by Ian Rodgers
As soon as Ain was sent flying, the horned dwarf immediately ignored him and ran, screaming like a berserker, at Dora.
Earlier, she’d been aiding Enrai in the battle by firing her crossbow at any opponent who looked like they might land a hit on the Monk, or be trying to cast a spell, and so far had done quite well in her opinion. But when she saw the deranged horned dwarf charging at her as Ain’s smoking body hit the ground, fear welled up in her.
Unconsciously, she let go of her crossbow and reached for a pouch on her belt, where she kept her potions. Her fingers brushed against canvas mere moments before the molten axe struck her, and she felt her body fill with Divine energy from the Depiction of Utopia.
She raised her other arm in front of her to protect her as best she could from the impending strike, using her crossbow as a makeshift shield. To both her and her assailants surprise, however, the devastating attack did nothing.
“What?” she uttered in disbelief, even as the horned dwarf howled in rage and began to lash out at her. And yet every blow did nothing! She could barely feel the impacts against her, and the heat from the weapon didn’t touch her anymore.
Blinking in confusion, Dora noticed a faint shell of pale silver energy surrounding her entire body. In fact, it felt a lot like the barrier that had once protected Targua from the predation of both demons and time itself.
Her shock was not allowed to last long, however, as the horned dwarf continued trying to murder her. She frowned and retaliated by smacking him upside the head with her crossbow, which was also coated in the same impenetrable energy as she was.
With a roar of pain the mad dwarf staggered back, clutching a bruised lump on his head, but before he had a chance to strike back, a hand coated in lightning rammed straight through his back and out his chest.
Both he and Dora stared at the electrified limb, then over to Ain, who stood glowering behind the horned dwarf. Despite the horrendous burns on the front of his body, he’d risen from the ground and delivered the killing blow to his opponent.
“Are you alright, Dora?” Ain asked, his voice weak.
“Am I fine? Are you fine?! That’s the real question here!” Dora cried. She let go of the rolled-up Depiction of Utopia at her side and grabbed hold of the Spellsword, quickly checking his body and healing his wounds.
He let out a sigh of relief as the intense pain of the burns faded, and he nodded his thanks. “You’re a lifesaver, Dora.”
“No problem, someone has to keep you and Enrai in one piece,” she chuckled, before looking around Ain at the battlefield. “Speaking of the baldy, I believe he’s finished.”
“When they saw their boss die, they tried to run,” Enrai said, walking over to the ground with a wide and victorious smirk on his face. “They didn’t get far.”
The Monk tossed Dora an object, and she caught it after only fumbling it a few times.
“Watch it! And, uh, this is… the silver cube the goblin Shaman was using?” she inquired, recognizing it.
“Yup! Tore it out of the staff. Thought it might be useful, seeing as it allowed us to understand them. Some sort of translation device, I assume,” Enrai said.
“I’m not exactly an expert at identifying magical tools or artifacts, but I think you might be right,” Dora agreed with a nod. She looked at the downed horned dwarf who’d tried to kill her, and frowned.
“What sort of grudge do they have against orcs to make them throw their own lives away?”
“Don’t know. Probably never will,” Enrai replied with a shake of his head. “I do know that I doubt anyone will miss these folks.”
“How can you say that?” Dora demanded, put off by the venom in her friend’s voice.
“They left the gate to their village open. Take a look.”
She and Ain walked over to take get a better view, and they both grimaced. Blood-stained cages, as well as various instruments of torture, dominated the middle of the tiny settlement. It was hard to tell what the species in the cages had once been, their flesh and forms were so badly mauled and mutilated. Dora muttered a prayer for the souls of the butchered, hoping they found some succor from their tormentors at long last.
While there were indeed a number of forges inside the walls, those were obviously workspaces. It was clear from the way the cages and bloodied tools were placed in the open that the main past time of this sick little settlement was bloodier than any sapient race had a right to.
“That’s… ugh, this whole set-up reminds me of some of the less civilized slavers in the Cracked Land. They peddled pain first, and people second,” Dora spat as the trio walked into the walled village.
“Let’s look around for supplies, and hopefully a map or some other means of getting out of here,” Ain suggested. He glanced down at his now empty sheath. “I need a replacement for my saber, first and foremost.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard to find something decent in this place,” Enrai mused. The Monk wasn’t wrong, either, Dora thought to herself. The various forges were all designed to craft weapons, and examples of what the settlement had made before its inhabitants had been wiped out were available for viewing. Some were simple, like swords and axes. Others were exotic, like a strange meat cleaver-looking weapon that had rings studding it, or a large sword that had three prongs, like fusion between a claymore and a trident.
“Looks like they used the magma to heat their furnaces, and dredged molten ore from it as well,” Ain said as he looked over the set-up for one of the local forges. He picked up a sword that was glowing with heat, similar to the battle-axe the dwarf had had.
“This was made from Volcanic Steel,” Ain revealed, eyeing it closely. “It’s a rare alloy that requires the intense heat of lava or magma to forge properly. Once completed, anything made from the Volcanic Steel retains the heat with which it was made. It can also absorb fire, as the dwarf leader earlier demonstrated.”
