By Volk-Oboroten'
Far to the south, villagers assembled in a cramped hall to hear a speech by Captain Tolvin, Nasoj's commander in Caralore. Lowenherz, standing in the back of the crowded chamber, could barely see the speaker's platform. It was just as well, as he feared this sort of assembly might expose an outsider to danger.
"Look!" said a nearby man, pointing at the platform, "It's Voivode Eigird, standing next to the captain."
As a man dressed in heavy furs walked forward, Lowenherz recalled what Marcomir had told him about the voivode. Eigird was a cruel man, who had first gained Nasoj's favor by brutally subjugating towns on the eastern frontier of his empire. Later, he had assisted Nasoj's conquest of Arabarb, helping Baron Calephas ruthlessly crush all resistance.
As the crowd's din dwindled to whispers, Tolvin began to speak. "This is the hour of crisis! Our city is threatened by a foul band of rebels. These slaves of Lilith have already plundered Lik and Bremen!" Lowenherz heard murmurs of discontent in the room, as many villagers claimed that unholy beasts had devoured men in those towns.
Tolvin nervously glanced at Eigird before continuing, "Nasoj has sent Voivode Eigird here to stop these traitors. Do not fear them, for no enemies of the wizard will enter this city alive! Our army will never abandon Caralore!" Tolvin's words did not seem to calm the crowd, for Valaric's advance seemed unstoppable, just like the frosts sent by Oblineth in mid-winter.
In a stern voice, Tolvin declared, "Some fools claim that we should open the gates to Lilith's army. Have they not heard of her giant spiders, which spin webs of deceit across the Athrad Ungol. They seize all men who seek to cross that perilous ford, locking them in a deadly embrace. Those who believe her foul words will be drawn into a devious trap, only to have their very essence destroyed. Her servants will drain all the blood from your veins!"
Lowenherz turned away, as people on the fringes of the crowd began to drift out the doors. While they knew of Eigird's fearsome reputation, many suspected that he had only come to ensure that Tolvin didn't defect to the rebels. The voivode's job was to ensure that the garrison would fight, instead of surrendering the strategic road junction without a battle.
As Lowenherz walked outside, he could hear Captain Tolvin shouting, "Anyone who flees Caralore to the north will be killed! Nasoj will not admit retreat!" Surely this speech was written by Eigird, for Tolvin would at least care for his own city!
Near a wizened tree, Lowenherz encountered Fortinbras again. The dark cleric stood next to a few other acolytes from his cult. Pointing to a crow perched on a high branch, he stated, "From the crebain's omen, we know this is the last day Nasoj shall rule Caralore."
"So, you also oppose the wizard?" Lowenherz whispered. "Have you had any contact with the rebels?"
"Nasoj is unimportant, for he is a mere human. The success or failure of this rebellion is nothing compared to our goal. But we must stay here, to await the Nameless One's emissary."
Perplexed by this answer, Lowenherz asked, "You don't care what happens? If that's true, why would you stay in a city that's about to be the scene of a battle? Many may die . . ."
"You fear death," interrupted an acolyte. "We do not, for we only work to serve the true Friend of Mankind. Our cause is far more important than such trivial matters as death"
"I only fear that I will not live long enough to see the destruction of Nasoj," said Lowenherz sadly, "Or to help end the wizard's tyranny." How long had he lived? Lowenherz knew that his life could not be measured by human standards, for he did not rest in the usual manner as a manticore. Each sleepless night seemed to drain more and more of his life force.
"We also fight to end tyranny," said Fortinbras boldly. "Some day, our Friend shall overthrow Iluvatar, the creator of death. Then, all men shall receive true freedom."
Seeing the crowd disperse from the meeting hall, Lowenherz decided to join them. He was weary of Fortinbras and his acolytes, men dedicated to a cause he found repulsive. Walking away, he thought of their words, wondering how a daedra cult could be so arrogant as to think it could destroy Iluvatar, Father of All, not merely some minor Lightbringer deity.
Not far away, Tolvin entered a tent, worried about what Eigird thought of his speech. Had it been effective? He soon saw the voivoide inside, unwrapping a sable scarf.
"I'll be leaving shortly after noon, once you've disciplined the garrison."
"So soon? Aren't you interested in inspecting the defenses?"
"No! I must leave, for Nasoj has decided to maintain a tight perimeter around the Death Mountains in February. After today, Caralore will be left to fend for itself."
"But what about Lilith? You told me all about the horrible things . . ."
