Into The Abyss (Demons of Astlan)

by Langland, J.

  Class V: Arch-Demons

  Arch-Demons have not been openly seen on the planes of men for nearly a thousand years. If any wizard knows the name of a class V demon, it surely must be one of the most closely guarded secrets in existence. Only the greatest wizards from ancient times were capable of summoning these dread beings, and even they did so with the greatest of trepidation. Since so few have been seen, little is known of what these beings look like, other than they surely must be horrors beyond description.

  Class VI: Demon Princes

  Demon Princes have never been known to have been seen on the planes of men. They have only been described to wizards as the absolute rulers of the Abyss. The other demons hold these unspeakable beings in such fear and dread that not even the gravest of tortures and punishments has ever induced any demon to divulge the name of a class VI demon.

  A few unlucky beings in the last three millennia have reportedly managed, or been allowed to escape from unexpected visits to the Abyss where some have reported seeing the Unimaginably Hellish Palaces of these beings. The one or two who rumor states actually managed to see a Demon Prince were forever-after irrevocably insane. The power of such beings is incalculable but surely nearly rival to the lesser gods.

  It is believed that the primary reason that no Demon Princes travel to the planes of men is that their manifestation requires so much mana that the resultant disruption would alert the gods and their avatars. Such an alert would likely trigger confrontations that would not be beneficial to any parties.

  Chapter 32

  It had been a tense ride. Gastropé wasn't looking forward to his upcoming interview. Exador wasn't known for patience with people who failed him. Gastropé’s only hope was to try and convince the wizard that he, Gastropé, had not failed in his part and had been in fact continuing to do his job. Not that he thought he had an incredible chance of success, but it was all he had.

  The carpet finally came over the edge of the forest in sight of the school, or what should have been the school. Gastropé had to look twice. The force dome was gone, as was the school. In fact, as the carpet zoomed in closer and closer, it became apparent that there wasn't much of anything left. Where the school had been was a giant crater, or almost a crater. It would have been a big round crater with a diameter of about a twenty minute horse ride, except for the far side, where a peninsula of normal plain jutted into the crater.

  Within the crater, there was nothing. It looked like a barren grayish desert from the carpet's altitude. The peninsula had Exador's army camped upon it. But not the same army Gastropé had last seen. The army camped on the peninsula was literally the part of the army that had been camped on that piece of ground. The edges of the peninsula looked as if they'd been subjected to a great destructive fire. The center of the peninsula looked unharmed, physically. It did, however, look like a giant hospital zone though. What could have caused this sort of destruction?

  It must have been, Gastropé thought, that brilliant flash of light and windstorm he'd noticed at sunset. He hadn't paid it a whole lot of attention because he'd still been in shock from his encounter with the demon. At least, Gastropé thought, I'm not the only one who's failed to succeed. The problem was that it was Exador's failure. Gastropé had a bad feeling that any of Exador's own failures would simply cause him to look even more harshly at others'. Thus it was with great trepidation on Gastrope's part that the carpet landed with him and his two escorts.

  They led him, one in front, the other in back, through the tents of wounded and apparently sick people to a man in a major's uniform. "We found this guy, one Gastropé, wizard in our lord's service, on the mountain pass to Freehold. Apparently the only one of our people to survive an ambush, laid by us, on a refugee wagon train."

  The major looked Gastropé over hard and finally said, "Very well, hold him here. His Excellency will probably want to see him shortly." With that the man turned and went off to a large tent about four hundred feet away. Obviously the tent was Exador's current headquarters.

  It took several minutes, but eventually the major returned. "Bring him in." He motioned for Gastropé's escort to follow. Gastropé quickly began rehearsing the story he'd prepared on the few hours journey from where he'd been picked up.

  As the major reached the tent, a guard standing beside it opened a flap for the major to enter. The major ducked and went in. Gastropé's lead escort glanced back to make sure he was following and then went in himself. Gastrope' bowed his head and entered the tent of Exador, a slight prayer on his lips.

