by Nic Weissman
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Erion wondered who these people were. He could not see his client anywhere, and there seemed to be no one else in the camp. Observing the man, the boy and the elf, he could not help think that he was in front of a group of competitor adventurers. Was this some kind of test? Would they have to overcome the other group somehow in order to win the contract? His client had never submitted them to a situation of that kind. Although he did remember one occasion where a different contractor had summoned several groups in an abandoned quarry to fight, and decide who would be his “service” provider. Mithir and he had abandoned the quarry when they realized what was happening. He hoped this was not a similar situation. The elf who they were waiting for was, at present, the one who gave them the best commissions.
Suddenly, before they could start any conversation, the elf took the bow from her back and put it together in the fastest movement he ever remembered seeing from an archer. However the girl wasn't aiming at them, but at the other end of the clearing.
“Take cover!” the elf cried as she fired.
The arrow crossed the hundred steps that separated them from the end of the clearing in less than a sigh. All heads turned in that direction and then they saw ... the horror. A huge spider ran towards them at high speed. Also considering the size of its legs, the terrible creature was the size of a small horse. It was completely black, hairy. Its head was covered with thousands of eyes, and had two powerful jaws that folded and stretched endlessly. Its fangs pointed down, ready to inject venom. Even at this distance they could perceive its foul odor.
The arrow stuck right in the monster's head. But the spider did not stop. It advanced towards them at breakneck speed. In these frantic moments a lot of things happened at once. The man who looked like a knight, who apparently was the leader of another group, ran a few steps back toward the camp tents. There was a falconry hawk there and he removed its cap. The animal flew immediately. The knight picked up a long sword that was in a rack next to the tents, with other weapons and equipment.
Erion and Mithir's horses considerably reared in the presence of the creature; they turned and trotted into the woods, the same way they had come. Mithir reached for his small brown leather bag and after taking a few reagents, invoked again the spell of the spheres, which they used against the wolves that very morning. It was a spell called magic missile, as he once had explained to his brother. The magic missiles always reached their target, although they weren't extremely powerful. Again, the four orange spheres rapidly crossed the clearing in strange trajectories and hit the monster in the head. The spider paused just a moment, and then continued the race to them.
Erion was lucky to have been able to get his crossbow that was hanging from the saddle just before his horse fled. As he turned to his horse, he felt a chill even greater than when he saw the spider appearing on the north side of the clearing. Two other monstrous spiders were approaching from the southeast. They were very similar to the first, equally terrible and disgusting, although one was a little larger than the others.
While this was happening, the elf armed her bow and fired again at the first spider in the head. Erion saw how she tightened her bow to the maximum. That girl had an amazing hand. The spider fell this time, apparently dead. Erion pitched his crossbow and shot one of the spiders that had entered from the southeast. The arrow hit its shell. But it was so hard that it bounced out without digging or causing significant damage.
The young man from the other group began to sing a song. It was similar to some he had heard as a child in the temple. After a moment, a strange circle of about ten steps across appeared on the ground around the young man. The circle was formed with a strange yellow light, like if thousands of tiny fireflies had been perched on the grass in a perfect geometry.
“Come in!” he cried watching them very seriously.
Mithir ran and with five or six strides entered the circle with Erion after him.
It was then when they saw the hawk again, which swooped down on one of the spiders, digging its claws into its eyes and taking flight again. The spider just paused, looked up and resumed its pace. The elf, who took less time to fix her bow than the time it took Erion in saying kingdom of Bor, shot and hit one of the spiders, again in the head. A green viscous liquid poured from the wound caused by the arrow, but this did not make it stop.
Mithir began performing another spell. It was a new spell that he had recently learned. He had not yet mastered it and had already had a couple of accidents with it. But the magician knew it was time to take some risks. A yellow and deep red ball, from which small flares flowed, was ejected at high speed and exploded violently upon reaching the spiders. A large black circle was drawn on the ground, completely burning the grass in that area. Both monsters shouted with a horrible, disturbing screech. One of them sprouted some small flames for a moment. The stench of the beasts now mingled in the air with a terrible plague of decay. But both spiders continued. The one wounded by the arrow seemed to move a little slower, however.
