“I guess we won't be going home anytime soon, Lord Angle,” whispered Dolan.
“Not for some time, I think.”
“When do you think them evildoers will leave us be so we can live like regular folks?”
“When I have killed them all; not before.”
GLOSSARY for gateway to nifleheim
PLACES
The Realms
Asgard: legendary home of the gods
Bifrost: mystical bridge between Asgard and Midgaard
Midgaard: the world of man
Lomion: a great kingdom of Midgaard
Nine Worlds, The: the nine worlds of creation
Nifleheim: the very hell of myth and legend
Vaeden: paradise, lost
Places Within The Kingdom Of Lomion
Dor Eotrus: fortress and lands ruled by House Eotrus, north of Lomion City
Odinhome, The: temple to Odin located in Dor Eotrus
Outer Dor, The: the town surrounding the fortress of Dor Eotrus. Also used generically as the name for any town surrounding a fortress.
Riker's Crossroads: village at the southern border of Eotrus lands
Vermion Forest: foreboding wood west of Dor Eotrus
Guymaog, Temple of: ruined temple located in the Vermion Forest.
Dor Lomion: fortress within Lomion City, ruled by House Harringgold
Dor Malvegil: fortress and lands ruled by House Malvegil, southeast of Lomion City on the west bank of the Grand Hudsar River
Doriath Forest: a large forested area south of Eotrus lands
Dover, City of: large city at Lomion's southeastern border
Dyvers: Lomerian city known for its quality metalworking
Kern, City of: a major Lomerian city east of Dor Eotrus.
Lomion City (aka Lomion): capital city of the Kingdom of Lomion
Tammanian Hall: high seat of government in Lomion; home of the High Council and the Council of Lords
Tower of the Arcane: high seat of wizardom; in Lomion City
Tarrows Hold: known for dwarves
Parts Foreign
Bourntown
Dead Fens, The: mix of fen, bog, and swampland on the east bank of the Hudsar River, south of Dor Malvegil
Ferd
Karthune Gorge: site of a famed battle involving the Eotrus
Kronar Mountains: foreboding mountain range that marks the northern border of the Kingdom of Lomion.
Lent
Minoc-by-the-Sea: coastal city
R’lyeh: a bastion for evil creatures; Sir Gabriel and Theta fought a great battle there in times past.
Saridden, City of
PEOPLE
Peoples
Dwarves, elves, gnomes, lugron, smallfolk, svarts
Volsungs: generic term for the primary people/tribes populating the Kingdom of Lomion.
Orders of Knighthood
Caradonians; Tyrians; Odions;
House Alder
Barusa of Alder is the Chancellor of the Kingdom of Lomion.
The Alders have long been rivals of the Eotrus.
House Eotrus (pronounced Eee-oh-tro`-sss). The Eotrus rule the fortress of Dor Eotrus, the Outer Dor (a town outside the fortress walls) and the surrounding lands for many leagues. Lord Eotrus is a vassal to the king of Lomion.
Aradon Eotrus, Lord: Patriarch of the House
Adolphus: a servant
August Eotrus, Lord: ancestor of Aradon (deceased)
Claradon Eotrus, Brother: (Clara-don) eldest son of Aradon, Caradonian Knight
Donnelin, Brother: House Cleric for the Eotrus
Ector Eotrus, Sir: third son of Aradon
Eleanor Malvegil Eotrus, Lady: wife of Aradon (deceased)
Gabriel Garn, Sir: House Weapons Master
Humphrey (Humph): Claradon's manservant
Jude Eotrus, Sir: second son of Aradon
Knights & Soldiers of the House: Sergeant Artol, Sir Paldor, Sir Glimador Malvegil, Sir Indigo; Captain Marzdan (watch captain of the gate); Sir Bilson; Baret; Gorned (a House guard); Sir Sarbek; Sir Bareddal of Hanok Keep; Sir Miden; Sir Worten; Sir Erendin of Forndin Manor; Sir Talbot; Sir Dalken; Sir Glimron;
Malcolm Eotrus: fourth son of Aradon
Ob A. Faz III: (Ahb A. Fahzz) Castellan and Master Scout of Dor Eotrus, a gnome
Sirear Eotrus, Lady: daughter of August Eotrus (deceased)
Stern: Master Ranger for House Eotrus.
