Hunting The Three
The Barrier War Trilogy
Book 1
A Novel of the Pandemonium War
By
Brian J. Moses
Text Copyright © 2012 Brian J. Moses
All Rights Reserved
The Pandemonium War
The Barrier War Trilogy
Book 1 – Hunting The Three
Book 2 – The Devil’s Deuce
Book 3 – Satan’s Gambit
The Demonic Jihad Trilogy
Book 1 – Demon’s Wager
(forthcoming)
See www.pandemoniumwar.com
for previews and updates,
plus chapter-by-chapter
author’s commentary on each book.
Other books by Brian J. Moses
The Karola Stone
For my wife. Beautiful in every way.
For Moreen. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.
and
Special thanks to the team at
www.damonza.com
for the cover art.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Map
Prelude
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Interlude
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Interlude
Appendix A
Appendix B
Author's Note
Introduction
The following account was compiled as part of an effort to explain the events before, during, and immediately following the Barrier War. Whatever limitations exist and whatever liberties have been taken with the story are solely the responsibility of the author of this historical account.
These volumes are written in the human tongue so that all those in Heaven might read and understand, not just the immortal angels. Translations into the dwarven and elven languages will soon be completed, but notations have been made so that a reader of any race will understand the meaning of these words.
Let the truth be told as a shield against a reoccurrence of the tragedies that made possible this tale. Let all remember the sacrifices made herein.
Vander Wayland
Heavenly Historian
Map
Prelude
One cannot go against the will of God. This leads to two possible conclusions: either God wills everything exactly as it happens, or else God wills nothing and men forge their own fates and lives. Both prospects are equally disturbing.
- Orange Paladin Oneth de’Weiden,
“A Question of Fate” (967 AM)
- 1 -
“I read now from the past.[1]
“‘And thus it was on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of the Age of Merging that the doom foretold so long ago, the prophecy that spelled the end of the Age of Lords, at last came upon our mortal world.[2] The shining waters of the oceans boiled, poisoning thousands with suddenly noxious fumes; the very foundations of the earth trembled, toppling mountains and destroying homes and lives alike with equal fervor; the skies blackened at the very apex of the sun, turning noon into night in an instant.
“‘In the heavens above, the opposing moons, Sin and San, aligned themselves in the sky as never before in the history of man and formed the dreaded Devil’s Horns[3], announcing the coming of the demonic hordes. On that day, Hell came to Lokka.’
“Memorable words from yesterday that speak to us now today.
“For we stand now, brothers, more than a thousand years after that fateful day, to discuss the implications of more timely events. The astrologers have foretold that yet another such day of import is rapidly descending upon us, and for this we must be prepared. Fear not, my brothers, for the date which looms before us is not yet another day of apocalypse and mayhem, but rather a day that could give salvation to us all.
“The day I speak of comes with the advent of yet another celestial alignment, though this, or so the astrologers have assured me, shall be inclined towards the purity of Heaven, rather than the putrid depths of Hell. One year from today, the lunar formation known as the Angel’s Wings, which the astronomers have been predicting for decades, is at last upon us. This, too, is an unprecedented event in the records of human history, and we stand upon the brink of perhaps regaining the mortal realm for ourselves!
“I speak not merely of breaking Hell’s hold on our world, but of ridding it of those races most foul that have so plagued humankind these many centuries. We shall at last drive the gnomes and dwarves from their caves, the elves from their forests, and most certainly the denarae, the vilest of them all, from their existence among us. Mankind’s world will once more become the home of men and only men, and we shall exile these less worthy races from this plane of existence.
“Rejoice with me, then, my brothers, as we stand upon the threshold of the dawning of a new Age. Rejoice and prepare, for we must be ready. Rejoice!”
- 2 -
“I don’t know what any of us really expected to happen that day.[4] I mean, seriously, how many people believe in that mystical mumbo jumbo the gazers, er… I mean the astrologers, spout at us? It’s a whole lot of useless theatrics, if you ask me.
“‘Repent and die at peace.’ ‘The sky is falling.’ Junk like that, you know?
“For years we’d been hearing about some sort of great event that was supposed to happen soon, something to do with the flapping moons. But then, they’ve been saying crap like that for years, haven’t they? How were any of us expected to filter out the important stuff from the rest of the hysterical garbage? I don’t think we could have.
“Now, I suppose you could call me a religious man – I go to temple, pray, make sure the kids learn their lessons and are brought up right. God’s sake, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who isn’t religious deep down, at least in that city. I mean, how can you help but believe in a higher power when you’re only a mile or so away from the Merging? Standing on the walls of the city, you’re literally the gateway into Hell. Pretty damn tough, I’d say. Sure, maybe the elves and dwarves have different beliefs than us, but they still believe in God, I think. Even the damn denarae do. How can you not?