Erion fired his crossbow again and this time hit the wounded monster in its head. The creature stopped and, after a while, fell dead. The knight and the young man moved, brandishing their weapons, a long sword and mace respectively, and placed themselves at the end of the circle waiting for the arrival of the spider that remained. It was only a few steps away from the group and seemed ready to avenge its comrades. It was the biggest spider.
The prodigious archer armed her bow again but before she could fire, something happened that Erion didn't expect. The spider bent its abdomen slightly at an odd angle, orienting it to the group and a strange white substance was thrown at them. The substance exploded, forming a million thin white threads, completely covering the elf and Mithir. It was like a giant spider web. None of them could move. The spider had also caught the young man. One of his legs had been almost completely covered by those infernal threads. It seemed he could move the rest of his body, and even use his mace, but he couldn't move. He hit the web with his mace, but the threads seemed tough and also had some elasticity. After a couple of attempts, he failed to break free.
Erion drew his short sword and headed for the young man. The edge of the blade maybe could do a better job against that spider web. He thought a moment about Mithir, but he and the elf were so thickly covered by that swarm of threads, that it was obvious that it would take a while to free them. It seemed more effective to help the young man. As he walked toward him, sword drawn, the knight seemed to understand his intentions because he nodded gratefully as he raised his long sword. Then he lunged against the monster, leaving the protection of the circle and, a moment later, he dealt a powerful blow, breaking one of its huge paws. The spider was limping, but still moving briskly on its remaining seven legs.
Erion slammed the threads that held the young man's leg. In the first attempt, he just ripped a few. He kept hitting as hard as he could and repeatedly, and very slowly, the filaments began to ease. He bent to continue cutting the filaments that now covered only the young man's knee. It was then that when he had a new and unpleasant surprise. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back. A fourth spider had crept through the tents and approached him. It had entered the clearing through the back of the camp, and with so much confusion, no one had seen it.
The poison flowed quickly from the fangs of the spider, and Erion fell to the ground. His face was pale. He did not lose consciousness, but he couldn't move a muscle. The monster walked without stepping on him, and moved towards the young man, who at that time only had a foot immobilized. Erion could closely see the horrible creature. The stench it gave off was hard to describe. If he hadn't been paralyzed, he would have probably vomited with nausea. The shell hairs seemed more horrible at that distance. And its head, with the thousands of eyes, fangs still dripping poison and its jaws moving incessantly ... If he survived, he didn't think he could see a spider in the same way again. Spider hit the boy a few times with one leg, who could not keep his balance an
d fell. Erion felt tremendously frustrated to see the entire scene and not be able to do anything.
Meanwhile, the knight kept fighting the other spider. The monster hit him with its legs and he nearly fell. But after, he launched a powerful strike, breaking another of the spider's front legs. Although the creature was still moving deftly over its six legs, its head was far more exposed. It was easier to approach it. The knight knew what he was doing.
After his last stroke, the knight had let his guard down slightly and the spider, enraged, stepped towards him, lifting its fangs. But before it could reach him, the man raised his sword again in a lightning movement and nailed it between the jaws of the animal. The spider moved with spasms, furious, while the knight roared with the effort of trying to prevent the creature from making him drop the weapon. He stopped for a moment, regained his strength and then dug the sword even deeper, through the monster's head, which finally fell lifeless.
The last spider pounced on the fallen young man. And when it seemed that everything was going to end, the young man began to sing another song. The spider's legs furiously went down upon him, but an invisible force prevented them to touch him, by barely a few fingers. The young man continued to sing, very concentrated. His eyes were closed and apparently he couldn't do anything else. Erion understood that this was some sort of spell, but of a different nature than Mithir's. The boy had to be a cleric. The yellow circle, which had already vanished, had to have been another of his spells: probably a protective magic.