“Should we take it with us? If it’s that rare, we could sell it for some gold. Or whatever the currency here is,” Dora suggested as she rooted through the buildings, looking for anything of value. A pouch of glistening, magic-filled topazes was the biggest find. “Lady Dramhyda gave me a refund for the day we didn’t spend at the Resort, but more money is always welcome.”
“If I can find a sheath to put this blade in, I’ll do so. Not going to keep one for myself, though. The Fire mana in the blade would mess with my Lightning spells,” Ain said, putting the fiery weapon down. “What about you, Enrai? Interested in any of the weapons here?”
“Not really, always preferred to fight with my own body,” the Monk responded, his voice coming from down the street. “Not that I don’t appreciate the value of a hidden weapon, but I can’t see myself using anything here.”
“Oh, and I think I found the way out,” he added, voice tinged with awe. Ain and Dora made their way to his side, curious as to what he’d found. The half-orc whistled when she saw what her bald friend had discovered.
A large ring, fifteen feet tall with a hole ten feet tall and ten feet across, stood at the very back of the compound, next to a large house that was built much better than anything else in the village. What drew the eye the most was that the ring-shaped structure was made entirely of pale green jade and etched with complex runes.
Dora had been around enough trans-dimensional portals by now that she was starting to recognize several of the symbols being used, and she voiced her suspicions to the group.
“I think this might be the way the dwarves and goblins transported their goods,” Dora mused. “No chance in any of the Hells they’d risk moving their wares through Gaeum on foot. Not after the mess we’ve seen and been through down here.”
“You’re probably completely right,” Ain stated. “How do we activate it, though? Without it killing us when we try to use it, that is.”
The group shared a look, before turning back to staring at the ring-shaped portal creating artifact.
“Just fill it with magic and see what happens?�
�� Dora suggested.
“Could work. Or, it could kill us,” Enrai pointed out.
“Maybe that silver cube has secondary functions? Like a key or something? It seemed rather important,” Ain said, and the Healer nodded.
“Let’s find out!” she said happily, and she whipped out the silver colored box and pressed it against the side of the portal.
A loud hum split the air, and the runes began to glow red. In the center of the ring, a pulsating orange vortex tore itself into the fabric of reality, just barely large enough for them to step through.
“I think it’s working!” Dora exclaimed happily. Ain gave her a ‘no, really?’ look that had her sticking her tongue out at him.
“Let’s go!” Enrai suggested, ushering the rest of the group through.
∞.∞.∞
Dimensions apart from the realm of endless rocks and dirt a house stood upon a hill. The hill was made from a gargantuan rotting corpse of a long dead entity, and it was located deep in a ravine where no light could ever reach. The house itself appeared as a normal two-story home one might see in a more technologically superior realm at first glance, but the closer one got, the more it became misshapen and twisted, its form subtly altered to produce a disconcerting effect. Windows were too large or too small for their frames, or even the walls they were set into, doors were at crooked angles, the colors ran together and blended with each other to form an ever-shifting mess, and the angles of the building itself were non-Euclidian most of the time.
Inside the home lived a family so divorced from reality they were often shunned by all things. At the moment, only two entities were present.
“Bolgoros! Bol, get your lazy butt up here!” a thin, reedy man shouted out in a thin, reedy voice from the top of a staircase that led down into a dark, foreboding basement. The man’s left arm was lumpy and grotesquely swollen, ending in a hand three sizes too large compared to his other appendage. The rest of his body was humanoid is appearance, though the skin was a vibrant blue, and his hair and eyes a sickly green.
“Awww, but brother Selquist, I’m busy playing with my toys!” a deep baritone called back from below. In the background, screaming, crying, and pleading drifted up, barely audible beneath the booming voice.
“We have a job to do, Bol! One that’s been given to us by baby bro’s buddy, that weird creepy cloak demon,” the man with the giant hand called out, and for a moment there was no response.
Eventually, a loud, exasperated “Fine!” rang out, accompanied by the sounds of screaming, then crunching, chewing, tearing and swallowing.
Finally, an explosive burp tore through the house, the force of it buffeting the reedy humanoid, causing it to stagger back.
“Okay, I’m ready, brother!” the deep voice boomed, and from the basement a massive form emerged. Its flesh was pallid and pale, while also bloated and corpulent. The entity could have been mistaken as a morbidly obese human, if not for the blackened bone-like spikes jutting from his body at random intervals, or the wide, lipless mouth that was filled with nothing but sharp, jagged fangs and a slimy black tongue.
As the creature pushed its way out of the basement, it looked at its brother with dull, unblinking eyes the color of rot.
“Brother Selquist, what’s the job?”
“We’ve been asked to track down a Chosen One who stole from our friends, the World Rebellion. We can kill her, if we want. But we have to recover the Depiction of Utopia from her first and foremost,” the man with the oversized hand explained. “Would you like that? I know I haven’t had a chance to kill a Chosen One in several millennium. Should be fun!”
“That does sound fun! But where are the others?” Bolgoros, Flesh of Typhon and eldest of his offspring, inquired of his younger sibling.