"If you desire safety," interrupted Eigird, "Follow my escort north. Tell the garrison we've left on a lutin hunt, checking for bandits on the supply line. I'll make sure Nasoj gives you another position, somewhere in the cities closer to his citadel."
"How many can come with me?"
"No one but you, Tolvin. The rest must stay to guard this city and die for the glory of Nasoj. Anyone who abandons his post will suffer a fate worse than death. Have you not heard of the wretches at Hornulaq? Some were deserters before the wizard transformed them."
"Voivode, all dread the wrath of Nasoj. But the terror of Lilith grows great. The garrison is not large enough to defend all of the towers which ring Caralore . . ."
"No excuses! I will only allow you to accompany me if I'm satisfied with your preparations for battle. If I don't think the garrison will fight, you'll be left here to die."
A few miles to the south, Valaric greeted a draconian, who had just arrived with news from Scathamond. Valaric had rode ahead of his men, telling them he personally needed to get a good look at Caralore's walls. This was partly true, but Valaric also felt more comfortable assuming his normal form. As Scathamond's reptilian messenger approached, he relaxed, allowing his muzzle to push out into a semi-lupine form.
"Lord Black Fang, there are rumors of beast-men near Caralore," said the draconian. "We think it may be a detachment from the Long Scouts of Metamor."
"That's all?" growled Valaric, "Doesn't Scathamond have other news to report? What about Baron Calephas? A few Keepers won't count for much here."
"He thought it would be best to delay your attack until the Keepers arrive. In that way, you could show our desire to form an alliance with them. It would be good for trade . . ."
"Has Calephas signed the pact? Lilith needs guaranteed access to the Dragon Mountains. More eggs are needed in the spring, so our necromancers can continue to perfect their craft."
"Calephasss" the draconian hissed, annoyed at Valaric's repeated inquiries about the haughty baron, "The treacherous human refused to allow any draconians within Arabarb! How can we trust him without keeping watch on his realm? Scathamond now says we should deal with Metamor instead, as they will surely trade well for mithril from Lik."
Valaric considered the draconian's words carefully. He was eager to capture Caralore, but was aware that the city had once been a formidable fortress. Even in its current depopulated state, it could still be difficult to storm. After all, he'd only taken a small force from Lik, and allowed many of the men from Bremen to return home.
"I'll wait for news of these Long Scouts," said Valaric, dismissing the draconian envoy. Delaying an hour or two would give him more time to find unmanned portions of Caralore's walls. Also, people from inside the city might aid him. At Bremen, Lilith's agents had been planted within the garrison, ready to divulge its secrets toValaric's scouts. Would similar aid be available here?
What about the Long Scouts? Valaric recalled his last meeting with Misha, just after the fox-man's magic axe had been stolen. At the Dark Keep, Misha had not seemed very willing to work with Lilith. Perhaps this would change now.
The draconians had already told him about the battle with Nasoj's lutins near Starven, in which the Long Scouts routed part of the wizard's army on Raven's Rock. Valaric knew that Misha was a mighty warrior, even without his enchanted weapon. Could he somehow be persuaded to serve the Queen of the Tauremorna?
Valaric must be careful, for Lilith had given him strict orders not to make new enemies. The Dark Queen wanted to be seen as a liberator, one who would bring new prosperity to Nasoj's former subjects. She desired no conflict with Metamor Keep, for Misha's home controlled a vital trade route, one which could be crucial to Lik's future as a city.
If only he had the black axe! Misha would surely join Lilith's cause if he recovered his runic weapon. But the axe was lost, for Nasoj's men in Lik had teleported it into the depths of the wizard's citadel.
Valaric still dreamed of leading a conquering army into the Death Mountains, straight to the fiery lakes surrounding Nasoj's grim bastion. He would repay the wizard for casting him out! If only he could turn Nasoj into a rabbit and chase him through the woods!
With anger, Valaric's mind filled with images of the days when the wizard's men had hunted him through snowy woods. Back then, he was a half-starved dire wolf, barely conscious of the days when he was fully human. He surely would have ended up as a wolf pelt rug on someone's floor, but for the intervention of Lilith's cult.
But that was long ago. Lilith wouldn't permit him to attack the rest of Nasoj's empire until her control of Lik was secure. Some day, he would have his revenge on the wizard, but Caralore was first. Thus, Valaric rode off to inspect the city's outer defenses, forgetting about the runic axe which he never expected to see again.
