At least, I thought the bear – a kokogiak, if I recall stories I’d heard while we were in Spurhorn correctly – was going to charge. Instead, he filled the room with fog as he roared. Terry squeaked in terror and shot into the fog as Burin charged in… which meant I was useless. I couldn’t cast a fireball in without hitting my companion, since I couldn’t see a damn thing.
Thanks, Burin.
Instead, I used magic to turn Nebbie into a massive formian queen – they’re a kind of invasive alien ant people, at least according to Daddy’s notes – so she could protect me if the bear came out while I heard the telltale sound of Gregor teleporting in and attacking. Meanwhile, I heard the bear talking in the language of water elementals, which I don’t speak. Burin does, so he responded and I heard the sound of fighting.
I cast a spell to increase her speed and sent in Nebula – there was no way the bear would get to me with her in between it and the door. And in the end, we were victorious. Once the fog cleared, we looked through the stuff lying around. It seemed that someone – probably Yrax – had given him a bunch of valuable trinkets, which the kokogiak had tossed aside in disdain.
Remember what I said earlier about “the strange offspring of a dragon and a weird subterranean creature I’d read about called a destrachan”? Well, it exists. And it attacked us while we were busy looting the kokogiak’s treasures – and skin, because Gregor just had to.
The creature unleashed its icy breath in an opening gambit, which killed Nebula. Well, at least temporarily, since I knew she’d manifest again just fine tomorrow. Still, I was pissed, so I hit him back with a fireball. And Terry blasted it with four rapid rounds, one of which went in through the eyeball and exploded out the back of the skull.
“M-M-Machine of death,” Terry said, his teeth chattering.
Gregor inspected the body. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the massive hole in the creature’s skull. “Terry, you must be more careful. This skin is damaged now.” Terry rolled his eyes.
“Do you think anyone else heard us?” Burin asked.
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “We really need to silence that gun of yours,” I said to Terry.
“Probably, yeah,” Terry agreed.
“We should hurry and get moving in case someone did,” I said.
“I’ll be quick,” Gregor promised. “I have to leave all the skin from here to here anyway, since someone tore a hole in it.”
We moved quickly, reaching a massive swimming pool. It was too bad we didn’t have time, since I would have loved to take a dip. It had been forever since I’d last even seen a swimming pool. Don’t get me wrong, the hot springs were great, but a swim would have been a great workout. But Burin found magic in the water – apparently someone was keeping it ice cold but liquid – and Terry spotted something swimming in the water.
It looked like another creature I’d heard about in Spurhorn, an akhlut, though, had you asked me to name it, I’d probably have called it an orcawolf, since it looked like nothing more than it looked like a cross between a wolf and a killer whale.
Burin suggested we walk away, but whatever it was, Gregor desperately wanted its skin – to no one’s surprise – so he lured it out with some kokogiak meat and beat it to death – with some sarcasm-laden support from Terry, who killed it by throwing a grenade into its mouth. At least it actually ended up being quieter than the gunshots, I guess.
This was becoming too much of a pattern for us. We find a thing, kill the thing, and take its skin – and other valuables. At what point would we have crossed the line and gone from heroes or adventurers to some kind of creepy serial killers? I mean, Gregor already had a bunch of giant skins, though it’s not like we’d killed them to take their skins. So was that the point? When we killed humanoids just for their skins, would we have become monsters?
I don’t like to think about it, but these are the questions that keep me up at night.
We continued through the massive building until we came to another hallway with several doors on either side. On our right were a couple large doors, on the left was a set of smaller doors that seemed to have a place to put locks on the outside, though none currently had any. Cells for prisoners, if I had to guess.
“I’m gonna check the small doors first,” Terry whispered. He went to the first cell and opened it, peeking inside. “Clear!” he whisper-shouted, moving to the next. “Also clear!”
He got to the third and opened it, and I heard a voice from within. “Who are you, and what are you doing wandering the halls?” a woman’s voice asked in Triaxian – I had Gregor translate for me. Panicking, Terry did the only thing he could think to do. He shut the door. Burin walked over and opened it again. “You’re a strange looking creature,” she said to him. Again, Gregor translated.
