Deathsworn Arc: 02 - The Verkreath Horror

by Martyn Stanley

  Brael seemed somewhat put out by this, but he kneeled in front of her and turned his back to her, pushing his chin down to his chest he pulled his matted hair out of the way revealing the shifting, swirling glyph tattooed onto his neck. At this point there was a tension in the air, brought on by a curiosity which had been brewing since Brael’s first mention of it, nearly a week past.

  When Elira moved, she did so in a laboured uncomfortable way, moving her solitary hand awkwardly and demonstrating a lack of balance as she manipulated the skin on the back of his neck, stretching it between her fingers to get a better view. The symbol writhed and shifted as if alive, but Eilra did not seem disturbed, she sat studying, waiting, calmly examining the glyph. When she began to speak the rest of the companions were almost holding their breath. Even Korhan, resting by the entrance to the dwelling turned his head, looking almost in wonder.

  “§ilimi§a, marar vor§, ilketh amra kjar§, voen§ia, §ilava, racha, §orthavicka §ila marl.”

  The glyph glowed softly for a moment and Brael twitched, while it glowed Elira repeated the phrase in reverse.

  “Lram ali§ akcivahtro§, ahcar, avali§, ai§neov, §rajk arma htekli, §rov raram, a§imili§.”

  Brael gasped, panting hard for a few seconds, groaning softly, as the swirling patterns of symbols faded. Part of the pattern was gone, the remainder was simple, the part of the curse which silenced Brael having been removed.

  Elira chuckled at him. “Well truthseeker, are you not going to reveal your findings to your companions? I am sure they are curious.”

  “No, I am not.”

  She raised an eyebrow, “I have given you access to your precious truth, why do you not share it?”

  “I cannot simply ‘share the truth’ one cannot impart decades of arcane research, and an entirely different perception of the world in one sentence. Even if I could, I would not - they are not ready.”

  She glared at him. “You expect ME to start spouting elements of the truth? To tear your companions perceptions of life, the world and reality apart? I will not, I will not be directly responsible for destroying any lives with the so called ‘truth’.”

  “And my sensitivity to magic?”

  “Hmmm, I should have to think about that. I do not know if I trust you, I do not even know if I wish to live, to leave this room. Do you know what horror’s I’ve been forced to witness? How much fortitude it takes for me not to break down into tears or start shrieking maddeningly with sadness?”

  Brael looked at her sadly, he hadn’t known her back in Durth Orza, his celebrity status meant he was known by many, that he had not known himself. She would have been beautiful in her day, but the stress of being held captive, watching her comrades killed, cooked and eaten, then her own body parts - knowing that the same macabre fate eventually awaited her... It had taken a clear toll on her, she looked drawn and haggard. If you looked carefully you could tell she should have had the appearance of a young woman, in human terms perhaps in her twenties. Her terrifying experience had left her looking twice that age, haunted and desperate.

  Vashni stepped closer. “Elira, you must make a decision, we cannot tarry here long. Do you want to live?”

  Saul groaned. “How are we even going to get her out of here? It’s not as if she can wal-”

  Votrex shrugged. “There’s not much of her left, if she wants to live, I shall carry her.”

  “And if we have to fight?”

  “If we can create a makeshift harness, so I can carry her on my back - it will keep my hands free.”

  The haggered face of Elira looked up, and brushed her matted, dirty hair out of her eyes. “I don’t think I want to live... End my life for me elf and have done with.”

  Brael glared at her. “No! I will not allow it! Too many lives have been lost because of the truth! Give me a chance! If I can regain access to my work - I believe I can restore you!”

  “How!?”

  He looked around shiftily, then paused as if in deep thought. “Look... This might sound difficult to understand and it might sound unlikely, but it is true. If I was in my laboratory I could prove it. We are all, all animals, peoples and plants - made up of very tiny things joined together. I call them units. Each of these units has a different function, they live, they die, they are renewed. Inside each unit is a centre, containing a long and complex code which contains all the instructions for creating every type of ‘unit’ within us. If I can finish decoding the instructions and find a way of synthesizing living tissue, as I did with the transmogrification spell - I can re-grow your limbs.”