Meanwhile, down in the lowest levels of Nasoj's citadel, Hermann crouched in the end of his tunnel. In the dim light, he saw dense white hairs erupting from his arm. This must be more of the wizard's accursed magic! He only hoped his transformation would not be too painful.
"I will tell you when to grab the axe," said the disembodied voice.
Not again! Ever since the mysterious red glow had appeared, a strange being had been talking to Hermann. What could it be, for it seemed to have no physical form?
Was it something sent by Nasoj to torment him? Hermann had once seen a terrible sight in the city, a man possessed by one of the Fallen. Perhaps the wizard guarded his cells with evil spirits, eager to enter the metamorphosized bodies of prisoners.
Sensing Hermann's concern, the voice continued, "I do not need your form, for I prefer to make my own shape. Smash the crystals with the axe, and I will absorb their energy."
Looking through a narrow gap in the wall, Hermann stared down at gems scattered about on a large table: sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and many other precious stones. One guard moved a ruby onto a green pentagram, sending a ray of red light down into the nearby portal. Soon, beams of many colors began to spiral down into the black circle.
"Are you sure it's safe, Armas?" asked the other guard. "I don't like the way everything seems to flow into that pit. Perhaps we should wait for Nasoj."
"He'll be here in a hour, Terho" replied Armas. "The wizard plans to personally supervise the disposal of Roderic's Bane, so he can be sure it will never come back to this world."
Terho then gazed into the portal, seeing an abyss which seemed to stretch on forever. His eyes felt drawn into the blackness, pulled further and further along. Entranced by the spiralling lights, he looked deeper into the heart of darkness.
In the middle, he saw a huge man who was chained cruelly to a rock, doubled with his head against his knees. Was it one of Nasoj's prisoners? The chain was welded not only to manacles and leg-fetters but also to a thick iron collar.
"Stop that!" ordered Armas sharply.
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help looking. I felt compelled . . ."
"Nasoj doesn't want anyone else to view that place. When you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks back into you. Many things are confined there, ancient things which once had great power and still fester, desiring to take shape again. They could take advantage of . . ."
"I'll just look into the seeing stone," said Terho. "I'm sure the wizard will want a report about Eigird's actions in Caralore."
As Terho picked up the crystal sphere, Armas also peered into it. Mist cleared from the surface of the ball, revealing a picture of city towers surrounded by drifts of deep snow. The guards watched intently, unaware that Hermann was hastily digging above them. Soon, the tunnel entrance would be clear, allowing him to leap down to seize the black axe below.
Far from Nasoj's Citadel, in the empty streets of Caralore, Lowenherz felt uneasy, worried that he might be exposed to his enemies. Nasoj's servants could be anywhere, hidden just behind the next corner. Even worse, the town's garrison was likely to search for intruders.
Lowenherz soon found that his fears were justified, as a soldier armed with a halberd confronted him. "Stop!" barked the guard, pointing the metal spike on his long wooden pole directly forward. "You are arrested, by order of Captain Tolvin. Come with me, now! If you do not comply, you shall be summarily executed as a spy for Metamor."
How had he been identified? Lowenherz wondered if his leonine appearance had been noticed, as his eyes had a feline look during the day, especially when he was nervous. He quickly complied with the guard's orders, as other soldiers arrived.
After a few minutes of marching, the soldiers led Lowenherz to a stone house near the south gate of the city. They abruptly shoved him inside and closed the door. The room seemed very dark, especially after walking through snow-packed streets for miles. However, Lowenherz let his eyes gradually adjust to the darkness, only broken by the light from a shelf of black candles.
A man wearing armor walked forward, "Fortinbras told me that you are from Metamor Keep. Is that true?"
It must be Captain Tolvin, thought Lowenherz, wishing he hadn't entered Caralore with Fortinbras and his cultists. He slowly replied, "I'm a merchant, who arrived -"
"Hardly!" interrupted Tolvin. "No merchant would travel our roads during the middle of the war. Also, I know what you are. Fortinbras used the black arts to reveal your identity."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about."
A grim face appeared in front of the row of candles, staring coldly back at Lowenherz. Tolvin pointed to his comrade's skeletal hand, holding a lock of hair. "As you see, I have evidence, gathered by one of his acolytes this morning. Fortinbras, please show our visitor how we know what he is."
The evil priest dropped a single hair into the flame and laughed. An instant later, a spiral of orange and yellow clouds billowed out into the cold air. As the cloud dissipated into a red haze, a few spots of ash drifted onto Lowenherz, glowing green on his nose.
