Og-Grim-Dog and the Dark Lord

by Jamie Edmundson

  Grim didn’t stop, running at the door and twisting at the last moment, so that his hip and Dog’s shoulder slammed into it. The door gave way and he stumbled into the room. Og’s shoulder guard was struck heavily by a weapon and Grim found himself tottering over, unable to get his feet under him. He crashed into the wooden stand in the centre of the room and fell to the floor.

  Og managed to get the palm of his hand onto the floor and push up, allowing Grim to get to his feet. He sensed figures moving around him. As his brothers re-armed, he focused on two combats: Assata fought against the armoured knight, trading blows against his sword and shield; while Gurin fended off a short spear wielded by a lanky human, who was likely the ranger Brother Kane had mentioned. The man’s reach was much longer than the dwarf’s, and Gurin was being forced backwards to the far wall.

  Grim took a step forward to intervene, when Dog let out a warning bark. Spinning around, he saw a small human form darting away from Dog’s mace. The thief, Grim supposed—no doubt he had pick-locked their way into the room. In both hands he gripped a crystal sword. The Dark Lord’s bane.

  In the corner of the room there was a fourth intruder. The cowl of his cloak covered his face, but Grim recognised him, nonetheless. Brother Kane.

  A thud sounded behind them and this time Og shouted out a warning. Grim turned to see Assata sprawled on the floor. By the looks of it, she’d taken a blow from the metal clad knight’s shield rather than his sword. Og lashed out with his pike. The knight’s smooth mail deflected the blow, but at least it diverted the warrior’s attention to them, and away from the prone barbarian.

  Grim knew they were in trouble. His allies had rapidly been taken out of the fight and he and his brothers would struggle if outnumbered.

  The knight came at them, his shield pushing aside Og’s pike. He side-stepped Dog’s swinging mace and then his sword twisted in, Grim unable to avoid it as it pierced his chest mail and sank into muscle. Grim retreated, pulling free of the sword, though his back muscles tensed in anticipation of the crystal sword stabbing in from behind.

  Instead, the sound of a struggle could be heard. Risking a glance, he saw that Brother Kane had one arm around the thief’s neck. In his opposite hand the cleric held a thin dagger—the thief’s grip about his wrist preventing him from using it. The man’s other hand was trying to wrench free of Brother Kane’s hold on him. The crystal sword now lay on the floor.

  It seemed that everyone noticed the sword at the same time. A rush of bodies converged on the space, the adventurers from the Bureau desperate to regain the weapon, the Dark Lord’s servants equally desperate to prevent them.

  The knight came for Og-Grim-Dog again. This time, Og used his pike as a defensive staff, keeping him at arm’s length. The knight’s sword-strike was met by Dog’s mace. Ordinarily, a blow from that mace would break an arm. The knight’s armour no doubt absorbed some of the damage, but still he lost his grip on his sword, his visored helmet watching it sail across the room, out of reach.

  But just as Grim took a step towards his opponent, thinking he had the upper hand, an almighty force slammed him away. He wobbled, somehow staying on his feet, as he spied a spear protruding from Og’s shoulder. His brother dropped his pike, then cried out in agony as Dog ripped the spear out.

  Grim looked up to see their assailant. The ranger held the crystal sword. Behind him, Gurin was sat against the wall, face pale, his hands clutched about his belly where dark red blood pumped from a wound. Nearby, Brother Kane cowered on the floor beside the thief’s body, whose head was almost completely detached from his shoulders.

  ‘Go!’ the ranger shouted, and he and the knight ran for the exit to the room.

  ‘After them!’ said Brother Kane. ‘I’ll tend to the fallen.’

  Grim chased after the two adventurers. The knight was already in the corridor. Behind him, the ranger found his legs taken from him as Assata kicked out from her position on the floor. Moving too fast to right himself, the ranger went down, the crystal sword leaving his grip and skittering across the floor. Turning at the noise, the knight reached down to grab the sword. For a moment he looked at Og-Grim-Dog bearing down on them and obviously decided his friend was lost, because he turned back to the corridor and ran.

  Dog’s mace came down on the ranger’s head as Grim ran past. There was only the knight left, now. But he held the weapon that could kill the Dark Lord, and despite his heavy armour, and for all Grim tried, the knight was faster, too. Og’s spear wound was stealing his stamina—his breathing heavy now, and his legs aquiver.