  Saul raised an eyebrow. “Could you not use the spell we performed in Stra-”

  “Blood is special, it does not contain a centre with the coded instructions, it is a fairly simple structure compared to most units and is easy to synthesize. The units required to make ‘limbs’ are complex and contain the incredibly complex central code; there are also many, many different kinds of units in a limb, skin, bone, muscle, tendon and more.”

  Elira coughed weakly, and looked hopelessly at Brael. “You attempt to give me hope truthseeker, but you give me none... There are a lot of ‘ifs’ in your plan to help me. I shall live though; I would ask you to get what’s left of me out of this hell-hole. If we can make it to Cormaroth, maybe I’ll even restore your magic for you. Although, you should understand - the only reason I would allow you to try to restore me, is because I do not believe you can succeed and I would look forward to mocking you, over your failed attempts.”

  Brael’s face was a picture of sadness. “I would prefer that to watching you die here, now.”

  “Careful truthseeker, I might change my mind and ask for death simply to spite you, that is how bitterly I despise you.”

  Votrex grunted softly. “Hmmph, that’s settled at least then, we should move.”

  Escape from Beren’Gedt Holt

  After some rummaging through the debris Votrex had found a large leather backpack which was typically used by dwarves to carry tools and materials long distances, being more practical on these narrow staircases and bridges than any wheeled form of transport. With some careful cutting and use of whispers, to shape the material, they managed to fashion a harness so that Votrex could bear Elira out of the Holt.

  The pack was ready and after tightening the straps Votrex was waiting patiently for Elira to be deposited in it. The pack had been fashioned in such a way that she would face backwards, her head remaining free, and her remaining arm being free. When Brael had stepped forwards to help lift her in, she had snarled at him to keep his hands off her and therefore the task had to be undertaken by Saul, Vashni and the weakened Korhan. As it happened, an already malnutritioned gravian female, with only one of her four limbs did not weigh a great deal and Votrex, great was his strength felt no incumberance from having her at his back. As Vashni tightened the straps, and ensured she was secure and comfortable, Elira pointed at one of the dropped Verkreath blades and addressed Korhan. “Northlander, pass me one of these foul creatures weapons, if we are set upon I wish to be able to defend myself and perhaps take a few of them with me, if it comes to it. Only the Verkreath can harbour more of my hatred, than truthseeker.”

  Korhan, still not recovered from his fight with the Dagon - Ramon Hern, collected one of the rusty looking, short serrated blades and handed it to her, handle first. She took it with a firm grasp. he admired her fortitude, he considered that if he’d found himself in her situation he would have felt overwhelming despair and would have probably attempted to take his own life rather than watch his captors slowly devour his body parts in front of him.

  The horror of Elira’s situation and her hopeless tale did distance them from the recent memories of the plague ridden Strak, the Dagon, Ramon Hern, the murder of Callen, and the deaths of Harald and Silus. All in all the past couple of days had been a nightmare, for all in the companionship.

  As they prepared to leave Brael found himself having to attempt to maintain a distance from Votrex and
Elira, her scowls of hatred giving him fear that with a blade in her hand she might even try to take his life. It was useful having free access to ‘the truth’ again, but in many respects it might have been more useful to have his connection to ambient magic restored. Saul was an accomplished magician for a human, but his limits seemed to be reached frustratingly easily. As they prepared to move out Brael sidled up to Saul. “Wizard, are you spent? I fear we are likely to meet more Verkreath during this passage. Given the ferocity with which they fight and the difficulty we encountered dispatching one, which we caught by surprise, and two who were asleep - I would be reassured if you could tell me you were ready to cast some more spells.”

  Saul nodded, “I could muster a few offensive spells Brael, hopefully we shall not enount-”

  “A few offensive spells? Wizard, we may find ourselves greatly outnumbered, ‘a few offensive spells’ is better than nothing, but could you not cast a concealing spell to make our passage less easily detected?”