“It’s a Triaxian,” Burin called over using the language of dragons. “Ask her who she’s allied with.”
The woman responded in the language of dragons. “I am allied with myself,” she said. “But, by custom and tradition, I am bound to serve and protect the lord of this place.”
“Sounds like you don’t want to be here,” Terry said. “If we release you, can you leave this place?”
“I am bound by custom and tradition to remain,” was all she answered.
“That’s unfortunate,” Burin said. “Say, do you know what a bear is?”
“I am unfamiliar with that word.”
“Oh. How about a kokogiak?”
“Yes. One is staying here now, in fact.”
“Was,” Gregor corrected, wisely using Taldan.
“Right. We’re looking for a pelt that looks like it came from a creature like a kokogiak, but with only four legs,” Burin said.
“Why do you wish to find this thing?”
“We need it to continue our search for Baba Yaga so she can prevent her daughter from plunging our world into eternal winter,” Burin answered. “It’s the key to continuing on her trail.”
“I see,” the woman answered, stepping out of the cell. “I may have seen something like that, and I’m willing to tell you for a price.”
“What is your price?” Burin asked.
“I have been very bored here. If one of you could entertain me with a sparring match, I will answer your question. If you best me, I will answer any other questions you may have.”
“Lyriana, would you like to fight her, since you’re both girls?” Burin asked.
“I doubt she’ll agree to let me use fireballs,” I answered. And based on the gear she was wearing, she was a hand to hand specialist.
“Correct,” the woman answered. “No magic. Unarmed combat. Meant to best, not to injure. Yield only when on the verge of collapse.”
“I will fight you,” Gregor said.
“I was hoping you would say that,” the woman answered. “You looked like the most interesting opponent.”
She led us to an arena of sorts. It wasn’t as big as I might have expected, considering the whole thing with it being for dragons. Maybe the size of half of a football field, with seating roughly equivalent to that of a basketball court.
They bowed to each other ritualistically, and she opened with a show of prowess, whirlwinding roundhouse kicks in rapid succession and whatnot. I was actually worried after seeing that, and I could see that it had spooked Gregor more than a bit. But he swallowed any fear and did a show of his own.
I’ll admit, I was impressed. It was more than just a few kicks and punches. It was like martial arts combined with break dancing. Like that one martial art Daddy thinks is cool. Capybara or something.
And then the fight was on. She charged in with a powerful kick, which Gregor blocked, but I could see that it had still hurt him. Gregor retaliated by going for a single punch knock-out. He did hit, but it wasn’t enough to bring her down.
So she reacted with fluid and flashy strikes, obviously meant to be used in spectacle combat. She was capitalizing on his nervousness, I think, to weaken his ability to defend himself. Gregor, on the other hand, unleashed a no-nonsense assault, weaving in kicks and punches in ways I’d never seen him use against our generally larger foes. He wasn’t fighting for an audience. Instead, he seemed to only see the opponent before him.
It was close, but in the end, it was the power of the nanites in Gregor’s blood that gave him the edge. His skin flared with those glowing lines as they activated, healing his wounds and making him stronger temporarily.
And in the end, he got his knockout, sending her collapsing to the floor and having to hold back the rest of his flurry. He then fell back on his bottom and laughed. “Good fight,” was all he said for a moment. Terry rushed over and used the nanite gun to heal and awaken the Triaxian woman.
“I have not been tested such in quite some time,” she said.
Gregor reached over and patted her head. “You… are very fluffy,” he responded. Oh. Right. The nanites caused temporary brain damage.
“Use setting two on him,” I called over to Terry.
“Already on it,” he responded.
After he was better, I went ahead and used my wand to fix up their remaining bruising and we got to questioning the woman. “The hide you seek is in Yrax’s treasure room,” she answered. “But I am only vaguely sure of where that is. You will need the help of the cook to find it, for the entrance is hidden. What is your next question?”