While the spider, who did not understand what was happening, was trying to hit the cleric, the knight came from behind and, after picking up the mace that was left on the floor, hit the monster in one of its fangs. The impact was so strong that the tusk broke and the poison jet fell everywhere on the ground. The monster turned and retreated. Spiders ran faster than men, and the knight knew he could not reach it. He picked up the crossbow that was close to Erion, cocked it and shot the animal, which had almost reached the edge of the clearing. The shot missed, and the spider got lost in the woods.
“Ithelas, I think it is over,” Erion heard the knight saying. “Check the young man, while I try to free Samar and the other young one.”
Ithelas stopped his song, stood up, took a backpack that was in the camp and went to Erion. He pulled a small package from his bag and took some herbs, which he placed in the mouth of the young man while singing a concentrated whisper.
At the same time, the knight picked up an ax that was in the gun rack and began launching powerful strikes against the web. Erion saw that the knight managed to cut the threads much faster than him. But even at that rate, it would take an hour.
After a minute, Ithelas stopped his murmuring. Erion was beginning to feel somewhat better, but he still couldn't move. That's when he saw Mithir's gestures.
“Fire! Apply fire on the spider web!” the young man begged.
Although Mithir was completely immobilized, the knight had cut the threads enough so Mithir could move his head and hands again. Erion reproduced his words with great effort.
“But they will get burnt!” the knight replied.
“This spider web will burn very quickly. It is quite flammable. We may get burnt a little, but nothing major. No severe burns,” Mithir clarified.
The man looked at the elf, and then at Mithir, hesitating, not knowing what to do.
“Trust me. I know what I'm doing,” the magician said with his gestures.
The knight took one of the burning logs from the campfire by one of its ends, being careful not to burn himself, and ignited one of the web's corners. The threads began to burn rapidly, and within seconds, the fire spread throughout the web. In an instant, the filaments were consumed, freeing Mithir and the elf. Mithir's shirt caught fire by a sleeve, but with a few quick blows, the magician managed to extinguish the small fire.
Erion began to feel his toes again. He felt he could move them, but the rest of his body was as stiff as a board. The others approached him and raised him to bring him close to the fire. Ithelas gave him a strange brew to drink. Erion felt comforting warmth. Just a few minutes later he had recovered his mobility, but he still felt dizzy and had a terrible headache.
Mithir fetched the horses, which hadn't gone far. Samar accompanied him. In the next moment, they all briefly described who they were, but nothing too deep: their name, where they lived, what they did and how they got there. Erion obviously didn't detail part of his occupations. He explained that he was a merchant who occasionally accepted jobs to earn extra gold, and that his brother helped him and always went with him.
A lone figure stepped into the clearing. Samar, Ithelas and Thost immediately got up, taking their weapons. Erion also got up and raised his hand.
“There's no danger,” he told them.
The figure was an elf, totally dressed in black. His dark skin, and the fact that there was not plenty of light in the sky that night, made hard to distinguish his features. But Erion knew who he was. When he arrived at the fire, where they were, everyone could see his face and his disturbing red eyes. He was a dark elf.
“Who are you?” Thost asked.
“His name is Phoroz, and it is he who seems to have brought us all here tonight,” Erion clarified.
“True,” the elf confirmed. “I see you've finished off my welcoming committee without major consequences.”
That completely surprised Erion. Although this character was gloomy, he had never played them a trick like that. Although, on second thought, he hadn't had many opportunities to do so. This was the third time they saw him.
Phoroz's surprising statement infuriated Thost and Samar. Thost lowered his weapon when Erion asked him to, but did not release its handle at any time. It was obvious he did not trust that character. Thost took two steps forward, standing just a few fingers away from the dark elf.
“What do you propose? Speak!” the knight demanded.
“What I have already told you all. I have an assignment for you. The reward is excellent. I have to warn you that it is a dangerous mission and therefore I have summoned you all. Separately, either group wouldn't stand a chance on a mission like this.”