  “Alas, I do not know any such spells, those that I know of are beyond my ability.”

  “If only we had more time... If I could teach you to channel, store and prime, our passage could be significantly easier.”

  “Channel? Store? Prime? These are terms I am not familiar with.”

  “To Channel is to draw energy from other sources, to store is to bind magical energy into inanimate objects and arcane constructs, to prime is to prepare a large number of spells and charge them all ready for release, so that they can be released in quick succession.”

  “So, for example you could take the time to draw the energy, and transfer it into a ‘magic missile’ or ‘frost shard’ and then unleash them rapidly without having to re-cast?”

  “More or less...”

  Vashni, having finished helping Korhan to make Elira comfortable in her harness, had wandered over and caught the conversation with her sharp hearing. “The feats you speak of are impressive Brael, I’ve heard of these things, but you speak of them so casually, as if they are simple skills that can be mastered by any with a connection to the winds of magic.”

  “I concede they are not, they would be useful though.”

  “I can conceal my presence better than any of the group; perhaps I should sneak ahead and try to ascertain what stands in our way.”

  Saul nodded to her. “Do it, but be careful Vashni.”

  As she approached the macabre curtain of dwarf skin her gait changed and she moved silently, barely displacing the air. Korhan was finishing checking over Elira, making sure she was secure, comfortable and could wield her blade. “How does that feel? Are you comfortable?”

  “No, I am not ‘comfortable’ as you put it. I have been carved up and forced to watch foul vermin devour my body piece by piece, and I am now about to make an undignified exit from this foul place on the back of a dwarf, no offence master dwarf. I could not describe this as ‘comfortable’ though, do not mistake my bitterness, I am grateful to be leaving this place by any means, rather than to remain here for eternity as a pile of dry, gnawed bones. So thank you Korhan, and Votrex.”

  Korhan smiled, she was beautiful, or had been. Beyond her pained looks and the visible scars of extreme psychological stress he could see that she would have challenged Vashni for her strange, almost alien beauty. She didn’t smile back; she remained stoic, flexing her blade-arm, as if testing it for function after a long period of not being used.

  Korhan walked to Saul. “Where has Vashni gone?”

  “She’s gone to scout ahead, she can move silently and has the best chance of seeing what we’re up against without being spotted.”

  Korhan’s face changed, a mask of worry and concern falling on him. The image that had flashed before his mind was Vashni bearing the fate of becoming ‘living larder’ and then the rest of their group. One thing seemed clear, it was better to fight to the death when facing Verkreath than to surrender your weapon.

  Vashni reappeared, sweeping the dwarf skin curtain aside and stepping into the dwelling.

  She entered the ransacked accommodation silently before heading straight to Votrex. She leaned down to him, to get her face closer to his level. “Votrex, what route do you think we must take to leave Beren’Gedt Holt on the correct route to Cormaroth?”

  Votrex stroked his beard in deep thought. “Hmmm, I believe we should try to make our way up to the second or third balcony. The floor level will only lead to passages going deeper, closer to Verkreath infested levels or the underdeep. We should be able to get where we wish to go withou-”

  “Votrex, I have peered around the corner. There are fires, there are Verkreath, and they are great in number. Maybe not infested, not to the level that this place was - but I would venture there are over a hundred individuals, occupying accommodation on the chasm floor.”

  Votrex shuddered, his face suddenly turning very grim, Saul and Korhan joined him. Korhan shook his head. “More living larder?”

  Vashni shrugged. “Hard to say Ri§ine, possibly, possibly not - if there are, I fear we are not in a position to help them.”

  Saul shook his head. “Alas, if there are, we cannot help them. We are five, Votrex is encumbered, Korhan still not recovered from his duel with Ramon Hern. If we attempt to take on this horde we will die.”