  The knight stopped at a door along the corridor. Barging it open, he charged inside.

  Following behind, Grim felt a shiver of apprehension. He had no idea where the Dark Lord was—but the knight seemed to. Grim reached the door and entered the room.

  It looked like he was too late. The Dark Lord faced the knight—his own, dark metallic sword against the rose-coloured crystal. The contest played out as Grim tried to reach them. The Dark Lord reached forwards, but his blade was too high, and it was easy for the knight to get down on one knee and sink the crystal sword point-first into the Dark Lord’s midriff.

  Only then did Grim get Dog within range, his brother connecting with the knight’s helmet in a brutal backhand swipe that sent him crashing to the floor.

  The Dark Lord clutched at the crystal blade and sank to his knees. He looked up at Og-Grim-Dog.

  And then he laughed.

  ‘A clever trick, don’t you think?’ he said between chuckles.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Grim.

  ‘There is no bane,’ he said, sliding the crystal out of his body with a gasp of pain. ‘Just a ruse to distract them from their real task. It worked quite well, no?’

  Grim had to admit it had worked, though he couldn’t help feeling that he and his brothers had been deceived, too.

  ‘I hope you will forgive me,’ said the Dark Lord, perhaps sensing the feelings of his henchman. ‘But for such a ruse to work, everyone has to believe it. Not even Lilith knew. Now, I do hope Brother Kane survived the confrontation. Even though it’s no bane, this weapon does leave a bit of a sting.’

  Brother Kane’s ministrations worked wonders. Even Gurin, whose injury would normally have taken his life, was set fair to make a full recovery within a few days. Grim was sure that Og’s spear wound would have left him with a permanent disability without the cleric’s attentions. Assata was back on her feet with no harm done and Simba was told to rest until his concussion had worn off.

  All of which meant that the attack from the Bureau’s adventurers, which had seemed so dangerous, had only cost the lives of around a hundred menials. Despite the Dark Lord’s outward show of grief over these losses, no-one seriously thought it amounted to much of a loss. While the henchmen had dealt with the intruders upstairs, Lilith had won her battle with the enchantress and her charmed menials—the woman was dead by the time Grim had staggered down the stairs to investigate the scene.

  In the end, however, the attack from the Bureau resulted in one more loss from Fell Towers. Assata called a meeting of her old friends. Brother Kane insisted it be held in Gurin’s chamber, since the dwarf was not allowed to leave his bed yet.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ said the barbarian in her direct way. ‘I was going to go anyway, after the wedding, but I can’t stay here now. Do none of you feel even a shred of dishonour at slaughtering adventurers from Mer Khazer? It wasn’t long ago that they were your colleagues, after all. It could have been any one of us who had come here.’

  Grim really wasn’t sure what he thought anymore. He knew that one of his brothers felt the same way as Assata and that the other didn’t. He was caught in the middle, as ever.

  ‘Oh, spare us the shame game,’ Gurin retorted, propped up in his bed. ‘You know very well that the Bureau has driven the likes of me and Og-Grim-Dog out. Where were these ‘colleagues’ of ours when we needed their support? What did they expect might become of us?’

&nb
sp; ‘None of which makes what you are doing right. I know I regret my own actions.’ Assata turned to Brother Kane with a dark look. ‘And all the time you were a member of our dungeoneering party, you were secretly serving someone else. You would have betrayed every one of us if you’d been ordered to.’

  Brother Kane gave Assata a beatific smile. ‘Accept a blessing—’ he began, fumbling for his vial of holy water.

  Assata slapped at his hands. ‘Spare me that fake act. You saved my life in Deepwood Dungeon. Were it not for that debt, I would be sorely tempted to strike you down right now. But this warning goes for all of you. By serving the Dark Lord you’re willing to kill any of your former friends if ordered to do so. Know this. If we find ourselves on opposite sides in the future, I will be just as ready to do the same to you.’

  With that, Assata left Fell Towers. Og held his tongue and stayed, though Grim knew he would have chosen to go with her.

  A part of Grim felt the same way. But Assata had the Bureau and the Resistance. She belonged elsewhere. Og-Grim-Dog didn’t belong anywhere but here.

