“Spirits tell me that the goblins made it to Chansuk, but the Chieftain did not take the news well,” Shaman Tukk reported. “Kelgarek seems unhappy with our delay. Also, there are murmurs that the Dark One grows impatient waiting for the prisoners Or something they might have with them? I cannot tell as the spirits are unclear in their manner.”
“We shall discuss this with the overlords then and devise a plan,” Grubb wisely ordered. “We may have to abandon our shelter and make our way through the storm in—” Grubb suddenly stopped talking and listened intently as he deciphered a low humming, which then ceased again without warning. “Did you hear that?”
“No,” Shaman Tukk answered. “I must reconvene with the spirits. They seemed concerned about something else, too.”
Overlords Tsor and Grank joined up with Grubb to discuss the issues while a pair of the intimidating ograthi stood close by in a protective manner. They had become the enforcers for the orc overlords of late, making sure that all of the goblins and orcs followed their orders without hesitation. The conversation died away and was replaced by a noticeable humming noise coming from within the cavern.
Suddenly, there was a blood-curdling scream from one of the orcs at the rear of the chamber. Grubb spun but could not see anything from where he stood since several formations of stalagmites blocked his line of sight to that end of the cavern.
“The treasure is alive!” cried a voice in the southernmost corner. Then there was another shout and a goblinoid screamed, “The coins are moving!” Shaman Tukk and Commander Grubb began trying to decipher what they meant.
Then Grubb recalled an ancient insect that was rumored to greatly resemble a coin. The bug, a flesh eater, had a glinting and burnished exoskeleton, if he recalled the lore correctly. This was why they had not seen them at first as they were lying dormant within the copper coins, blending in with them.
“Carrion swarm,” Shaman Tukk grimly informed the group, acknowledging what Grubb was thinking. The orcs looked at one another, slightly puzzled, collectively ignorant of such a creature. “The carrion swarm,” he reiterated. “This is the danger of which the spirit warned!”
Grubb breathed deeply as he quickly tried to devise a way to combat them. At that moment, his gaze fell on a member of his legion that was covered by the insects. The tiny goblin’s entire right side was being devoured by the swarm, right in front of his eyes. Within a few dozen heartbeats, there was almost no sign that the goblin had ever existed. Grubb rapidly concluded that conventional methods of fighting would not work against these insects.
The humming of the swarm mixed with the sounds of many screaming goblins and orcs creating a deadly cacophony that echoed within the chamber.
“Fight them with fire as steel’s edge will not discourage them!” Shaman Tukk yelled out to the masses that were scrambling about in a panic.
“Use fist?” Overlord Tsor asked as he brandished his sword and gazed at it with a confused look.
“No, not flesh, clubs and torches, fire or stick! Blades will not hurt them,” responded the shaman.
“They eat flesh and bone!” roared an orc that ran toward them, swinging wildly at the insects that were swarming around. They witnessed the death of the soldier as its bones were consumed, leaving only its armor, weapon and shield behind.
The group of leaders maneuvered themselves toward the rear of the room where the commotion had erupted, trying to get a better view. The humming grew louder as they neared the multitude of insects.
Overlord Nsobak, who had just recently achieved that status within the Bonemasher clan, was nearest one of the swarms that had attacked his troops. He pulled a torch off the wall and ran headlong toward the swarm, at the same time producing a specially-made oil flask from somewhere on his person. The orc overlord tossed the mixture directly into the center of the insects and then tossed the torch after it. The flames hit the flask and resulted in a rather large explosion, causing a cloud of fire and smoke to surround his immediate vicinity.
The resulting blaze killed a large portion of the swarm, but knocked Nsobak to the ground, burning him badly and dazing him in the process. Once sight returned to Grubb and the others, they saw that another swarm was beginning to overwhelm the overlord as he lay helpless from the blast. The treasure room soon echoed with the death throes of not only Nsobak, but several other goblins and orcs as well, who were all victims of these flesh-eating insects.