Talbon, Par, of Montrose: House Wizard for the Eotrus.
Tanch Trinagal, Par: (Trin-ah-ghaal) of the Blue Tower; Son of Sinch;
House Harringgold
Harper Harringgold, Lord: Archduke of Lomion City; patriarch of the House; Lord of Dor Lomion
Grim Fischer: agent of Harper, a gnome
Marissa Harringgold: daughter of Harper
House Malvegil
Torbin Malvegil, Lord: Patriarch of the House; Lord of Dor Malvegil.
Landolyn, Lady: of House Adonael; Torbin's consort. Of part elven blood.
Eleanor Malvegil Eotrus: (deceased) Wife of Aradon Eotrus; sister of Torbin Malvegil.
Glimador Malvegil, Sir: son of Torbin, working in the service of House Eotrus.
House Tenzivel (the Royal House)
King Selrach Rothtonn Tenzivel III: His Royal Majesty: King of Lomion
Other Noble Houses of Lomion
House Tavermain; House Grondeer; House Dantrel; House Tarn
The gods (the Aesir)
Odin (the “all-father”); Thor, Heimdall; Tyr; Frig; Frey; Freya; Balder, Sif;
The Lords of Nifleheim
Azathoth: god worshipped by the Lords of Nifleheim and The Shadow League
Arioch; Bhaal; Hecate; Mortach
Korrgonn, Lord Gallis: son of Azathoth
Reskalan: demonic foot soldiers in service to the Lords of Nifleheim
Zymog: a reskalan
Others Of Note
Angle Theta, Lord: (Thay`-tah) (aka Thetan) knight-errant and nobleman from a far-off land beyond the sea.
Brondel, Sire: father of Sir Paldor of Dor Eotrus
Caradonian Knights: priestly order of knights
Dolan Silk: (Doe`-lin) Theta's manservant
Jaros, the Blood Lord: foe of Sir Gabriel Garn
Krisona, Demon-Queen: foe of Sir Gabriel Garn
McDuff the Mighty: a dwarf of many talents.
Myrdonians: royal Lomerian Knights
Pipkorn: (aka Rascatlan) former Grand Master of the Tower of the Arcane. A wizard.
Throng-Baz : an ancient people that used runic script
Valas Tearn: an assassin said to have slain a thousand men; foe of Sir Gabriel Garn
Valkyries: sword maidens of the gods. They choose worthy heroes slain in battle and conduct them to Valhalla.
Bestiary
Barrow Wight:
Reskalan: demonic foot soldiers in service to the Lords of Nifleheim
Tranteers: the lithe, speedy horses bred in Dover
Trolls: legendary bogeymen from the mountains
Wyrms or Fire Wyrms: dragon-like creatures
THINGS
Miscellany
Asgardian Daggers: legendary weapons created in the first age of Midgaard. They can harm creatures of Nifleheim.
Dargus Dal: Sir Gabriel's Asgardian dagger
Worfin Dal: "Lord's Dagger," Claradon's Asgardian dagger
Dor: a generic Lomerian word meaning “fortress”.
Dyvers Blades: finely crafted steel swords
Magus Mysterious: olden language of sorcery
Militus Mysterious: olden language of sorcery used by certain orders of knights
Ragnarok: prophesied battle between the Aesir and the Nifleites.
Yggdrasill: sacred tree that supports and/or connects the Nine Worlds
Combat Maneuvers, Techniques, and Styles
Dyvers’ thrusting maneuvers; the dwarvish overhand strikes; the cernian technique; the Sarnack maneuvers; Lengian cut and thrust style; Valusian thrust;
&nbs
p; THE FALLEN ANGLE
BY
GLENN G. THATER
A Tale from the Harbinger of Doom Saga
“How do you know these things? Who are you, Theta? Who are you really?”