  A Face in the Flames

  Everyone at Fell Towers was now counting down the days to the wedding. The Dark Lord had a spring in his step. Princess Borte seemed increasingly quiet, perhaps resigned to her fate. Grim knew that she didn’t want to be the wife of the Dark Lord. But he thought getting the wedding over with might actually do her good. She’d leave her cell in the basement behind, and become the Dark Lady.

  Gurin’s prolonged convalescence meant that Og-Grim-Dog had taken on some of the dwarf’s duties as head of security. They frequently patrolled the walls of Fell Towers, keeping an eye on things. The attempt by the Bureau to stop the wedding had failed, but there was still the possibility that agents of the Kuthenian Empire might attempt to rescue the princess. And, the truth was, they had little faith in the menials to defend the stronghold without some help.

  It was on one of their rounds, about the time afternoon turned into evening, that Dog caught sight of two figures leaving the stronghold via the postern gate.

  ‘That’s not the Dark Lord,’ he commented, pointing down.

  Indeed, they were used to seeing the Dark Lord using the gate for his cliffside walks. But not anyone else. From their vantage point, it wasn’t hard to tell who it was. The first, even though she wore a drab looking cloak with the hood up, had the unmistakeable shapely figure of a woman; the other, long white hair that caught in the breeze.

  ‘Mistress Lilith and Simba,’ Og confirmed. ‘I wonder where they are off to at this time?’

  ‘And why they didn’t mention they were going somewhere,’ Grim added.

  ‘They might have told Gurin,’ Dog suggested, unwilling to cast aspersions. Nothing had been said, as such, but even Dog must have picked up on Og’s disaffection with Fell Towers, and Grim’s ambivalence.

  ‘I think Gurin would have said something,’ said Og. ‘I am more than a little curious about what they are up to.’

  An idea came to Grim. ‘What about Raya’s amulet?’ he suggested.

  Their friend, Raya the elf, had given them her magic amulet when they had been investigating the attack on the village of Urlay. An Amulet of Hiding, it made its wearer both invisible and silent. Very useful to a three-headed ogre who didn’t want to draw attention to themselves.

  ‘I don’t know if we should be spying on them,’ said Dog. ‘It feels a bit disloyal.’

  ‘Disloyal to whom?’ asked Og slyly. ‘Maybe the Dark Lord ought to know what they’re up to?’

  ‘I don’t see the harm,’ added Grim. ‘After all, we can’t be seen or heard, can we?’

  ‘Alright then,’ said Dog, knowing he was outvoted.

  Og-Grim-Dog descended from the battlements to the rear of Fell Towers. Two menials were on guard at the postern gate.

  ‘They’ve only just left,’ one offered as they opened the gate for them.

  ‘Good,’ Grim said. ‘Hopefully we’ll catch them.’

  Their task was made easier since the cliff walk was the only path available in this area. Everywhere else was steep, treacherous looking rock—the terrain giving Fell Towers its defensive strength as much as its walls and battlements. The salty tang of the sea air filled Grim’s nostrils as he passed the spot where they had first met the Dark Lord. Once they were far enough away from the stronghold that prying eyes could no longer see them, Dog put on Raya’s amulet. It was an odd kind of magic, because nothing changed as far as Grim could tell. He could see and hear his feet clomping along the path just the same; could see Og’s pike swinging on the left and could hear Dog’s stomach rumbling on the right. And yet, when they had worn the amulet in Mer Khazer and on their journey back from Urlay, they had been entirely invisible and silent to everyone else. They had to assume that the object still worked, since they knew nothing of magic.

  After a long walk, the cliff path began taking them down to the beach, while to their right it opened onto a barren land of rocky bumps and dips. It made their task more difficult, since there were now more places that Lilith and Simba could have gone, and they had still seen no sign of them. Grim was beginning to think they simply weren’t going to find them.

  ‘Up there,’ said Dog, pointing to a nearby hill.

  Grim could just make out a faint flickering of light on the crest of the rocky mound. He shrugged. ‘There’s no other sign of life around here, and even if that’s not them, it might afford us a view of the area.’