  His eyes had to adjust to the dark interior of the tent. He stood for a few moments getting his bearings, and had to be pushed forward by the soldier following him. The tent was lit by four glowing yellow globes suspended from the roof in each corner of the tent. The floor was covered in thick rich red Argonil Furs. At the far end of the tent was a large throne, positioned atop a raised platform and between two large glowing braziers.

  On the throne, leaning back in a slouched position was Exador. His right hand hanging over the edge of the throne and resting on the top of his famous war helm. The large helm was on the floor beside the throne. Exador's fingers were rhythmically tapping out a small beat of impatience. He was looking straight at Gastropé; his facial expression was that of studied nonchalance, but his eyes seemed to bore right into the depths of Gastrope's frightened soul.

  "What is your excuse?" Exador stated, rather than questioned, coming straight to the point.

  Gastropé gulped, audibly, and stammered, "Um, gracious lord, we...ah . . we did everything as you ordered, just like you instructed. We, uhm, we laid ambush along all the possible routes of exit and waited. We really didn't think it likely they'd come our way, but, but they did. So, we ambushed them, they had no warning. At first it went well, the fireballs took out several wagons. But..."

  "But you failed me anyway," Exador inserted impatiently, "why?"

  "Lord they apparently had loaded this caravan with all of their most powerful wizards, suddenly lighting began to fall amongst our men, and then one of their lead wizards caused the very plants around me to rise up and halt my spells. They tried to strangle me, naturally I used counter measures, but the enemy wizard was too strong, at first. Eventually I broke free, but by this time it was too late...I...stepped out into sight to get a better view, and lord..." Gastropé's face was pale with remembrance of the frightful scene.

  "Spit it out already...what did you see!"

  "Lord, all of our people...dead, horribly dead. Apparently Lenamare was with them, or something, they, somehow, in the heat of battle...well I don't know for sure...but..."

  "But what?...you are really beginning to try my patience." Exador said testily.

  Gastropé gathered himself together to make the unbelievable statement. "M'lord somehow they summoned an archdemon...at least fifth order or so, perhaps a demon prince...I don't know how...all I know, is that I had to once again use all of my power and knowledge to escape it relatively unharmed," Gastropé finished.

  Gastropé fidgeted nervously as Exador just stared at him thoughtfully. The room was silent, Exador had stopped tapping on his helmet and simply stared through Gastropé. It really made the young wizard nervous, it was as if Exador had temporarily decided he didn't exist.

  Eventually, Exador's eyes came back into focus, and he looked at Gastropé himself for a moment then looked around at his men. "Possible, unlikely but possible, they do have that type four running around, it could have been that." He looked at Gastropé, "Not a demon prince, or even an archdemon, you never would have escaped, I don't even see how you could have escaped from a type four. That, I find suspicious..."

  Gastrope turned even whiter, "M'lord I swear," he fell to his knees, "all that I've told you is true, I escaped using my skills and magic, it was all I could do, but I did." He really didn't like the tone of Exador's voice.

  Exador stared a moment longer, as if assessing Gastrope's sincerity, then said, "Be that as it may, you've still failed
me. I reward those who succeed, those who fail..."

  "Please lord, there was nothing we could do ...no normal mortal can stand up to a demon of that power, and I honestly admit that I'm not a good enough wizard to defeat one in combat...what could I have done to change things?" Tears were starting to come to Gastropé's eyes.

  Exador just looked at him sourly, "Take him to the prisoner tent; it’s empty at the moment. I'll decide what he'll be...later."

  The guards moved in and picked up Gastrope. He was too scared to protest; Exador's words...what he'll be...frightened him. He might be a corpse; he might be a mindless slave; he might be a frog; he might be a toadstool; he might be anything. Exador was notorious for his nasty shape change spells, and for killing people that failed him; there were just too many possibilities--all of them bad.

  ~

  As Gastropé was carried out, Exador turned to one of his higher ranking aides, "Send out a sufficient number of three's to try to intercept the remainder of that party, and bring them back here. Then hold them for me till I get back."

  "Back? M'lord?" the aid asked.