“How good is Yrax about taking care of his skin?” Gregor asked. Behind him, Terry facepalmed.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Terry said. Then he batted Gregor on the nose. “Down, boy.” He then turned back to the Triaxian. “What is your purpose in this place?”
“I am Cesseer of Ning. I am a Battleflower, chosen consort and bodyguard of Yrax. He brought me here with promises of honor and glory. Sadly, I have been relegated to little more than a trophy after I refused to fight a sickly prisoner for his amusement.”
“Okay,” Burin said. “How about torches? Do you fear them?”
“What?” she asked. This time, it was me doing the facepalming.
“The first Triaxian we met had an aversion to torches. I was just curious.”
“No, strange little man, I do not fear torches.”
Terry walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, lady, as someone who has been the slave of a dragon before, trust me when I say that you’re better off leaving.”
“I cannot. I gave my word of honor that I would remain.”
“Some things are more important than honor,” Terry said.
“Perhaps for your people. But for mine, honor is everything. However, if he were to die, my honor would allow me to leave.”
Burin’s face lit up. “And because 0ne of us beat you, does that mean you wouldn’t have to interfere? Which means we can kill him!”
“Precisely. Seek out the cook. I will give you directions.”
We thanked Cesseer and headed back out into the hall. Before heading in the direction we’d been told would lead us to the cook, we headed back to a large door we passed and checked inside. Within the room, we found a number of corpses. Most were Triaxian, but there were a few dragonkin as well as creatures we didn’t recognize. There were research notes around, and it was clear that Yrax was trying to make a golem out of the various carrion.
His writing was an interesting look into his psyche. The phrase “delusions of grandeur” doesn’t even begin to describe him. He truly thought he was a god. He kept saying that he would conquer this world, and all others, using the great power within him.
I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising. From what Daddy tells me, most dragons are like this. Even the good ones tend to be a bit condescending, as though we “lesser races” are children they need to watch out for.
After we stole everything of value in the room, Burin piled all the corpses on the partially constructed golem, doused the whole thing in oil and lit it on fire. I said a quick prayer for the dead as we made our way out of the room and began the trip down the hall to find the kitchen.
As an aside, did they really need to make the fortress THAT big? I know it was made for dragons, but surely they could have cut that thing in half and still had more than enough rooms. One thing’s for sure, it was not made for human-sized women in high-heeled boots. It eventually got to the point where I stopped walking and just flew a few inches above the ground.
The kitchen was fairly large, but it had obviously been refitted with workspace for smaller creature. “What do you want?” said smaller creature – a nereid with green hair pulled back in numerous tiny braids – asked us.
“Cesseer said you had what we need,” Gregor answered.
“Well, in that case, come in and have a seat at the table. Stew’s done.”
We sat down and she served us each a bowl from the pot she had on the wood burning stove. Gregor was the first to take a bite. “The stew is…” he narrowly avoided choking on it, “…good?”
Burin took a bite and made a face, but said nothing and kept eating. Terry tasted it. “I… like… what you’re doing with this. I’ve never had anything that tasted like this.” It was an obvious lie, it was clear on his face that he hated it.
“Oh come on,” I said, seeing it was clear that the nereid didn’t buy either lie. “Surely it can’t be that bad.” I took a big spoonful and popped it into my mouth… and promptly spit it back out. “Okay,” I said. “It really is that bad.” I smiled apologetically at the nereid.
She laughed vivaciously. “No, you’re right. It’s all I have to work with. Yrax barely likes his food dead, much less cooked or seasoned. Iantor can’t talk, so he just eats whatever I put in front of him. And Cesseer, well, she prefers her food bland, unseasoned and functional, so I haven’t had a real challenge in ages. Nor, for that matter, do they give me quality ingredients. So, that out of the way, my name’s Viveka. What really brings you here?”
“We’re looking for a bearskin,” Burin said, still eating the stew.
“Before you ask, like this, but with fewer legs and probably brown or black,” Gregor said, holding up the kokogiak’s hide.
Viveka laughed. “Someone finally killed him? Yrax is going to be furious.”
“It is not hard to kill a giant bear when you have the right bait,” Gregor said, glancing at Burin.