There were several orcs ablaze, mixed in with other orcs fighting with torches and anything else they could set fire to. Some even doused their clubs in oil to produce the necessary flames. The swarm looked like surrealistic clouds of flaming devastation, flying about in groups and attacking anything they could. Some of the swarm swept a pair of goblins off the ground, leaving only their armor and weapons in their wake.
Shaman Tukk gripped his staff tightly, moving close to the swarms now, and uttered an incantation. A mere heartbeat later, a large, twisted, flaming creature materialized. It looked to Shaman Tukk, who simply pointed at the carrion swarms and whispered something to it in another language that Grubb did not understand. The creature sped off immediately and hurled itself into a group of the insects, pounding and smashing at them, ignoring its own safety. The insects swarmed it over, burning themselves upon its exterior.
Both of the ograthi dropped their swords and scooped up a torch in one hand and a club in the other from fallen orcs. They waded into the fray, torches blazing and clubs swinging fearlessly at the insects, inspiring the goblins and orcs to do the same. The goblinoid mass overran the swarm with their torches and clubs, smashing and burning the insects as both the humming and the screaming diminished.
Overlords Tsor and Grank, the only two remaining, ran into the melee, lending moral support to the troops that may have had thoughts of retreating. The swarm continued to bear down on the goblinoids, but they pressed on, inspired by the overlords and the ograthi who joined in the battle.
Grubb watched the scene unfold, impressed that his force was so obedient and that they followed his commands without question. He turned suddenly to see Shaman Tukk’s bone staff pointed in his direction and a look of shock twisted his features.
“Move!” Tukk ordered him. Grubb obliged him, diving to the side awkwardly, not understanding what was happening. The orc commander was not a nimble creature by any means, and he hit the ground hard, his helm bouncing off the stone floor as he stumbled forward, a salvo of discord ringing in his skull as a result.
A loud and bright cone of fire shot forth, channeled through the shaman’s staff that completely fried the cloud of insects that had made its way to the commander’s rear flank. The shaman alertly perceived the glint of their metallic shells in the torchlight as they rushed toward him.
Grubb regained his footing and nodded his thanks to Tukk for saving his life. He shifted his helm back into place and rubbed a fresh abrasion on his forehead that was bleeding. He absently wiped the blood on his tunic that proudly displayed the Bonemasher icon, and tried to shake the cloudiness from his head.
Shaman Tukk nodded back an acknowledgement to Grubb, almost losing his own antlered helm in the process and lowering his staff once more. Grubb quickly regained his composure and he continued his supervision of the fight.
The tide of battle had shifted in the goblinoid’s favor as the carrion swarms were eventually incinerated and crushed into lifeless husks. Large shells of what remained were scattered all about the treasure in various states of disfigurement. The humming had stopped and the remaining goblinoids hurried to burn the remains.
Shaman Tukk’s flame spirit returned to his side, its ghostly, burning exterior swaying against the darkness, adding to its mystical nature. It stood silently next to the shaman, seeming to fade.
Most of the force had survived the attack, but some had been devoured by the flesh-eating insects, including the newly promoted Overlord Nsobak.
“I know now the source of the bones among the treasure. Based on the unlike ag
e of each sample I inspected, they were all results from previous victims of the swarm, which lay dormant in wait for new prey,” Shaman Tukk concluded, tapping one such bone with his staff as he spoke.
“Indeed,” Grubb responded as one of the large ograthi informed him of Overlord Nsobak’s death. His features betrayed no emotion and he continued to move about, searching the area to ensure that they were free of any further danger. “He died a warrior’s death,” Grubb remarked, removing his helm and continuing to survey their surroundings.
“I’ve done all I can do for the wounded,” Tukk declared to the commander. “Most the orcs and goblins injured were consumed, together with one of the ograthi.”
“Very well, Tukk. I am sure you did all you could,” the commander acknowledged. Grubb continued to peer around the room, looking out for more threats as the non-wounded resumed sorting through the treasure once more, slowly at first, obviously shaken by the flesh-eating insects.