While Lowenherz brushed the ash away, Fortinbras spoke to Tolvin, "This intruder is clearly a were-manticore. The green aura shows the magic is powerfully bonded to his person. I also sense that he has been within Metamor Keep's radius of enchantment, although he did not stay long enough to become subject to its curse."
"Did the Keepers send you here?," asked Tolvin, glaring harshly at Lowenherz. "Fortinbras reported that they were recently seen in Politzen. It was a small party of Long Scouts, but there may have been others which his scrying spell could not detect."
"I don't follow orders from anyone," replied Lowenherz. "I did come here from Politzen, but not with the Keepers. I can assure you that I'm peaceful."
"Peaceful!" exclaimed Tolvin incredulously. "Fortinbras told me that you slaughtered a whole company of lutins. You didn't even leave their bones behind for the Politzen villagers."
Lowenherz wished that the sun would set soon, so he could attack Tolvin as a manticore. As an unarmed human, he had no chance. Also, he knew Tolvin's soldiers were just outside. Any attack on their captain would be met by prompt retaliation.
"We want information from you," said Tolvin. "In particular, I want to know more about Metamor Keep. Fortinbras is more interested in that place because he claims it's linked to a prophecy, vital to the future of both the gods and daedra."
Looking quickly at Fortinbras, whose eyes glowed red above the candles, Lowenherz asked, "Why do you want me? I thought you didn't worship the daedra."
"Why follow a lesser evil," replied Fortinbras. "The daedra are mere fools! Some day, soon, they will be humbled. The Lightbringer gods shall also be brought low, for it is foretold that Metamor Keep is a place where the mighty shall be broken. But the Nameless One and his servants will remain strong, strong enough to prevail over all!"
"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Lowenherz, perplexed.
"We want to be on the winning side," said Tolvin. "I initially planned to join Lilith's rebellion, but Fortinbras warned me that the Dark Queen's power will not endure. It's somehow tied to Metamor Keep, for that place is a nexus, a spinning wheel which entwines all the threads of reality. It's the place where the deities, both gods and daedra, will be cast down."
"I'll admit that I've been to Metamor, but I only stayed for a short time," said Lowenherz. "I saw the immense destruction wrought by Nasoj's lutins during his winter assault. It was even worse than imagined! As for the gods and daedra, I heard nothing, except about the goddess Akkala, whom I serve. I will never work for your evil wizard!"
"Nasoj is merely human, so he doesn't deserve our loyalty," said Tolvin. "Voivode Eigird is blindly loyal to the wizard, but we will follow whoever has divine support. Even Metamor."
After looking into the flame of a candle, Fortinbras said, "You, as a manticore, are a creature of the night. We only desire for you to serve our master, the Lord of Darkness."
"Never!" shouted Lowenherz. "I won't do it!"
"Eventually, you will change your mind," said Tolvin. "I originally did not approve of Fortinbras and his acolytes, as I still believed in Ba'al. But I now value Fortinbras more than any other advisor. Besides, he's discreet, practicing death magic in a restrained and socially acceptable manner. The Ba'al priests were so messy, leaving blood everywhere!"
Fortinbras then placed a skull in front of Tolvin. Bits of flesh still clung to the bone, with large beetles scurrying in the eye sockets. "Lilith's army will not arrive until afternoon. Thus, we do not need to make a decision until the voivode departs. I assure you that the Nameless One will send his emissary before then, so we shall know what to do."
"Good." said Tolvin. He then opened the door, allowing a group of soldiers inside. He pointed to Lowenherz, who was promptly shackled. "Take him away! Lock him in the dungeon! I'll decide his fate before sunset."
Far away, in a dungeon deep in the lower levels of Nasoj's Citadel, Hermann leaped out of the end of his tunnel. The guards were startled, seeing a flash of white fur fly down from the wall. Terho grabbed his sword, and swung wildly at a black tail near his face.
"There's no escape!" said Terho, grasping the polished hilt of his blade. "Even a weasel like you couldn't dig through solid walls."
Hermann dodged Terho's frantic strikes, intent on grabbing the black axe. Terho pushed forward, glancing at the black portal nearby. "I'll send you into the Outer Void! Anyone who defies our master should be sent to a place of eternal torment." But Terho's fighting skills were rusty, so Hermann easily evaded his lunges.
Armas watched Hermann and Terho nervously, moving a diamond crystal to alert other guards. He then said, "Nasoj himself will be here soon. The wizard will take you to the central hall, where you will be flayed alive, as an example to the other prisoners. You feel pain to an extent that few have experienced."