  "Back. Apparently Lenamare has somehow made it to Freehold and is petitioning against me, for invading his lands. I've got to go keep an eye on him, if he spills too much, all of my plans could be in jeopardy." The aide nodded sagely in agreement. Without saying anything more Exador stood up from his throne, and surveyed his tent. Satisfied that his lieutenants could probably manage what little was left of his army while he was away; he raised his hand in a casual gesture, making a few arcane gestures for show, and vanished.

  Chapter 33

  Damien leaned back in his chair perusing the missives recently delivered to him by couriers. Except for a harvest report from his steward, the messages were all from his friends in the border areas. All of which concerned an apparent disagreement between the wizards Exador and Lenamare. Which was precisely why Damien was so interested in the reports. Exador and Lenamare were bringing mutual complaints against each other before the council in three days. Damien, being an ever interested and attentive council member, was thus most interested in what was occurring between the two.

  Actually as a point of fact, while Damien was one of the more conscientious council members, he normally wouldn't have paid this much attention to the matter; or would not have if not for the rather unusual reports coming from the confrontation between the two wizards.

  Apparently, Exador had lain siege to Lenamare's castle on the premise of taking Lenamare's school. A rather worthless thing to do, but given the egos of the two wizards involved, not outside the realm of possibility.

  Lenamare had responded as everyone knew he would by tossing up his super wards around the castle. The wards were worthy of respect, even if Lenamare, in his insatiable demand for fawning compliments, did make their secret just a little bit too well known. When Exador tried to remove the wards, Lenamare apparently retaliated with a fourth order demon. Having a fourth order demon on hand was quite a feat, in and of itself, stupid and dangerous to use, but quite a feat.

  Anyway, despite Lenamare's wards and big demon, Exador somehow managed to push Lenamare to the limit. For some reason, apparently thinking his castle was a lost cause, Lenamare blew it up and took the vast majority of Exador's army with it.

  Another piece of incredible wizardry from Lenamare, thought Damien. Lenamare might almost be as good as he thinks he is, if he can pull stuff like that out of his hat, mused Damien. However, it still didn't make much sense. Why would Lenamare destroy the very thing he thought to save, apparently so casually. Further why would Exador go to so much trouble for a stupid little castle and some land. It just didn't add up.

  Damien relaxed in his chair thinking. The music from Antefalken's harp slowly relaxing some of the tension from reading the messages. Damien was in his quarters at Freehold, relaxing in his stuffed chair listening to his bard, Antefalken, play a collection of melodies from the Vargosite Empire, 600 years ago. Damien sat gently stroking his light beard and mustache, now and then brushing a dark golden lock of hair from before his eyes.

  The melodies temporarily diverting him, he once again noted the advantages of having a bard that could play music that no one else had heard in 400 years. Actually, his bard had other advantages. Maybe Antefalken could find something out about Lenamare's fourth order demon. No one had been aware that Lenamare had one. Perhaps Antefalken with his special connections could find something out.

  Damien looked over to Antefalken. Antefalken was perched with his small harp, sitting on the back of a sturdy chair, with his legs on the seat. The lap harp balanced on his thighs as he played. At first glance, Antefalken appeared to be a boy. Certainly in size and proportion he was about the size of a thin boy of about seven years. However his beard and moustache rather despoiled that image. Well, upon further thought, Damien decided that maybe the cat-like eyes or the small bat-wings on Antefalken's back didn't help the image much either.

  "Antefalken?" asked Damien, interrupting the flow of music.

  "Yes, m'lord?" the bard replied, still strumming, but more softly now.

  "You haven't by any chance, heard of any fourth order demons being enslaved recently have you?"

  "Fourth order?" the bard said with a puzzled expression. "No, I don't recall any such events. Of course I'm normally here in Astlan most of the time, so I do miss the court gossip."

  "Hmm. Next time you're back, if you could perhaps enquire. Lenamare has come up with a fourth order demon that he's been using in combat with Exador."

  "Using a fourth order demon in combat? My, my, isn't your friend Lenamare getting a little bit senile these days. Or is the end of the world coming and he's pulling out all the stops?" asked Antefalken.

