The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  Duroc’s creepy gaze left Kiriana uneasy. She tried to ignore it, but the chills forced their way down her spine. Don’t let him know he’s getting to you. Kiriana did her best to hide her discomfort, keeping her expression as flat as possible.

  “Okay, then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll begin,” said Duroc.

  He didn’t wait for a response, though, instead he rubbed his hands together excitedly before pulling the sapphire Elder Stone free from his leather pouch. With his fingers wrapped halfway around the large blue gemstone, he began the spell. The evocation was quick. Brilliant light filled the sapphire, making it appear to swell with power. Clouds filled with the sparkling essence of magic fell down over them, leaving them cast in a veil of hazy black light.

  Their eyes struggled to adjust to the dramatic shift of colors and contrasts. Dark colors grew darker, while light colors grew incredibly bright, especially that of the blue gemstone. It was blinding. Once Duroc was satisfied with the ward and his vision, he slipped the stone back into his pouch and said, “Go!”

  The six companions darted down the final hallway before finding themselves in the palace foyer. A quick scan by Kiriana confirmed that there was no one blocking their path, so she led the way out of the palace into the courtyard beyond. A goblin swarm buzzed about aimlessly at a nearby encampment. Kiriana crept forward as she surveyed the courtyard. Once she realized that she was indeed unseen, she dashed across the courtyard, leading the way.

  Her companions followed her lead and raced after her. Nal’drin and Sharka were close behind her. The two dwarves were in the middle and Theros pulled up the rear. The invisible party snaked their way through the twenty-something goblins on hand. In no time they were beyond the crumbled remains of the outer wall, and they were running through the city streets. Then all hell broke loose.

  Wailing and screeching sounds came rushing like a great torrent of rain as the mahlzur flooded into the streets. The rat-men sprang forward on their powerful hind legs. Their hunched, flea-bitten bodies charged hard as they howled. Their distinctive horns and crude weapons bounced up and down with each bounding stride.

  Panic broke out in the goblin camp as the rat-mens poured into the courtyard. The greenskins scrambled to grab their weapons, but soon they realized it wouldn’t matter. Twenty-some-odd goblins could not stand against hundreds of attackers, and that is just what they were facing. The goblin swarm scattered. Weapons, armaments, supplies, and even bodies went sprawling as the chaos and confusion mounted. Before the goblins could escape though, the mahlzur were on them. The monstrous creations of Duroc’s warped mind slaughtered the goblin force without hesitation. There was no resistance. Old rugged iron spears and halberds made short work of the swarm.

  Dominar, horrified, watched over his shoulder as the legion of rat-men painted the courtyard red. This better work, he thought. The dwarf’s stout little legs struggled to keep pace with the others, but they had little choice. They were being hunted, and though they were invisible at the moment, Duroc assured them it wouldn’t last long.

  What I’d do for a pair of long legs!

  Duroc wasn’t much better off. Sure, he was a good bit taller than Dom, but at five-foot-two he was still a head shorter than the girls. Duroc was kicking himself for never studying any spells that would help in this type of situation. Complaining or wishing for a different body wouldn’t help either of them now though, so they just ran.

  Kiriana led the team through the streets. Weaving past the debris left in Krom Krom’s wake, the six made a beeline toward the city’s main gate. With the cloak of invisibility, they took the most direct route. Within minutes they had reached the city gates and the long bridge that spanned the untold depths of the cavern. Only two goblins were posted on the bridge. Kiriana contemplated her move, and she broke out into a dead sprint. She flew across the stone bridge, and slammed her fist into the side of the first goblin’s skull. His head jerked violently off to his right, and before he knew it, he was off balance and falling into the unending darkness below. The goblin howled in terror. The second goblin spun just in time to see his counterpart disappear. The stunned look on his face was nothing compared to the one that came next when he was shoved by unseen hands. The bewildered goblin was too confused to scream until he was swallowed by the void below.