— Ob to the Lord Angle Theta
PROLOGUE
I’ve got it,” said Theta as he recovered Sir Gabriel’s dagger, Dargus Dal, from an opening that he had made in the vast heap of stone rubble—the collapsed remains of the ancient Temple of Guymaog in the Vermion Forest. Only one night previous, that place had been a scene of otherworldly horror, wherein somehow opened a gateway to the nether realm of Nifleheim, the very hell of myth and legend. A great battle ensued between the knights of Dor Eotrus and the Nifleheim lords and their minions before the open gateway was sundered and forever held fast. The dead of both sides lay broken and strewn about the ruins, putrefying in the chill morning air.
With the gateway closed, the monstrous armies of Nifleheim were barred from entering the world of man and laying it to waste, but two of their dread lords had made it through to Midgaard and were on the loose—one, a skull-faced monster called Mortach, the other, Gallis Korrgonn, son of Azathoth. Through foul magic, Korrgonn possessed the body of Sir Gabriel Garn, greatest hero of the Kingdom of Lomion and weapons master of House Eotrus.
“Is it damaged?” said Dolan as he scooped black ichor (the remains of some creature of Nifleheim) from another hole into a wide-mouthed flask while holding his nose.
Theta held up the long dagger and closely examined it. “It is intact,” he said smiling. “Its edge, still keen; ‘tis truly a wonder. It’s good to hold an Asgardian dagger in my hand again; it has been long years.”
“I can’t believe you found both it and the shards of that orb thingy,” said Dolan. “That necklace sure comes in handy, it does,” he said, referring to the curiously bent and twisted ankh that hung from a chain about Theta’s neck. “How did it find them through all this stone? What is its magic?”
Theta shrugged.
“Are you ever going to tell me how it works?” said Dolan.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. What are we going to do about the wizard? He’s still spying on us from behind that rubble off to our left; must think we’re deaf and blind.”
“As noisy as he is, I smelled him first,” said Theta.
“As did I,” said Dolan. “He has got a weird stink about him.”
“It’s some kind of oil he smears in his hair,” said Theta. “That and his thumping about make him less stealthy than a thunderstorm.”
“Why do you figure he puts that stuff in his hair, anyways? Does he think women like it?”
“Wizards are a strange lot,” said Theta. “I don’t waste much thought on them. I grow tired of his lurking, so you had best invite him over.”
In a flash, Dolan's bow was in his hand, an arrow knocked and set to flight. The arrow buzzed through the air and struck the remnants of a stone column inches from Tanch's head, which set him reeling backward on his rump, screeching in alarm.
“Show yourself,” called out Theta.
“Don't shoot; it’s me,” yelled Tanch. “It’s just me, Par Tanch Trinagal,” he said as he stood up and stumbled forward.
They waved him over.
“Out for a stroll, wizard?” said Theta.
“I was just—I was—I wasn’t—I mean—I didn’t—”
“If he keeps babbling,” said Theta, “Shoot him between the eyes.”
“Aye, boss,” said Dolan as he raised his bow again, this time at point blank range. Tanch’s eyes went wide and then promptly glazed over and he fell backward in a feint.
Theta and Dolan both chuckled.
“Make sure the fool is alright,” said Theta, “and then let’s finish up here.”
Dolan moved to Tanch’s side and knelt, then froze, cocking his head to the side as if listening for something.
“Thetan,” said a strange womanly voice on the wind. The sound was drawn out and otherworldly, but what it said was distinct enough.
Dolan’s bow was back in his hand and he pivoted all around, searching for the speaker.
“Thetan,” said the woman on the wind again.
Theta was on his feet, his falchion in his left hand, his shield in his right. He crouched and turned this way and that, but could not find the source of the voice. As his eyes passed over Dolan, he noticed that his manservant looked odd, as if paralyzed or frozen in place. “Dolan,” he said sharply, but Dolan did not reply, nor did he move. Tanch too was stone still. “Dolan,” he shouted again, but to no avail.
Theta caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye, and turned toward it. A blur of cloth, perhaps a woman's shawl, passed behind a pile of rubble, though the pile was too narrow to conceal a person, and yet, whatever it was, was gone. The scent of flowers and springtime appeared in the air, though winter was fast approaching.
