The Demon's Chamber

by Brian Spielbauer

  As night fell the activity in the forest seemed to pick up. They had seen little for animals during the day, but now they began to hear many more sounds. Their progress slowed and their noise picked up as they stepped poorly in the dark. Deep into the night, they heard water rushing over rocks, which told of a stream ahead. When they got to the bank they found themselves by a large river, and there was no going around it. They slid down the bank and into the cold water, Tegan leading the way. It was more than neck deep for the dwarves, so they held on to Erol as he crossed. It was not hard for him, but a new problem quickly arose.

  As they left the stream and sat for a second they heard a loud scream from back across the stream from where they came. The first howl was immediately answered by another from farther behind it.

  “Our pig smell is gone!” Tegan quipped frantically, knowing it had been washed off in the river. “We must go, our smell is drawing them!” Erol barreled through the brush, clearing a path for his friends. The fear of making sounds replaced be the terror of the unseen force quickly closing in. The havoc wreaked by their pursuer was equal to Erol’s, and then some. It sounded like a pack of boars rushing through a thicket.

  The moon’s light fought through the mostly cloudy night as rain started to fall. Soon lightning and thunder joined the storm with the flashes of light helped them see the rocky outcroppings of the mountains looming ahead. The sideways rain pelted them in the face, it was as if every force of nature was trying to slow their advance.

  They ran faster in the rising terrain as it was becoming less dense with trees, despite them running uphill. Tegan heard a loud crash ahead and ordered his crew to halt. The lightning ceased when they needed it most, and they could see little again in the darkness. The downpour was making it hard to hear what was ahead. Tegan hoped they would soon reach the door but knew something was blocking their path ahead while the pursuers gained precious ground behind. Erol stood still, peering into the darkness. He then began to walk cautiously forward, hoping to get a glimpse of what lay ahead.

  From above, hidden in the trees, a Tolltier crashed down with a loud scream that made the others cover their ears. It hit Erol with its claws out, its teeth sinking into his unprotected neck. It was close to Erol’s size and it easily took their friend to the ground, the unexpected weight of the Tolltier was too much for his legs. Erol groaned in agony as the teeth and claws tore at his skin. Despite his frantic efforts, he couldn’t free himself as the Tolltier carved up his back.

  Tegan launched himself onto the Tolltier and began some flesh tearing of his own. The beast turned his attention from Erol to his attacker. Tegan had never fought such a savage beast, it had no care for its own safety. It knocked Tegan to the ground even while Tegan axe caught his attacker in the leg. The Tolltier did not slow, and was ready to pounce on Tegan. The moment of reprieve was all Erol needed to regain himself, the desire for revenge the only fuel he needed for his own attack.

  His anger peeked, Erol would not be denied. He tore into the Tolltier recklessly, and a colossal battle occurred. Each wailed and pounded on the other, delivering heavy blows with each swing and punch. The Tolltier appeared to have a terrible hold on Erol’s throat, when Erol grabbed the jaws of the Tolltier and began to stretch with all his might. In a show of astounding strength to what must have been enormously strong jaws, Erol began to rip the soft tissue around the mouth of the Tolltier. This mouth separating pull brought a different high-pitched gurgle from the animal than the intimidating growl that preceded it.

  Then the scream stopped as the rip turned to a tear, and Erol separated the upper and lower jaw of the Tolltier. Erol tossed the lifeless body of the Tolltier, leaving a sign for the others that could be heard crashing through the forest. Erol was very bloody, and Tegan dizzy, but there was no time for rest as an army of the beasts were arriving. There must have been thirty on their trail as a race to the mountain entrance ensued.

  Erol led the way, clearing the path as needed. He was a little worn down from his fight, but knew there would soon be more Tolltier. If one could battle him to a draw, what could thirty do?

  As the dim light of dawn began to fill the sky, they came to stone steps carved in the rock that ascended the mountain. They scaled the stairs as fast as they could, several steps at a time. Their legs and lungs burned from the long race. Timo looked behind and saw several of the Tolltier traveling the steps too, with great ease.