  She paused for a moment and looked back as she waited for the others to catch up to her. A few breaths later and the others had reached her.

  “We could have... just slipped by, why’d... you do that?” asked Dom between deep breaths.

  “It’s two less I have to kill if this turns south. Let’s go!” She drew a tight line with her lips, then she turned and ran.

  Six minutes passed before they made it from the palace foyer all the way across the bridge and into the large tunnel that would take them back to the Merchant Quarter. They’d made considerable progress, but they still had a long way to go. Now they had the problem of being in a very confined space. Yes, they were hidden, but every pad of their feet and every labored breath would be amplified as long as they were in this tunnel. Kiriana quickly recognized that and realized that they would have to be more careful or risk being caught. She slowed her pace to a brisk walk. The two dwarves didn’t know why she slowed her pace, but they were thankful regardless.

  The one thing that they had going for them, in addition to their ward of course, was the enhanced sight that it offered by way of the magical shroud. Yes, some things did appear much darker, but somehow the tunnel was almost illuminated in that odd dark violet luminescence. So as they group moved in a snake-like, single-file fashion, they did so without the need for any torches or gemlight. This made their navigation in the confined space easy.

  The journey through the tunnel had been mostly uneventful and despite a heavy goblin presence, they were able to stealthily navigate around the unsuspecting scouts time and time again. It had taken time, a lot of time. The going had been slow, but they were nearing the end of the tunnel, and its end was in sight. There was one problem though—goblins, and lots of them. The tunnel mouth, which opened to the Merchant Quarter, was teeming with them. There had to be three or four swarms of them at least, all clumped closely together in small camps.

  Kiriana stopped dead in her tracks and raised her right hand, a balled fist, high into the air in clear view for her companions to see. They halted their advance. She stepped aside to allow them a more clear view of the obstacle that awaited them. Theros raised his axe in silent response, but Kiriana said no with a shake of her head. Nal’drin pointed to himself and Duroc, then gestured with his hands as he suggested a more incendiary solution to their problems. Kiriana shook her head even more vigorously at this. Nal’drin slumped his shoulders and pouted with disappointment.

  Then Kiriana used her finger to let Duroc know that she wanted him to come forward. Following her signal, the dwarf moved to her side. Kiriana bent low and whispered something in his ear, then she pointed to the encampment on the left side. She continued to whisper in his ear and finished by pointing to one of the groups on the right side. Then she stood up and looked at the dwarf, awaiting his response. Duroc took a second look at the encampment on the left, then the one on the near right, and he nodded approvingly.

  Kiriana in turn relayed the plan to the others. She pointed to the group on the left with one hand, then the group on the right with the other, and then she brought her fists together, knuckle to knuckle. Then, with her finger, she made a circular gesture toward the others, and then she used her fingers to signify running. The plan was simple, get one group to fight the others, then in the midst of chaos, run! She checked to make sure everyone understood the plan, and then she turned and gave Duroc the go-ahead.

  Duroc reached his hand into his leather pouch just enough to touch the cool surface of the Elder Stone, and then he began a hushed incantation. The hum of the magic and the sound of his voice were amplified and echoed in that tunnel, but it was too late. The plan had been set in motion.


  Duroc set his focus on the goblins that camped to the left side of the tunnel’s exit. The majority of the swarm huddled around the budding campfire. It was nearly dinner-time and they were about to begin cooking their meal, and that is when Duroc found the perfect target. The large side of meat, which he guessed was most likely mule, that waited to be thrown on the fire. Duroc called upon the Qarii, and used his will to command them. The Qarii snatched the uncooked dinner away from the camp with a quick jerk, and flung it next to the cook in the next camp.

  The goblin cook on the left realized his food was missing, and he spun about to locate it. His sickly yellow eyes spotted the uncooked meat in a flash. The goblin snarled and spat in anger as he stormed off to retrieve the food. The goblin grabbed the big chunk of meat and prepared to haul it off, but the other goblins weren’t having it.

