident that there has been trade and commerce between the planes for some time,” observed the Liege Lady.
“We amazons also perceived unusual vibrations in the Ghastly Fens before the arrival of the Lykanthros invaders. The Dire Queen clearly sought both power and wealth through the spatial portals she created. It is good that she was interrupted from her agenda of magical manipulation. The fabric of the space-time continuum is not something to be toyed with for personal gain,” Jalhi said.
Gilead led the group of troll folk and anthromorphs into the structure of Guardon’s Spires. Bjorn Roundtree and his newfound friends were just completing their battle with the gorgons. They were helping Nighthawk to his feet after Anemone healed his injuries. The halfling turned to the arching doorway and recognized his friends.
“Taliesin, Gilead, Sharon, Leif! It’s good to see all of you. I’m enthralled that you are in good health. I take it that you sealed the portal in the Abyssal Cairn?”
The spritely halfling scampered to his friends and hugged them around the waist in greeting.
“We are equally heartened to find you in one piece, Mischievous Friend,” Leif said. “Our merry band was concerned for your welfare after you were dragged by Guardon into this Gorgon Plane.”
“I was captivated by his anklet,” Bjorn replied. “It has an intriguing latticework. I can’t speculate as to who made it. The delicate band was not fabricated by the clumsy daemon. It is a lingering mystery that I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of eventually.”
The halfling pulled the sparkling trinket from his travel pack and briefly displayed its shiny composition to his friends.
“Let us seek the Leader of the Gorgons and his troll woman accomplice in these Spires. We Gaeans, stuck here in this plane, are just as concerned for the future safety and welfare of our respective Regions as you mercenaries are.”
“That is wise advice, Bjorn. We should divide ourselves into groups. The levels of this fortress are sure to hold unseen creatures and items beyond our ken. All of us have battle experience, now. Whatever challenges await us in this great stronghold will meet us with keen hands and fresh minds,” Taliesin said.
The fighters climbed the central stairway of the fortress and came upon a hallway that ended with three wooden doors.
“My wyverns and amazons will travel with Fangoz, Leif, Sigrid and Thorgrym through the left door,” said Jalhi. “We will hold our own and return to this hall once we have thoroughly explored the chambers within.”
“Gilead, Taliesin, Bors, Rodnik, Alex and I will take the central passage. If our suspicions are correct we will confront the daemon and the Dire Queen and eliminate them,” declared Lady Sharon.
“I will go with Nighthawk and his goblins, Reoren and the wood trolls, Gearzon, the Knights of Coermantyr and Mystic Down as well as the merfolk. We will explore the right path,” said Bjorn. “Our team will also return to this place once we have completed our reconnaissance within. May good fortune and victory be with all of you. We have the fate of Gaea resting on our shoulders.”
The enthusiastic halfling shook hands with each member of the group. The fighters and magic users strapped their travel packs and held their blades and bows at the ready. They each opened their respective doors. The portals were not locked and swung open once pulled by brass handles attached to their centers.
***
Lady Redthorne, Baroness of Coermantyr, and her companions stood before a spiraling stairway. The carved stone steps were lit with torches. The stairway curled around a great, central pillar that reached up and down into the darkness of Guardon’s Spires. Additional lamps swung in the black void at altering heights, descending from iron chains attached to the invisible ceiling hundreds of yards above.
“There are surely Lykanthros and unfriendly Denizens of the Under Earth down there,” said the amber-haired troll woman. “The Gorgon Plane is permeated with untamed magic. I wish we had the resources to fully explore the depths of this fortress. I wouldn’t be surprised if the misguided creatures that inhabit this plane could be convinced of the peaceful intentions of the Gaeans and one day author a truce.”
“I agree, My Lady,” offered Alex. “The tampering of the Summoners in Arkadia has brought a new age upon us. We are destined to experience more contact throughout the Mandala of the Planes, as Restadicus called it, whatever the outcome of our current mission.”
The mercenaries began a careful march up the precipitous stairway, holding their swords and bows at the ready. Without warning a flock of vampire bats plummeted down from the shadows above.”
CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 9
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