“Rath is off doing something stupid and reckless in the Elemental Plane of Wind, last I heard. And Philia is chasing down some other Chosen One who came to the Aether. As for Enom, he’s doing something with the World Rebellion’s Hierophant. Cooking up a scheme, no doubt,” Selquist, the dread Hand of Typhon, explained to his brother.
“Can we get something to eat on the way? My toys didn’t fill me up,” Bolgoros complained, and Selquist sighed wearily.
“Yes, we can grab some grub when we get to the Elemental Plane of Earth,” he agreed, and the bloated abomination gleefully clapped his hands.
With a gesture from his bloated hand, a grey vortex tore into existence. The two siblings slipped inside, and a collective tremor of fear surged across the Multiverse. It was not often that two of Typhon’s brood were in the same place at once. Terrible, unholy things tended to happen.
Chapter 8: Down, down, down
“Oops!” Dora cried out as she stumbled out of the portal. Ain caught her as she fell.
“Not exactly a smooth ride, huh?” he chuckled, while Enrai emerged from the vortex behind them.
“I don’t know why, but I felt a wave of vertigo hit me just as I stepped out,” Dora complained. “And while I’d love to just stop using portals to get places, I have a feeling they’re going to be a common feature in my life from now on.”
“Knowing us, we’ll probably be portal hopping for a long time to come,” Enrai agreed, before looking around at where the portal from the smuggler’s hideout had delivered them. “The more important thing right now is to find out where exactly we’ve landed.”
“Seems like a warehouse,” Ain noted, eyeing the large steel crates that covered a large portion of the room. The area was dark and cramped thanks to all the containers and lack of lanterns or torches, but thin trickles of light could be seen spilling out from cracks on the wall, and from underneath a door in the distance. The vortex behind them let off light of its own, a faint green glow that didn’t reach very far.
The paltry amount of illumination from the outside world and the portal gave the group just enough visibility to shuffle their way out of the warehouse and towards the exit.
Ain kept a close ear out as they crept away, making sure nothing snuck up on them. Dora silently thanked the Divine Family for small mercies when they reached the door and no commotions or alarms were raised.
The door was locked, unfortunately, with both mundane means and a few anti-theft spells. After some time spent fruitlessly trying to open it without causing a commotion, or setting off any traps, Enrai hit upon the brilliant idea of punching their way out. Not through the door, though, but through the wall next to it.
After some debate, they decided that this idea was so stupid, it just might work, and let Enrai go to town on the thick stone slabs that made up the building’s walls.
“Phew! We got out nice and safe!” the Monk exclaimed cheerfully as he stepped out of the hole he’d smashed through the side of the warehouse.
“Cannot believe that worked,” Ain muttered to himself. “Who only traps and protects the door, and not the area around it?”
“People who don’t expect a Monk to punch their way out of solid stone?” Dora pointed out, and the Grand Elf sighed in reluctant acceptance.
“Fair enough,” he admitted, idly brushing some dust off his clothes as he stepped through the opening his friend had kindly provided for them.
“Looks like wherever we are, it’s a dull and dreary place. The various lamps, lanterns, and torches barely illuminate anything, and I think we’re still stuck underground,” Dora complained as she followed Ain out of the hole. She glanced back at the still swirling vortex they’d used to enter the warehouse in the first place.
“Should we, uh, close it?”
“How?” Enrai asked, not unreasonably.
“That is a good question, actually,” the half-orc admitted, eyeing the spatial distortion with a critical look. “Maybe it’ll close itself when it runs out of power?”
“I suggest we make a decision soon,” Ain said, ears twitching. “I’m picking up the sound of several pairs of feet stomping our way. We might not want to be caught out in the open next to what is technically a crime scene.�
��
“You have a point,” Enrai said. “And not just your ears!”
The glare the Grand Elf shot the bald human could have peeled flesh from bones. Luckily for Enrai, he was immune to his friend’s displeasure by now. Instead, he placed his hands upon Ain and Dora’s shoulders, and casually escorted them away from the warehouse he’d punched his way out of.
The trio stuck to back alleys for a while, making sure they didn’t attract any attention. This decision proved wise as loud, angry shouts erupted from where they’d just left.
Hurrying along through the dimly lit streets of the city, Dora took the time to examine her surroundings as they went. The buildings were odd, one and all. Some had similar construction styles, but for the most part the place was a mishmash of architectural styles. She recognized only a few, the rest being alien.
‘In my defense, I’ve never really seen that many different types,’ she thought to herself as she examined a building built in the shape of a beehive out of a massive stalactite. It stood right next to a house that looked like a pile of bones arranged into cubic shapes.
Another odd aspect of the place was the general lack of a ‘ground level’ or ‘ceiling.’ There were only sidewalks and bridges that connected to the various buildings. Some had porches or other flat surfaces to stand on, but for the most part there was seemingly nothing holding the structures together, except themselves.
Trailing high into the sky, as far as one could see or lean their head back, were all sorts of buildings descending ever downwards. And if one looked down over one of the many bridges, then nothing but more buildings were visible, as well as the constant clang and hum of construction.
“I think I know where we are,” Ain said as they took refuge at a bar, slipping inside to collect their thoughts.