“What is it exactly?” Erion asked, angrily. “But before, speak. Why this trap? Those monsters could have killed us!”
“I had to make sure that this group was equal to the mission. This is an important order that my master has made,” the elf explained.
That infuriated the group even more. Erion certainly was not satisfied with the explanation.
“And who is your master?” Samar asked.
“That does not concern you,” Phoroz said.
“I remember that at our first meeting, you mentioned that you lived in Deepcliff. Your master is probably a figure of the court or any of the rich based in the capital,” Mithir explained by gestures.
Before he could reproduce his words, Erion had yet another surprise. Phoroz began speaking with sign language, which almost no one knew, and told Mithir he had a very good memory, that he did not expect him to remember that, that he shouldn't have said it anyway, and that he was smart. But that if he repeated it again to anyone, including the rest of that group, he would cut his throat. Then he looked intently at Erion, to make him understand that this was also meant for him.
“In a remote place, to which you will arrive by means that I will provide, there is a castle. In it dwells a powerful undead, a vampire,” Phoroz continued.
Erion could see fear etched on the faces of all those present. Everyone had heard stories of vampires since childhood. They said they had become a terrible plague in the Duchies Carition long ago. Now it seemed that the number of attacks had reduced, but they kept happening without anyone being able to do anything about them.
“The castle holds an important treasure that the vampire had accumulated over centuries. You could keep everything you find there; everything except the object of our mission. Someplace in the building, he keeps a silver box that has an elaborate design of
a hill on its cover and a shield with a dragon on its sides.”
Phoroz paused and looked at the group.
“You must bring that box to me, intact. You must not open it, although you probably won't be able to, anyways.”
“You talked about an important reward,” Thost said.
“True. Each one of you will receive two hundred platinum coins, half of them now, and the other half when you deliver the box,” the elf explained while he handed Thost a bag.
“It's quite a sum; it must be a really dangerous mission,” Mithir reasoned through gestures, while Erion reproduced his words.
“It is. In addition to that reward, as I said before, you can keep whatever you find. But I warn you that, maybe, the smartest thing would be to get the box as quietly as possible and get out of there, leaving everything and everyone behind.”
“What do you mean?” Erion asked.
“The reward is one thousand platinum coins to be shared amongst those who return. Anyways, if the vampire manages to catch one of you, the best thing you can do is run.”
Ithelas snorted, uncomfortable.
“The castle is in a remote place and is hard to reach. Also, it is a very well-protected space. There is a path, through a cave, that will take you to the valley where the castle stands. You must have hiking gear. This map describes the valley and where you can find the entrance to the cave,” he explained, as he handed them a large parchment.
Phoroz then stepped closer to Mithir and kept talking.
“The castle is located in a remote country. You have to quickly prepare for the mission, and then travel there through a portal that will take you to the aforementioned place,” Phoroz explained, as he handed two other small scrolls to Mithir.
The group looked at the dark elf with a mixture of distrust, interest in the mission and fear of the dangers that would follow. Mithir was shocked. Only a very powerful spell could open a portal that could transport adventurers such a huge distance. Probably very few magicians in the World of Oris could do such a thing. The scrolls he held in his hand were probably very hard to find and extremely expensive.
“The second scroll opens another portal that will bring you back with the box. Don't try to come back without it. I ordered the scroll so the magic doesn't open the portal if you don't have the box with you. Any questions?” Phoroz asked.
That was a lot of information to process. But before anyone tried to say anything, Phoroz nodded, turned around and left. Before disappearing through the forest, the dark elf turned towards them one last time.
“I had forgotten a small detail. If you manage to get the box before midnight, four days from now, there will be five hundred more platinum coins waiting for you,” he explained, before completely disappearing.
Everyone in the group was tired. It had been a long, hard and very interesting day. They took shifts to keep watch during the night and went to rest in the camp tents.
“Tomorrow is another day,” Erion thought.
CHAPTER 9: THE ROYAL PALACE