  “Thief!” squawked a goblin, thrusting an accusing finger at the cook.

  “You’s stoled first!” said the first goblin.

  “We’s no steal, you one taking!” said another goblin.

  “You take our only meat!” shouted the first goblin as he tugged on the raw meat.

  “You’s lose meat, not our problem,” responded yet another greedy goblin.

  It didn’t matter that the one goblin swarm already had food, or that the others didn’t; they were not about to let it go without a fight. Negotiations were over. A dagger flashed, and then it was gone, its blade buried into the neck of another goblin. Blood sprayed, and the frenzy began. It was an absolute free-for-all as the two camps descended into blood-shedding madness. It wasn’t long before the fight sprawled out into the neighboring third encampment, and soon they were all battling.

  “Go!” said Kiriana with urgency as she sprang out of the tunnel.

  She took the widest possible route out around the left side of the fight and soon she and her companions were running down the streets with the goblins far behind. We did it! she thought. But her optimism was dampened a moment later when she heard a familiar sound. A screeching wail screamed from the tunnel’s throat. The mahlzur were coming.

  Kiriana glanced over her shoulder as she fled, and what she saw terrified her. Like the scene before, the horde of rat beasts washed over the unsuspecting goblin forces like a destructive wave. The already embattled goblins didn’t stand a chance. Spears pierced what halberds couldn’t sever. Green bodies spilled their contents as they fell to the streets.

  1500... 1501... 1502... over twenty-five minutes, thought Kiriana. Time was escaping them fast; not only would they not make it far enough at this point, but the mahlzur were gaining ground. It’s time to make a move.

  “Duroc, you’re gonna need to buy us some time or distance,” shouted Kiriana.

  “Just... how... am I... to do that?” demanded the incredulous king between gasps.

  “Figure it out, or we’re dead!” she shouted without breaking stride.

  The master slayer led them through the streets of the Merchant Quarter, her fiery locks and her cloaked companions trailed behind her.

  Duroc did his best to keep up, but the gears in his mind raced far faster. He knew she was right, and at this rate, there was no way they’d clear the Merchant Quarter before the ward ran out, especially considering that they were about to run right smack into the goblin army, or at least that’s what he expected. So the king’s mind worked frantically to find a solution as they ran. Then it clicked.

  “We need to get to the bank!” shouted Duroc.

  “Why the bank?” asked Nal’drin with a sideways glance.

  “We can use the vault to buy us time.”

  “Oh,” was Nal’drin less-than-confident response.

  Aside from their haggard breathing, the group fell quiet after that, and it was a good thing, too. The front lines of the goblin army were just around the bend. Kiriana was the first one to round the corner. She was the first to see what lay ahead of them, and what a sight it was. The wide streets of the Merchant Quarter were packed tightly with the goblin force, and it was massive. Kiriana had no way of knowing how large the army truly was from here. Goblin ranks stretched far beyond sight until the street eventually curved away. There have to be thousands, she guessed.

  Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to race uncontrollably. Panic was setting in. There was no way that they could slip past this army, not in these cramped quarters. They were about to be trapped. They had to come up with a new plan, and they needed it now.

  “Let’s go,” whispered an urgent voice.

  Kiriana turned to see Nal’drin reach out to grab her by the arm, and motion for her to follow. Past him, she saw the others gesturing for her to hurry. She didn’t resist, and allowed him to pull her away. Soon they were across the street and climbing the steps of the building. She paused only long enough to read the sign, which was surprisingly written in both dwarven and the common language. It read, “Harvest Moon”.

  Nal’drin urged Kiriana through the open doorway, and he scuttled in behind her. All six of the companions huddled into the abandoned tavern just as the ward’s effects began to fade. They fought to catch their breath as they crowded around the two windows that looked out upon the busy street.

  “We’re trapped,” said Kiriana.

  “What now?” asked Sharka.

  Nal’drin looked back at the old dwarf king and said, “I’m sure you’ve got something up your sleeve, right?”