“Religious or not, I have to say even I didn’t pay much heed when the priests suddenly added their voices to those of the gazers. Not at first, anyway. I figured maybe the panic had just spread, but enough people start screaming about something and a man begins to wonder.
“I don’t know whether it was because of that or not, but I ordered my men to be especially on their edge that day. Like they weren’t already. I had this strange feeling in my gut, you know? Sort of like a nest of snakes slithering around in my belly. A bunch of other guys said they felt the same, and some even traded out to get replacements for the day. I still don’t know whether I’m glad or not that I decided not to join ‘em.
“I
guess it was right about noon or so when it happened.
“Now, we were all pretty used to the comings and goings of paladins, it being the Barrier and all. I’ve seen members of every Facet that exists; ‘cept when I saw one of the Whites it’s just the goings, ya see? If one of them came to the Barrier one day, I knew I’d never see him again. I don’t know what it is about those poor souls that makes ‘em do it, but … well, I guess maybe I’ll never know. Anyway, usually the only time we saw the Whites was as they went through the gates. I don’t mind saying that every time I had to open a pair of those gates, my heart went a little faster just knowing that we were opening a hole in the only wall that protects the rest of the world. Then off they went, marching into Hell.
“So, yeah, we were all used to the comings and goings of paladins, at least within the city. As far as being on the Barrier goes, I suppose we saw more than our fair share of paladins up there. We saw the Whites on their way out, and we saw members from the other colors who would just come up to the top of the Barrier to stare out toward the Merging, often watching one of the Whites depart. Once the poor bastard was out of sight, the paladins would leave the wall and go back to the city. They knew he wasn’t coming back, same as me.
“But on that day, there were dozens, maybe hundreds of paladins from every Facet lining the walls, their cloaks rustling faintly in the wind in a riot of color. They damn near filled the battlements where I stood, and I was worried someone might get himself pushed over the edge. But no one fell, and no one said a flapping word about crowding.
“There was this deathly silence, like the whole world was one big stage just waiting for the curtain to rise. The wind died, and not a man made a sound; we all stood there in a silence so heavy my ears began to ring. I never heard quiet that was that damn loud. Then I saw it.
“There was a shadowy shape coming into sight in the distance, but you’d be hard-pressed to discern more than a vague figure half hidden by the heat waves rising from the plain. As it got closer, we could see that it had two legs and walked upright, but at that point it stopped looking human. Where the arms should have been, we could only make out a strange bulge on each side. It wasn’t until a few breathless minutes later we could tell that it actually was a man, but that he was holding something tucked under each arm. He finally came into focus, and a sigh went up through the ranks of the paladins.
“I didn’t know it yet, but they had already recognized one of their own.
“The man wore what had once been a full suit of armor, but I could see there were parts missing. Several of the larger pieces, the breastplate included, bore tremendous rents in the metal, as if some monstrous claw had torn right through the steel like so much paper. Come to think of it, that’s probably exactly what happened. A few shreds of a tattered cloak hung behind him, its once white color blackened by his unknown ordeal of horror. At his side hung a sword, though I never got a good look at it. He carried no shield. Where there should have been a helmet, instead there was a head of ragged, black hair. His face was overgrown by a mass of tangled hair that twisted away from his chin as though writhing in agony, and his skin was pale like he’d never seen the light of day.
“The man walked slowly, steering himself through a haze of pain and exhaustion obvious to every eye that beheld him, but he somehow managed to keep a straight line. He staggered toward the center-most gate of the Barrier, his movements as deliberate as his course. When he was just a couple of hundred yards out, he collapsed, and his bundles went sprawling into the dust before him. One of them moved around like it was alive, but the other lay limp and motionless, as did the man.
“He lay there for a while, and half-heard mutters went up throughout the ranks of the paladins, undoubtedly trying to decide what to do. I thought they should have gone out to help him, but then protocol says we don’t open the gates for anything coming from that side of the Barrier, and I suppose that’s as good a rule as any in this world.
“Finally the man pushed himself to his knees, his movements suggesting that he’d performed just this operation many times over. His head hung down, not even looking what he was doing, his wild hair obscuring his face. Almost as though his body was acting on its own, he crawled to where his twin bundles had fallen, going first to the moving one. He spent a moment crouched over it, and then he carefully gathered it up under his right arm. He then reached out and lifted the other, which I finally decided was just a tall sack when he slung it over his shoulder. With a determination that was so powerful I could damn near feel it, he got his feet beneath him and stood. Then he resumed his slow progress toward the gates.