  "Hardly the end of the world, or at least if it is, Exador and Lenamare haven't bothered to tell the rest of us. Not that they would mind you...but the thought would be nice. Anyway, for whatever reason, Lenamare's up to something so big that he's willing to use fourth order demons and waste his own castle in a rather incredible blast to try and take out Exador."

  "Hmm, well, if you won't be needing me tonight, I could return to the Abyss, dig up what I can at the Courts of Chaos. Anna Leri claims she's got to work all night to get a gown ready for Lady Beth, so she won't be able to make our usual rendezvous…

  “Normally, I'd find another lucky lass to share my bed, but it seems Anna Leri's told the other maids that I've got crabs to keep them from sleeping with me. Thus being out of luck, I'm free to do your bidding."

  "Thank you, " Damien said with mock gratitude, "I feel so lucky to be served so faithfully by a demon in such high demand.” Antefalken nodded, with a slight smirk, accepting the gratitude in the spirit in which it was given.

  Damien got a puzzled expression his face. "Crabs? They won't sleep with you over crabs? I can't even think they'd be able to tell. They haven't even noticed you're a demon yet!"

  "I don't have crabs!" Antefalken finally stopped playing, "Anna Leri just told them that. And, of course, they know I'm a demon. That's why they want to sleep with me. After all, being 753 years old gives me more experience than any other man they're likely to meet. Plus you know how women always love an older man. Further, where exactly do you think all those legends of 'demon lovers' came from? I wrote half the book, and after one night, these maids know it! and they tell their friends."

  "So why didn't you just tell them you'd gone to the Abyss and the crabs got burned off?"

  "I tried, but apparently Anna Leri told them they were demon crabs and couldn't be gotten rid of short of a miracle from the gods." Antefalken moaned. Damien started laughing.

  Chapter 34

  Tom followed Rupert down the trail. Rupert was following the horses by several feet, and Jenn was on the first horse, as usual. Tom had given up talking to the girl. She was obviously as insane as any of the wizards. The only sane person in Astlan seemed to be Rupert, and if Tom was completely objective, he'd have say that Rupert was crazy for not bei
ng afraid of something as deadly as a demon.

  ~

  Jenn continued to puzzle out the book in her hands. She'd tried several light probes but could figure nothing out about the spell that bound it. Whatever it was, Jehenna had gone to great lengths to secure it from prying eyes. Naturally this made Jenn even more curious. She was becoming convinced that whatever it was, it was probably the reason two masters had been assigned to the wagon train. Further, she was fairly certain it was what the demon was after. Why the demon just didn't grab it, she didn't know. Maybe it was waiting for her to figure out how to open it first, then steal it.

  Jenn's thoughts were interrupted by a brilliant flash of what appeared to be fire in front of her. Her horse reared and started screaming in terror. Unprepared for the horse's action, Jenn went flying off backwards, onto the ground. "Whooooof" went Jenn as she had the breath knocked out of her.

  "What the Abyss?" she tried to gasp, but lacked the air to do so. In front of her horse were two third order demons! Jenn would have screamed if she'd had the air. She didn't, so instead she tucked the book into one of her large robe pockets and frantically began reaching for spell components.

  ~

  As Tom noticed a flash of red light from in front of the horses, he suddenly felt his arms grabbed from behind. Startled, Tom tried to duck and turn in midair, but found his wings and movement impeded by two demons hanging off the back of him. Shit! thought Tom. Just what I needed. He reached awkwardly around, over his right shoulder with both hands and grabbed the demon on that side. He grabbed the demon's head, poking himself on its horns. Without thinking he began to squeeze. The demon's head was tough. The demon howled in pain, but didn't let go.

  Tom lost altitude and hit ground with the two demons still clinging to him. He heard Rupert shouting what sounded like obscenities, but didn't have time to pay much attention. He concentrated, squash! he thought, focusing all his concentration and strength on squeezing the demon's head. A red glow surrounded his claws. Suddenly there was a scream from the demon, and then a pop! as the demon's skull caved in. The demon let go. Its headless body sank to the ground and began to fade from sight. Tom flicked his claws to let the fading pieces of skull fall from his hands.