  He headed for the hill, the ground steadily rising. The sun was beginning to set now and there was orange and pink in the sky as Grim began his ascent. He was breathing heavily by the time he approached the hilltop. He made no attempt to quieten his approach, trusting in the device around his brother’s neck.

  Suddenly, Simba was above them, looking down the hill. His eyes scanned past Og-Grim-Dog, looking in their direction, but not seeing them.

  ‘Hello Simba,’ Dog called up.

  Grim gave his brother a stern look.

  ‘What? I was just testing that the amulet worked.’

  ‘Well be careful,’ Og reprimanded. ‘Dark elves have strange powers. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sensed our approach, even if he can’t see or hear us.’

  ‘Then there is Mistress Lilith,’ added Grim. ‘She has powers, too.’

  ‘What powers?’ Dog asked, much quieter now.

  ‘I’m not sure. There’s something about her, though. Something more than human. And don’t forget she defeated the enchantress during the attack on Fell Towers. She has magic, I’m telling you.’

  Above them, Simba seemed to have satisfied himself that there were no intruders and retreated from the edge of the hilltop, allowing Grim to take the last few strides to the top. It was unusually flat and in its centre was a circle of half a dozen standing stones. Inside the circle was Lilith. She stood by a fire and Grim could hear her speaking into it. Its flames flickered with strange colours: blues and greens were mixed in with the oranges and yellows, and in the gathering darkness, it cast an eerie light.

  ‘We need to get closer,’ Og whispered.

  Grim could see Simba patrolling on the opposite side of the stones. Gathering himself, he moved into the stone circle, only stopping when he was behind and slightly to the side of Lilith. From this position, all three brothers could look into the flames of the fire. All three could see the face that rippled in the flames, of the man that Lilith spoke with.

  A handsome, human face looked out from the fire, though Grim couldn’t help but notice that he had the same dark eyes as Lilith.

  ‘Barclay has failed us, then,’ the man said.

  Barclay, Grim thought to himself. There’s a name I have heard before, though I can’t recall where.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Lilith. ‘But he wasn’t to know about the Dark Lord’s ruse with the sword of Samir Durg. For all his idiocy, Jonty has a certain base cunning about him. I’m still uncertain about the depth of his powers and daren’t challenge him alone. We are so close,
now, but I still fear a setback if we get careless.’

  ‘You worry too much, Lilith. Anyway, the Bureau was just one of our plans. Even if it would have been the simpler option, we still have our main hand to play.’

  The Bureau? That’s it, Grim told himself. Barclay is the Director of the Bureau of Dungeoneering, the man who had ensured they were exiled from Mer Khazer. What was his connection to Lilith and this man in the flames? It sounded like they were all allies in some secret plot.

  ‘You must arrive here in three days’ time, Samael,’ said Lilith. ‘No sooner or later. That is the day of the wedding and everyone will be distracted by the festivities, the Dark Lord most of all. I will ensure that the resistance here is minimal.’

  ‘The Kuthenians are weak creatures,’ the man Lilith had named Samael said with a sneer. ‘But I will get them to Fell Towers in time, have no doubt. Three days and it is done.’

  Grim began to back away from Lilith and her fire. He had heard enough, and if her unnatural conversation ended, he feared she might become more aware of her surroundings—might sense their presence. He already had suspicions that she was a magic user, but now it appeared that she was more powerful than he had imagined.

  He left the stone circle behind, reached the edge of the hilltop and began the descent, moving as quickly as he dared.

  ‘Well, that was interesting,’ said Og with ironic understatement. ‘Lilith a traitor? Kuthenians coming to Fell Towers? Even the Bureau is involved.’

  ‘I have to admit,’ said Dog, ‘it was worth a visit. It seems like Simba is loyal to Mistress Lilith rather than the Dark Lord, too.’

  ‘The question is,’ said Grim, navigating his way down the hillside, ‘what do we do about it?’

  Wedding Crashers

  The next day, in the privacy of their room in the basement of Fell Towers, Og-Grim-Dog went back and forth over their options.

  ‘There’s no doubt in my mind,’ said Grim, ‘that Lilith intends to remove, almost certainly kill, the Dark Lord. She and her friend Samael made that clear enough. Why exactly, we can be less sure. What we also don’t know is what that all means for us.’