Something occurred to Grubb just then. As Shaman Tukk explained the remains of past victims scattered about the room, he also mentioned that this place had once been be a temple of the demon lord, Thanatos. Tukk summoned several more spirits from the area, forcing them to converse with him.
Moments later, he confirmed what he had suspected. This chamber was an area in which to dispose of bodies—a primeval burial ground for the cultists of Thanatos. It made perfect sense to place victims in a room with swarms of flesh-eating insects to purge the flesh and bone, leaving behind only their possessions. It also explained why the room had accumulated so much wealth that remained intact. It all made sense now, he realized as Tukk continued to share his findings with Grubb.
“Clever,” Grubb admitted at the shrewdness of Tukk, for realizing it, and the cultists, for devising this horrifying burial chamber in the first place. Grubb sat on a smoothed section of rock near the far end of the room and allowed the shaman to tend his wound as he observed the goblinoids sort the treasure.
How nice it will be to finally leave this temple, he thought.
Orngoth had escaped the orcs, but lost track of where he was in the maze of corridors. He effectively knew that he’d gotten to the lower level of the temple for sure. He tried moving quietly through the halls, which was nearly impossible, even in his hides and furs, as his sheer size and weight burdened that effort. Nevertheless, he tried to stay to the shadows as much as possible. As far as he knew, they weren’t actively searching for him.
He did manage to avoid the patrols of goblinoids that wandered the halls occasionally as they spoke loudly and freely, warning him of their presence. The corridors were wide and most of the doors weren’t barred, and so he merely had to step inside of a room until they passed before emerging again.
After hours of searching, he’d found a group of goblinoids that had mentioned the name of Grubb—the orc commander who had his gem—which he wanted back! He decided to follow far behind the group, barely keeping them in sight, hoping that they could lead him to the commander.
A group of goblins that had lagged behind the main force, were whispering to each other, heading back toward him. Orngoth suspected they’d heard him, but was not sure. He moved his massive frame as quietly as he could to the nearest door, opened it and entered, almost crushing the rusted handle in his haste.
His darkvision, which allowed him to see clear shapes without much detail, uncovered nothing in the room other than a few rats scurrying along the outskirts of the floor. There was a bed that he could make out and a small alcove near it too, but he could not make out much other than that in the dark.
The two goblin voices grew louder as they drew closer to him. They were speaking in the goblin language, which was similar to the ogrish language he’d learned while with the Ironskulls.
“In here,” Orngoth heard distinctly in the goblin tongue on the other side of the door as it opened, allowing some light from the wall torches to creep in. He was behind the door, hiding as best he could and forcing the goblins to enter completely in order to see him.
Then he noticed the hefty form of a wolf-like creature enter the room and sniff about, growling in his direction. Its red eyes penetrated the darkness of the room quite markedly.
Worg!
The goblins brandished tiny swords in their hands and slammed the door shut in an attempt to trap whatever the worg had found in the room with them. One of them had an oil lamp dimly lit which it placed on the floor. Turning the key higher to brighten the room, the goblin revealed the massive bulk of the half-ogre. They gazed upon him, standing only as tall as his waist, and their expressions immediately displayed regret at slamming the door shut.
The worg leapt at Orngoth and he backhanded it with a ferocious swing, sending it tumbling across the room after catching it solidly in the face. The two goblins attempted to turn the knob to the door, but Orngoth leaned hard against it, slamming it shut again, and positioned himself between the door and the two frightened creatures. He also had the advantageous position of having them between him and the worg that was slowly getting back up.
The goblins swung their swords viciously and wildly at him, scoring a few minor cuts each. Orngoth grabbed one of the two goblins in his massive hand, squeezed its limbs together as he clenched his fist tightly, and tossed it hard into the onrushing worg, knocking them both to the floor. He then removed his club from upon his back and swung it at the goblin that had just opened another cut upon his left thigh.
Orngoth barely noticed as he connected with the club. Its bones were crushed loudly under the impact of that blow. The collision sent the goblin hurling through the air to land limply in a corner of the room, unconscious or worse.