  “They are here!” Timo squealed. With renewed strength in his legs he passed the others as though they were standing still.

  Tegan got to the top of the steps, just behind Timo, with immense doors of stone blocking their entrance. The sun could be seen low in the sky, which helped their hope. Their best efforts could not budge the door. Erol went to the edge of the steps and began hurling stones at the oncoming Tolltier, but there were just too many. Jaric tried to help with his crossbow, but it mattered little to the oncoming Tolltier. He dropped a few, but there were so many closing in. The Tolltier would soon reach the landing.

  From above the landing and the door, another Tolltier dropped down on Jaric and Erol, taking them over the edge of the steps. Timo rushed out to see where they landed, and was just in time to see Jaric crush the neck of the Tolltier with his axe. Erol left arm had been injured badly, and he could not use it. He was still throwing stones with his right, but the rocks were getting harder to find. Erol and Jaric reached the door level again, and were backing up to the entrance, having spent most of their arsenal. Three huge Tolltier reached the landing, breathing heavy but eager for battle. Tegan stepped forward and stood his ground in front of his friends. The Tolltier paid him little heed, a mistake that would cost them dearly.

  Tegan wielded his axe masterfully taking on all three at once. He kept them at bay as Erol took one down with his last stone, and Jaric stunned another with an arrow to the eye. Tegan emptied the guts of the third, and then knocked the one eyed Tolltier off the edge with a double kick to the chest.

  The level was clear again, but it would not last long. There were many still coming, and they were hungry for blood! Tegan turned to see his group worn down. Even Erol was not up for this battle.

  Timo too noticed his friends were almost through, the ones that had kept him safe since they began their journey now needed his protection. Kyrie told him that he would need to do his part, and he knew that time was now. Timo stood forward and took a stand in front of Tegan, commanding him, “Find a way to get that door open, I will do the rest.”

  Tegan was not sure what Timo was doing, but started checking around the door. Timo turned his attention and focus to the steps. He closed his eyes, reaching deep inside, the young sorcerer commanded his magic to come forth. The next wave of Tolltier reached the top of the steps, this time with more in number. Timo paid them no heed, but calmly opening his eyes and stretching his hands toward the enemy, thinking only for the wellbeing of his friends. He said in a loud, daunting voice that thundered in the small entrance, “Wall of Fire!”

  At that moment fire burst forth from his hand, burning the first few Tolltier. They screamed in torment as they retreated down the steps. The fire formed a shield around the landing, protecting the company. Timo’s concentration stayed with the fire as Tegan, Jaric, and Erol searched along the door for a way in. Tegan noticed the stone that made up the door went below the rock floor.

  “Help me raise the door!” he yelled, lifting as hard as he could. Erol and Jaric lifted, and between the three the door slowly began to rise.

  The Tolltier were not done, and began throwing what they could find through the fire. The logs tossed ignited quickly, the rocks passed through and needed to be dodged.

  Erol gave his last bit of energy to the door, raising it about two feet. He jammed one of the rocks under it to prop it open. They quickly rolled in and yelled for Timo to follow. Just as Timo turned, one of the rocks hit him from behind, taking him to the ground. His concentration broken, the fire wall ceased.

  The first
Tolltier through went after him, but just before getting there the Tolltier was met by a right-hand jab to the face from Erol. The punch dropped it to the ground, knocked out cold. Erol then scooped up Timo and handed him under the opening, before sliding in himself. It was a tight fit for the giant ogre and a difficult move with his injured arm. Tegan and Jaric were quick with the door, knocking the stone away that held it open. The door slammed down hard, catching the hand of one of the Tolltier, smashing and severing it. They could hear the scream of the one-armed Tolltier on the other side. It’s lifeless hand quiver before dying.

  They finally made it into the mountain, but they had just entered an unknown world. It would no doubt be just as dangerous as the one on the other side of the wall.