  Korah looked wistfully towards the exit, his hand dropping subconsciously onto the handle harbinger. It was clearly an opportunity to die a heroic death, guaranteeing a seat at Ishar’s table. Brael noticed his forlorn look and interpreted his thoughts accurately. He stepped close and dropped a hand on Korhan’s shoulder. “Avil, charging into battle against a horde of Verkreath would be suicide and suicide is not a heroic death.”

  Korhan frowned at him. “But if there’s living lar-”

  “If the numbers Vashni estimates are accurate, and I imagine they are - we in no position to help anyone. If it appears there are prisoners and we can free them without raising the alarm - then we shall, but I believe our only chance of leaving this place alive is to leave it undetected.”

  Vashni was at the portal. “Come, we should not linger. For whatever reason these wretches decided to take up residence away from the masses, their deaths will not remain unnoticed indefinitely. The sooner we are leaving Beren’Gedt Holt the better.”

  Votrex, with Elira on his back moved to go first. “I should take the lead, try to move silently, and stay close to the chasm wall, stay in the shadows.”

  He brushed the dwarf skin curtain aside, with a twinge of disgust and the others filed out after him. Elira for her part looked strange fastened to the back of Votrex, but her circumstances were in one respect useful, it meant she was constantly watching behind them. Brael and Saul followed Votrex. As they left the dwelling, Brael pointed up towards the glowing orbs, on end of stalactites which cast the dim glow throughout the holt. “Saul, look at those. I suspect there is rune magic preventing them from falling. If the Verkreath are about the chasm floor, it might be worth using a spell break and a spell to send one of those falling onto them; it could take a few of them out and buy us some time.”

  Saul screwed his face up. “I’ve heard of spell breaking but-”

  Brael sighed exasperated. “You’ve never cast a spell-break? Forget what I said then, try to be prepared to unleash some offensive magic at the very least.”

  With that he turned and scurried silently after Votrex, though when Elira scowled at him he slowed and allowed Saul to take up position between Elira and himself. He was clearly frustrated with Saul’s lack of ability. Bending and shaping magic was a difficult skill, which took decades to master, and humans tended not to have to time to do it in their short lives. For a human, Saul was as competent as any wizard, but his skill was minimal compared to that of centuries old gravian or elvish wizards.

  Korhan and Vashni were the last to leave. As they prepared to leave, Korhan shook his head at Elira’s shoulder and upper arm, now charred and burnt on the dwarvish grill. The resonating whisper Vashni had administ
ered to him in Briem was still strong and the sight of the meat cooking, particularly that it was the meat of a still living, once beautiful gravian maiden made his stomach want to turn inside out. He turned to Vashni. “The Verkreath are foul creatures indeed to do this to anoth-”

  “Hmmph! Well, it’s similar to what your species does isn’t it? You feed your livestock and slaughter them for meat. You desire meat, so you feed your livestock up on things you don’t enjoy, so you can kill them and eat their flesh.”

  “This is different.”

  “That is true, to eat sentient beings, is vile on another level, but don’t distance your species too far from the Verkreath. They are by any of the other sentient species reckoning, evil incarnate - but they are not evil by their own standards I’m sure.”

  Korhan pulled the macabre curtain aside and gestured for Vashni to pass first. He followed her into the gloom, on the one hand glad to be leaving the scene of such depravity, but also sad to be leaving the warm glow of the rune-lights to enter the eerie, blue-ish, dim light of the Holt.

  Votrex by this stage was nearing the corner around which the stalk of the ‘T’ shaped chasm extended. He peered around slowly. In the distance he could see fires burning, and beings moving around. It was hard to make out in the dim light at this distance, even with Votrex’s keen eyesight, but they had to be Verkreath. He rounded the corner, feeling his heart start to beat a little faster as he did. He could hear the others sneaking along behind him. As he drew nearer to the fires he weighed his axe in his hands, adjusting his grip and trying to loosen up his shoulders. There was a staircase running up their side of the chasm, and it was before the main Verkreath camp, but it was closer to their position than he would have liked.