“That only begins to scratch the surface of why he’ll probably be pissed at us,” I said, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Terry agreed. “We also killed a dragon with a messed up face and stolen everything we’ve found that wasn’t nailed down.”
“A dragon with a messed up face?” Viveka asked. Then it dawned on her. “You killed Iantor?!” She began laughing again.
“Who is Iantor?” Burin asked.
“Yrax’s son.”
“Oh, then I should not show Yrax what is in my bag,” Gregor said.
“You took his skin?!” Viveka said, laughing again.
“I am hoping to put Yrax in there with him, if it helps. So, where may we find the skin we seek?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but if it’s valuable it will be in his treasure room, which is behind the room he uses as a combination of a nest and throne room. But getting to it is the tricky part. You have to know the way, and how to open the secret door. Just be careful. He doesn’t allow anyone in there, and will certainly attack you on sight.”
“Good,” Gregor said, cracking his knuckles.
“How do you know where it is, if he doesn’t let anyone go there?” Terry asked.
“My shawl is in there,” Viveka answered, suddenly serious.
“Your shawl?” Burin asked, concern on his face completely obliterated as he bit into something that was apparently bitter.
“Yes. It was stolen from me a couple centuries ago by a fisherman, who gave it to his dragon lord. Said dragon used it to enslave me and force me to become his cook. Yrax eventually heard about me and purchased my shawl – and me, by extension – from the other dragon. And thus I’ve been here, bored, ever since. Say, now that I’m thinking about it, do you think you could retrieve my shawl for me while you’re in the treasure room? I’ll make it worth your while.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for it,” Gregor agreed.
“Oh, and if you hear an explosion,” Terry said, “you should go to Cesseer. She should be able to keep you safe until we can get back to you.”
“An explosion?” Viveka asked. “Oh dear.”
“You will hear it, right?” Terry asked. “Did you hear the gunshots earlier?”
“Yes,” Viveka confirmed. “But those weren’t any of my concern.”
“Cool,” Terry said.
Back in the hallway, Terry activated his ioun stone again, changing appearance to look like Cesseer. “That way no one will question us if they see us,” he said. It was a good idea. I should have thought of it earlier.
We followed Viveka’s directions and made our way to the audience chamber. Along the way, we killed more golems – fossil golems, to be exact – and in the chamber, we destroyed some glass golems. Then we opened the secret door and headed down the tunnel, where we encountered and fought an elder ice elemental.
Should I be worried that I’m writing about combat like someone might write about going to the store and picking up groceries? Because I’m not, but part of me IS worried that I’m not worried.
Anyway, we finally reached the door to the chamber, spotting the tracks from the cart we had the statue on. They led into the room. Terry tried to quietly open it, but was immediately spotted. He let out a yelp, then quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Master!” I heard him say through the door. “Someone has slain the kokogiak!”
Yrax responded by letting out a roar.
“Shit,” came Terry’s voice from the other side of the door.
A pallor spread across Burin’s face. “We have to go in! NOW!”
Before I could ask what was wrong, Gregor interrupted. “Do it!” the fighter said.
I pulled out my phone and set off the bomb, and we began the fight. First there was the explosion, then Terry began shooting. Gregor and Burin ran inside the room. And I followed just behind, unleashing my most powerful fireball – three orders of magnitude greater than a normal fireball, for the record.
And that was it. The dragon was dead. “That was anti-climactic,” I said, tempting fate.
“It’s not over,” Burin answered. But again, before I could ask for clarification, I was interrupted.
Red lightning crackled from the corpse, slamming into Burin. Then, moments later, there was an explosion that knocked us all from our feet – all of us aside from Burin, who remained standing at the epicenter.
Next to Burin was a nine foot tall being. Above his head was a halo made of spinning blades made of some strange black metal, and in his left hand, he held a shield made of the same strange metal. On his back were eight wings, alternating in feather color between black and blood red. And black and red lightning crackled through the air all around him.