  Chapter 19: The March

  Telon, both proud of what his men had done for the Men of Calonia and annoyed at the lengthy delay, led his worn troops back to Tunder Bin. There the rest of his army was anxiously waiting, and after a short rest for his men they would finally be off on their journey. The men remaining at Tunder Bin had been camping for five days since Telon left, they would be ready when he returned. Much to his surprise and happiness, his army wasn’t the only one waiting. King Dorir had arrived with one thousand of his best warriors, eager for battle and to find his daughter.

  “Dorir, I am glad you have come!” Telon exclaimed as he came to Dorir.

  “I received your message of the attack, and of Milan and Jedrek,” Dorir said with little hint of the emotions that must have been tearing at him. His daughter meant everything to him, and he slept little since the news was delivered. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Milan, and maybe Jedrek, were taken by gargoyles as goblins attacked the front gate. Tegan has gone after them, and he left me to rule while he is gone. I have decided to go after him.”

  “Milan told me her fears before I left. We planned that if the city was attacked, she would make for our mountains. I sent some boys to look for her, but they have not returned,” Dorir explained, the grip on his concern loosening.

  “We saw her carried off by the gargoyles. There is another maiden, her nanny, which is also missing. I do not know what to think of it,” Telon answered, with growing anxiety in his heart. He wanted to look for Lizzy himself, but knew he could not. “I will send soldiers down to the river to scout any crossings. The maiden is also dear to me, I hope all are found and brought back safe.”

  Telon ordered soldiers to investigate the river, charging them to bring back news before nightfall. Just before evening, they did return, with little news.

  “King Telon, we searched along the entire river. There were signs of a fight, and many dead goblins, but there were no dwarves. There were also footprints of several small dwarves, it appears they searched and found a low spot to cross the river. We had to leave to be back in time, I assumed they were going back to their home. What would you have us do?” the guard asked.

  Telon thought for a bit, and then looked to guard, “I want you and fifty men to track those boys down, I need to know if they have any knowledge of the missing. We will not wait for you to come back, catch up to us when you can.”

  “Yes sir,” the dwarf answered quickly. He clapped his right arm against his chest plate, Telon did the same, and the soldier was off.

  Telon then turned to Dorir, “I would ask you to join us. We currently carry three thousand three hundred warriors, dwarves and men, and we make our way to the gargoyle stronghold.”

  “Men?” Dorir asked, noticing them for the first time in the ranks. He knew of men, but did not trust them. “From where did they come?”

  Telon explained how the men came to the shores of the Flau Strand from the land of Calonia, and how they volunteered to help Telon in his fight.

  “We will go with you, but I urge you to keep caution with the men. I do not think they should be easily trusted,” Dorir said.

  The army had grown to just under five thousand, as it began the long and wearing march to the Demon’s Chamber, the land of the gargoyles.

  Telon talked Elard into allowing King Dorir to ride him, the only dwarf he ever carried besides Tegan. The two dwarf kings, astride the tigers, rode up front. Telon’s dwarves were just behind them, and Dorir’s dwarves brought up the rear. King Arlow’s men rode their horses and took up the middle. It was a very imposing army, and one of the size that hadn’t been seen in quite some time. They crossed the river and went north to edge of the forest.

  Telon decided to use the edge of the forest for cover, hugging the mountains to hide their progress. They would march to the north end of the eastern mountain ranges, and attack at the very front of the gate.

  The army marched northeast along the forest and deep into the night before Telon decided to make camp. “Light the fires, men and let ‘em know we are coming!” Telon was not interested in sneaking up on his foe. The anger inside him overcame his usual tentativeness. He also hoped to make a large show to draw any attention away from Tegan and his mission.

  As they sat around the fire, Telon and Dorir talked about the men. “I don’t trust them. We don’t know them, or even really why they are here,” compelled Dorir. “We only know what they told you and human people will say anything to get what they want.”

  “Then let’s get one up here. Aaron, go ask the men to send up a representative, we need to talk with one of them,” Telon said.