“It wasn’t until he was maybe a hundred feet out that the paladins on the wall began to react. In less time than I could count to ten, the wall was suddenly empty of the holy warriors, and I was left staring dumbly at the vacant space where they had been so recently. It was then I heard and felt a heavy grinding, and I looked over the wall to see that the gates were being opened. A procession of what must have been more than fifty[5] paladins made their way forward in two lines, and they marched out until they had connected a path between the stranger and the safety of the gates.
“Still, no one had spoken a single word since the wild paladin had come into view.
“The man stumbled and fell to his knees once more, and two or three paladins made as if to help him to his feet. I don’t know if he spoke then, but I saw his head turn once toward each of them and they backed off. Under his own strength, the man pushed himself to his feet and continued forward.
“Now I’m a man of duty, and I’d never left my post in my life, but nothing short of a full invasion from Hell could have kept me on that wall in that instant, and I rushed down to the streets. By now, word was spreading through the city of what was happening, and a tremendous crowd had gathered. With all those people, you’d think it would have been noisier than a dwarven tavern, but no. The silence from the wall had fallen to the streets below, and there wasn’t a whisper throughout the entire damn city.
“I pushed my way nearly to the front of the crowd, staying close to the wall just in case something did happen. The strange man was just clearing the gates when I arrived, and he staggered forward a couple dozen more steps before stopping. He was standing only a few feet from the White Stone.[6] The two lines of paladins had followed him into the city and had already begun to create a path through the crowds and, as the last two entered the city, the gates boomed shut.
“Almost as if that sound was a signal of some sort, the stranger slumped to his knees and let his bundles fall to the ground beside him; I couldn’t see over the head of the guard in front of me and couldn’t tell what those bundles really were, but I clearly saw and heard what happened next. The man reached forward and touched the Stone, then he cried out, his voice containing a strength that belied his weakened body. His words practically burned their way into my mind, never to be forgotten.
“‘Mephistopheles, I have beaten thee. I am free, and thou shalt never again claim me.’
“Then he collapsed face-first onto the ground.
“The silence the followed his words was deafening. An entire city stood in mute shock at the challenge we’d just heard, a challenge that was immediately answered. The ground shook with the force of ten earthquakes, and to a man we all fell to our knees. The earth rumbled and it was as though we were hearing the tremendous bellow of some demonic force beneath us. Yet through it all, not one man, woman, or child screamed. Nor did a single rock shift place, nor building fall. When it was over, there was no sign to indicate that the terrible quake had ever happened. We heard later that people right outside the city hadn’t noticed a thing. Not a damn thing.
“Two things happened that day which had never before occurred within the history of mankind, the first of which was that special arrangement of the moons that the gazers had been in such a tizzy about. But however significant, the alignment of the moons paled in comparison to what we’d all just seen. For a thousand years, pal
adin after paladin has gone on their way, white cloaks gleaming as they journeyed across the Merging into the depths of Hell on some holy crusade.
“On that day, one of them finally came back.”
Chapter 1
The myriad races have their own ideas of progress and happiness. Gnomes continually try to better their lives through invention and technological advancement. Elves turn inward to seek enlightenment and self-identity. Dwarves enjoy the sparkle of a gem, the glow of a forge fire, and the taste of a well-brewed ale. Humans are forever searching for a higher power to give their lives meaning. And at this point, the denarae seem content simply to exist.
- Orange Paladin Karm Brighton,
“The Turning Millennium” (999 AM)
- 1 -
“Too much cayenne!” the gnome said hoarsely, his voice filling the void of silence that followed every explosion. His voice dissolved into a fit of harsh coughing. “Too much cayenne!”
The strained voice came from somewhere amidst a dense cloud of reddish smoke mixed with dark gray ash that stank of charred meat. Danner sped through the small house, pushing himself off the walls as he raced down the hallway in alarm. Sadly, he’d had considerable practice rushing toward similar emergencies caused by his friend – he was wearing thin spots on the walls where he placed his hands.
“Still using too much cayenne!” The gnome’s voice was typical of his kind: the high pitch of an adolescent mixed with the gravelly tone of great age, resulting in a combination that most humans found highly amusing. A favorite pastime of humans too far gone in their drink was to stagger toward the nearest gnome and ask him a question, and then laugh uproariously as the answer was delivered in the serious tones in which most gnomes spoke.
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 1