  Duroc looked through the window. He looked up the street in one direction, and laid eyes on the goblin encampment sprawled before them.

  “Baffingbauld’s balls,” cursed Duroc.

  “Those rat-men, what did you call them?” asked Theros.

  Duroc said, “Mahlzur, they are the mahlzur.”

  “You said you could still command some of them,” stated Theros.

  Duroc shook his head. “Not really. I can try to influence them; it may work on a small number, but it’s not enough to clean up that mess.”

  The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of the orc’s lips and he said, “I’ll take it.”

  Seeing the confusion on the faces of the others, Duroc said, “We just better hope that my estimates are correct, any more than that and they’d kill all the goblins.”

  Nal’drin gave him a confused look and asked, “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

  “Not exactly,” muttered Duroc.

  “What do you mean?” asked Sharka.

  “Let’s just say it’d be a good idea to put some distance between us and them—and quickly,” said Duroc.

  “So your creations aren’t just out of your control, they actually want to kill you? Great.” quipped Kiriana.

  Duroc shrugged. “Yeah, apparently even the undead hate being turned into slaves. Who’d a known?”

  Duroc was too intently focused on the goblin camps in the streets beyond to notice the accusing glares that followed his remark. Instead he was busy studying the force laid out before them. Summoning the mahlzur might not seem like the best choice, and it would bear consequences, but at the moment, it seemed like their only option; besides, they were coming one way or another. Duroc nodded as if he had finally convinced himself of his course of action, then he set to the task.

  “Hold on tight, boys and girls, it’s time to stir up a little trouble,” said Duroc.

  “They are already coming, what are you doing?” asked Dominar.

  “They’ve a certain... anger to them. I’m just going to redirect it a bit.”

  Dominar said, “Aneri’On help us.”

  The strange words flew from Duroc’s lips, “Bahnu mahlzur.”

  The magic was released, and like a rushing wave the Qarii raced out and away through the cavern like the light of a rising sun. The flashing signal touched every part of the shadowed room with its green tinge.

  The whooshing resonance that followed gave Sharka an eerie chill. She didn’t like the idea of having anything to do with those wretched creatures, but there was one thing that Sharka had learn
ed of late—sometimes unsavory alliances are the only thing that will keep you alive. She didn’t trust this Duroc character, but she would stay right by his side no matter what. After all, what better place to be if she needed to slit his throat?

  As the magic incantation rippled throughout the dwarven ruins, Sharka closed her eyes and offered up a prayer. Aneri’On, should he try to stab us in the back, let my blades find his first. Her eyes sprang open, but it was another sense that was alerted. Sharka heard the low rasping cry in the distance. Duroc’s call had been answered, the mahlzur were coming.

  The shrieks and haunted howls of the misshapen creatures filled the streets of the subterranean streets. The goblins in the streets came to alert with a start. Thousands of pairs of dark yellow eyes searched about for the source of the sound. Confusion swelled within their ranks as they drew arms and spun this way and that. Goblin captains and lieutenants tried to wrestle away the control of the crowd, but fear and uncertainty won. The goblin forces failed to form cohesive lines on any front, and soon they’d pay for it.

  The tide of the mahlzur was a wave of undead servitude crashing through the fallen king’s streets. They screeched like banshees as they descended upon the goblins. A pit formed in Sharka’s stomach as she watched the gruesome affair. The knot grew tight and it wrung her out. She hated goblins as much as anyone, but the scene before her was disturbing.

  The flood of the horned rat-mens burst from the tunnel with an unmistakable ruthlessness, juxtaposed against a backdrop of cold indifference. They moved with tremendous speed, sinking steel and fangs into goblin flesh with animalistic brutality, yet their expressions remained blank. It seemed as if their hollowed eyes were moving with feverish urgency, seeking out victims. Their muscles twitched, and their blades bit—but their faces never changed. No rage, no fear, no joy, just nothing. The goblins fought back, but they fell in scores. Sharka was horrified.