It was hard to see, but there was also a faint silver cord between him and Burin, an astral tether binding him to Burin’s very soul. At long last, we were seeing the true form of Amgorath, the demon within Burin, only, well… it wasn’t a demon!
“That’s an Angel of Wrath!” I shouted as I got to my feet. They were the kind of angels sent by deities who had to punish something. It was rumored that both Iomedae’s herald and Ragathiel had been Angels of Wrath before moving on to greater things.
“But I thought it was supposed to be a demon!” Terry answered, standing as well.
“He looks strong!” Gregor shouted with a snarling grin, standing and turning into a frost giant.
“Whatever he is, we can’t let him escape!” Burin roared, charging.
Amgorath reached up into his halo and drew forth a wicked looking spiked longsword. He bared his fanged teeth in a snarl as he met Burin’s charge. As the two clashed, Burin began glowing with blue and white energy, while his foe continued to spark blood red and black.
Terry fired a volley of flame and Gregor teleported behind Amgorath, who completely ignored and shrugged off the fighter’s massive blows. Burin kept casting, trying his best to slow his foe’s movement, and I did what I could to support, unleashing a volley of spiked balls of force at Amgorath, trying to knock him down.
Amgorath laughed. “PITIFUL MORTALS!” it roared, its voice reverberating through the chamber. With a wave of his hand, a wall of spinning blades appeared around him. Burin and Gregor chose to continue fighting within the wall, and just hope that their armor and strength would allow them to continue fighting.
Terry and I, on the other hand, couldn’t get a clear line to attack from, so we both took to the air, Terry finally finding a use for that magical dragon figurine we’d found. Terry scored a few more hits, but I wasn’t able to score with my channeled ray of cosmic radiation.
Gregor stumbled back out of the spinning blades, but it was clear Burin wasn’t leaving until we pulled him out. And maybe he was right to keep fighting, as that kind of angel is rumored to have massive regenerative ability.
“I’ve got you!” Terry shouted, diving down and drawing the nanite gun to support Burin.
Then Amgorath spoke an eldritch word, and Burin locked up, dropping his axe. I swooped down and pulled him back out of the blades. “Heal him quickly, and it should remove the affliction!” I said. And if not, at least Burin would be ready to keep fighting.
Gregor made his way around as Terry and I used the nanite gun and a wand to try to heal Burin as quickly as possible. Terry spotted Gregor’s wounds and moved to assist, leaving me to tend to Burin as much as I could.
Meanwhile, Amgorath laughed as he cast several light healing spells to augment his supernatural regeneration. “I WILL BE FREE!” he roared.
“Death is freedom!” Gregor shouted back, dropping the spent nanite gun Terry had handed him before taking to the air once more.
“Look!” Terry said from above. “Burin’s axe!”
He was right. Burin’s axe no longer glowed a faint blue. It was absolutely incandescent. Burin broke free from the spell and began sprinting. “I’m going in!” he shouted as he dove into the wall and scooped up his axe.
He swung with all of his might, and there was a brief moment of absolute silence. Then there was a muted explosion as energy burst through the room. After it dissipated, the wall of blades was gone, and there was Burin, standing next to a reeling Amgorath.
“Now’s our chance!” Gregor roared, charging forward and uppercutting the angel into the sky at Terry.
“You messed with the wrong people, asshole!” Terry shouted, making the platinum dragon do a flip and slam the angel into the ground with a massive tail smash.
Burin rushed towards the falling angel. “You will threaten the world no longer!” As the angel bounced, Burin cast his spell again, petrifying the angel. Which was impossible. They are absolutely immune to it. But Burin did it anyway. And the angel froze into a fossil.
But I could still see it twitching. It wasn’t over. Deep inside me, the thunderstorm roared. Now was not the time to resist its power, only give it focus. So I did. I channeled the raging storm and using its fury, cast a spell that I hadn’t prepared today.
“Goodbye,” I said. A beam shot forth from my fingertips. It hit Amgorath and began dissolving the bonds between the molecules that made him. And he broke apart into dust. Amgorath, the terrible demon who had plagued Burin’s family for generations was no more. And then there was silence.
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