  Soon Aaron returned with one of the men. He was tall and strong looking, and had a very noble feel. As he approached and entered their camp, he knelt low, “Kings Telon and Dorir, what do you ask of us?”

  Telon spoke, “We ask first, your name?”

  “Bryon is my name, Lord.”

  “Bryon, your men have sent you. We ask that you lead them, we need to have someone they trust to carry out any orders,” Telon explained.

  “Lord, we will do what you ask whether we have a leader or not, we fight for you. You need not be concerned, the dwarves saved our people. We will lay down our lives for you,” Bryon said this as he lay down his sword at Telon’s feet.

  Dorir was touched by the sincerity of Bryon’s words, but it would be long before he truly trusted any man. He looked at Bryon and said, “Sit, I want to know about what happened to your people.”

  Bryon stood as Telon handed him his sword back and offered him a chair, which he eagerly accepted, “I am not sure where to begin, our downfall did not happen overnight. We are from a land far to the north, across the desert Nubari and the Ice Berg Sea. We called our land Calonia. Our people lived there peacefully for centuries on end. Many years ago, a wanderer took refuge in our land and began to gain favor with our King Arlow’s father. At first, he gave wise council that allowed us to progress and gain lands, and our people prospered. Then we began to reach too far, with bad decision chasing bad decision. Our army began taking losses that it had not seen before. When Arlow became King, Herrog the wanderer lost favor, and he was escorted from our lands.” Bryon paused as the memories carried into the dark past.

  Dorir could see the pain Bryon and his people carried, his distrust of them lessoning. “I fear Herrog has wrought many ill tides over the years, his words are hard to resist.”

  Bryon continued, “Herrog gathered many men to his side, they grew greedy and lustful for the riches they were wrongfully promised. In the civil strife that followed our land was ripped apart. Herrog the sorcerer summoned many fell creatures to his side, wrathfully eager for destruction. The battle pushed us to the sea where several hundred of our best men fell. It was there they made a last stand to protect us, so that some of our people might be able to board our boats and escape to safety. All that guarded our retreat found death in the endeavor.”

  Bryon stopped, as the memories of those lost again overtook him. The anguish on his face at the horrific memories made a deep impression on the dwarves who witnessed it. He then began again, slowly, “That is how we came to rest and be rescued at our time of need by King Fiji and the dwarves. We searched many weeks for
the help we needed. We were turned away many times. Those on the Centaur Island even turned us away, and we eventually ran out of all our supplies. We are a people ripped from their land by a usurper, and one day we will return and take it back! For this reason, we will mark our friends and we will make sure to return the favors done for us.”

  Dorir looked at Bryon with new eyes, “Your people have been through much, and I believe you will return to that land one day and win it back. If we can aid you in that endeavor, we will. We have had similar dealings here with our races of dwarves, this Herrog you speak of has been here also. He once lived in Tunder Bin, and was an advisor to Telon’s grandfather for a time before he was dismissed, just as your King Arlow was wise to do. Perhaps we were lucky it was before he could gain enough support. He must have gone north at that time and started his works anew.”

  “The destruction caused by Herrog, both near and far, angers me deeply. His day of reckoning awaits! For now, we have closer matters at hand. For your help in this Bryon, man of Calonia, we are grateful. We will let you know our plans, the next few days will be long, but for now, rest,” Telon said. Dorir’s worries were put aside, at least for a night.

  Early the next morning, Aaron arrived to see Telon and Dorir. “Lords,” he said, “We have visitors that request to speak with you, though they refuse to enter camp.”

  “Who is it?” inquired Telon.

  “She calls herself Tangela, Queen of the Harpies.”

  “Harpies? This journey gets stranger by the day, what could they want with us?” Telon wondered aloud.

  The two kings walked to the edge of the camp, and across the plain by the trees stood three harpies. They approached the harpies as one of them blurted out as she stepped forth anxiously, “Tegan, you have made it out alive! Where is Timo?”