The second goblin was still lying on the ground when the worg leapt at Orngoth, its teeth piercing the half-ogre’s skin on the right arm. He winced as it clamped down firmly. His left fist, however, came down on top of the worg’s back with a loud crack and with enough force to shatter bones. He continued with a series of powerful strikes with his free arm for good measure, over and over, until the beast no longer moved.
The remaining goblin made it to its feet, realizing it must fight past the half-ogre to get out. In a heroic if not futile attempt, it ran headlong at Orngoth with its sword out in what it must have construed as a ferocious attack. Orngoth snarled and waited for the goblin to get within reach, slapped the point of its weapon aside, grabbed it by its tiny neck, and with a simple flick of his wrist, snapped it in two.
Orngoth quickly flung the door open, tossed the limp goblin onto the ground behind him and headed off to where he had first encountered the goblinoid patrol in an attempt to catch up with them, but the sounds of heavy booted footsteps were no more.
He had lost them—for now.
Chapter 20
“It would be wise to leave the undead creatures outside of Ulthon, Zabalas,” Phaera advised. They had just gotten within sight of the entrance to Ulthon, the hidden and mythical city of the succubi, and Phaera was attempting to prepare them for their meeting with her mother. “We will be summoned to the Aspect’s chambers momentarily and these undead abominations will not be welcome.”
“As you wish,” Zabalas replied simply, appearing very ominous in his black plated armor. His helmet completely covered his face with no flesh visible beneath it. There was a pair of long, curving horns affixed to the top of the helm and another pair coming out of the left and right sides, thinner though, but shorter and with no curves.
Zabalas withdrew his sword and whispered something, causing violet flames to dance upon its wickedly shaped length. The outer edge had curves, depressions and sharp serrations all along it, even near the hilt, making the blade appear extremely vicious.
He spoke in a language that Megnus did not understand. The undead all around him fell to the ground one by one as if whatever impetus that guided them had left their bodies. Zabalas held his sword out in front of him and the blade seemed to utter a horrible wail. It was clear to the slagfell prince now that somehow, Zaba
las’s weapon was quite probably absorbing that force.
Megnus Bloodstone involuntarily flinched at seeing the weapon and rubbed his jaw once more where he’d been struck by the mighty warlord. He breathed deeply, averting his eyes from the scene, and awaiting instructions as to what to do next. He was not even sure if they were invited to the chambers of Aspect Nahemia to join Zabalas. He looked about and noticed the djinni, Prishnack, floating nearby, seemingly apathetic about everything taking place, as he always did. Megnus could only glimpse specks of red blinking in and out of sight that indicated where the djinni was.
Zabalas allowed the fire to dwindle and finally go out upon his wicked sword. He sheathed it and then turned to Megnus as if responding to his unspoken thoughts.
“You will all accompany me inside the chamber of the Sine enclave,” Zabalas stated flatly. Phaera was about to protest, but held her tongue, to Megnus’s delight. And so, he simply stood at the ready, waiting for Zabalas’s next instructions.
Phaera did not appreciate Megnus much on a personal level, and was not sure what her mother would think of the slagfell or the djinni, entering her chambers.
She was about to find out.
Phaera walked over to one of the Sine thralls, a strappingly built human male, who awaited her commands in the tunnel. “Tell Maldagan to open the portal,” she ordered the slave. He immediately moved off to deliver the message.
Any of Aspect Nahemia’s ‘daughters’ were able to control the thralls as they all used the same basic talent, which lasted over time the longer the victims were exposed to the succubus pheromone. There were several slaves mulling about the entrance and Phaera deliberately eyed an elven male.
“I have not fed in days,” she mentioned absently as she strode over to the elf, who stared blankly at her. She bent in low and kissed him, revealing her demonic side. She held the kiss for a long while and as she did, the elf seemed to waste away slowly. The longer she kissed, the more decrepit the elf appeared, until finally she pulled away from him and his withered, lifeless body plunged to the stone in a heap.
The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) Page 38