“Show yourself,” said Theta, menace in his voice.
“What have you done, Thetan?” said the wind. “What mischief have you wrought this time?”
Each time the voice spoke, it came from behind Theta, and when he spun toward it, he saw only the merest glimpse of a translucent gray fabric that trailed behind someone or some thing that moved too fast for his eyes to follow.
But Theta knew nothing moved too fast for him to see or for him to stop. His mouth dropped open; his brow furrowed in surprise. He pulled his sword and shield close, and crouched, all his energies poised to spring into action, to crush whatever threat that thing represented.
“Did you open the portal, Thetan? Did you open the gateway?” said the woman on the wind, her voice bittersweet. “Tell me; speak the truth; speak the truth.”
Theta stopped turning toward the voice, for there was no hope to catch it. Its speed was beyond him. He stood ready; all his senses heightened to their limits. He pulled his shield closer against his chest, close enough that his thumb grasped his ankh. When he touched it, it pulsed with eerie light. He called on that relic, as he had so many times afore, mouthing the secret words that empowered it. He commanded it to reveal whatever it was that taunted him.
“Your tokens hold no power over me,” said the wind.
And it spoke the truth, for the ankh failed Theta, though it had rarely failed him before. It was as if the speaker was invisible to the ankh, just as it was nigh invisible to Theta. Or was it even there at all? Was this all just some figment in Theta’s mind; madness come over him at last?
“Did you open the ever-barred door?” it said, its tone demanding an answer.
“No,” said Theta. “I closed the gateway to Nifleheim.”
Silence ruled the scene for several moments.
“Do you speak the truth, Thetan—you who they call the Prince of Lies?”
“I closed it.”
“So you say, but your heart and your mind are closed to me. I cannot see within them, just as I could not see within that temple the other night, though my eyes pierce all darkness throughout the world, and into the hearts and minds of all the world’s children.”
“Who are you?” said Theta.
“You have seen me before. Am I so easily forgotten?”
Theta’s eyes narrowed. “You were at R’lyeh.”
“There and elsewhere. I have watched you since the dawn of time,” said the voice, now from close behind Theta.
He spun, and there before him, mere inches away, was a tall woman, or some thing that took a woman’s shape. She was strangely insubstantial, for he saw clear through her, but then, as the moments passed, she became as solid, as real, as any woman he had ever known. Her skin was gray but smooth, without lines or blemishes; her hair, green as springtime's grass; her eyes, piercing blue like a mountain stream; her dress, gray and flowing and lithe; her features, young and beautiful beyond compare with curves to make any woman brim with envy; her voice, soft and melodic, but haunting.
“What do you want?” said Theta, holding back the swing of his fal
chion, perhaps for curiosity’s sake, or perhaps for something more, though she was now well within his range.
“I want you to keep safe the world,” said the woman. “As only you can.”
“That is all I have done for years beyond count.”
She put a gentle hand to Theta’s face and caressed his cheek. “I wish that to be true more than I can say. I need that to be true, for I foresee great calamities ahead. Midgaard will need your sword and your strength to weather what is coming or all may be lost. She needs you now, more than ever.”
The woman leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, gently at first, then stronger.
“Do not betray me, Thetan,” she said when she pulled away, though he could not be certain whether that was a plea or a threat. And then she was gone. She faded away to nothingness right before his eyes.
“What was that?” said Dolan. “That voice on the wind?”
“What?” said Tanch as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “What voice?”
Then from the east came the sounds of many horses and men.
“The Eotrus,” said Dolan. “They come to collect their dead.”
I
RIKER’S CROSSROADS
The old stone inn at Riker’s Crossroads was in a shambles: tables overturned, chairs and windows broken, the front doors torn off their hinges, blood spatter on walls and floor. Four armed men—three tall, the third shy of four feet—entered the place guided by the village elder. A few dejected villagers respectfully bowed their heads and offered solemn greetings to the new arrivals as they carted out smashed furniture and piled it out front for repair or disposal. A modest contingent of rugged soldiers equipped with gleaming armor, sword, and shield, stood watch outside, and surveyed the damage to the village.
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