"Flayed alive?" asked Terho. "I guess the wizard wouldn't want his new ermine robe to have holes in it."
Ignoring the threat of being skinned, Hermann lunged forward. Thrusting his sword down, Terho narrowly missed Hermann's arm, distracted by screams from the staircase above.
"She's escaping! Grab her quickly! Nasoj's wants her back for . . ."
"Aaargh! That bitch nearly ripped my hand off!"
"Kill her! She's too vicious to control!"
A furry shape then shot down the stairs, attempting to run on all fours despite its largely human form. It seemed to be a woman, but one whose exposed flesh was covered in fur like a fox or wolf. Drool dripped from her tongue onto her tattered clothes, for her fanged mouth hung upon as she panted in a canine manner. Forgetting about Hermann, Terho confronted her with his sword, making her quickly retreat into a corner.
Taking advantage of his opportunity, Hermann grabbed the end of the heavy axe. He slowly lifted it, feeling a burst of power. In addition, intense rage filled his mind. As his anger grew, focused on how Nasoj had tortured hundreds in the tower, a red glow filled the air.
"What!" said Terho, surprised that the prisoner was still alive. "How can he wield it? All of the lutins who touched Roderic's Bane died."
As Terho backed away, Armas said, "There is some devilry in the air, which cannot be met by force of arms alone. Nasoj must deal with this, for I sense a dark presence, a nameless horror, hovering over the beast."
Hermann stepped forward, filled with a spirit of malice. He hefted the mighty axe above his shoulders and glared at Armas. Striding forward toward the table, he prepared to smash Nasoj's precious jewels.
As the axe crashed into the wood, splinters scattered in all directions. Armas, who had been standing only a few feet away, jumped into the air, and shot up the stairs. As he left, he shouted to Terho, "Stop him. If he hits the right gems, he could blast a hole in the tower!"
Terho reluctantly remained, tensely gripping his sword. Meanwhile, Hermann maniacally attacked the table's remnants, hewing it again and again with the axe. Shining jewels, and fragments of gems, rolled around the floor, piling up next to the seeing stone.
As Terho attempted to summon the courage to confront the berserk Hermann, a red cloud drifted in the front of the portal. Terho looked at it, transfixed, feeling an evil will fall upon him. Hermann's mind, previously clouded by rage, suddenly cleared, as a voice spoke to him. "Look at the seeing stone and focus on the portal. It is the only way you can escape."
At once, the edge of the axe began to burn Hermann's hands. He ignored the pain, striving to concentrate on the dark globe. As Hermann began to see an image of Caralore, Terho rushed forward, emboldened by Hermann's new focus. The canine woman also approached, padding on all fours to Hermann's side.
After only a few steps, Terho tripped on a shard of crystal. As he slid to the ground, Terho suddenly recalled Armas' warning of an explosion if the gems collided. But it was too late for him. In mere seconds, a blast of magical energy consumed Terho, red mist erupting through the side of Nasoj's tower. Ancient rocks crumbled, plunging down into the lava below.
As the floor collapsed below him, Hermann found that he was hovering in mid air. The lupine lady trembled at his feet, covering her eyes with her furry hands. The portal was still there, suspended high above the bubbling pools of molten rock. Not far away, Hermann saw the intact portion of Nasoj's Citadel, where bowmen standing on a broken staircase were preparing to fire arrows at him.
Before they could shoot, a black cloud swept down over Hermann. He felt drawn into the portal by a powerful force, as the seeing stone plummeted into the opening. Fragments of rock followed, pelting him from every direction. Even worse, he felt intense anguish, as his hands seemed to wither where they contacted the edge of the axe, which now glowed red-hot.
"Let the axe go!" ordered a voice from the inky cloud. "I'll make sure that it travels with us to our destination. Drop it now, or the being inside it will kill you, draining your life force!"
As he entered the portal, Hermann's shriveled hands released their grip on the runic weapon. For an instant, everything was spinning, as he sensed a mixture of flames and smoke encircling his body. The axe and seeing stone sped by him, swirling in the strong wind. He also caught a glimpse of the wolf-woman, trapped deep in the spinning vortex.
After a few minutes, the whirlwind started to wane. Hermann sensed he was no longer in Nasoj's grim fortress, but could tell nothing else. He heard the axe and stone thud as they hit the floor, but could not see them. Only a few dim lights were visible, far away, as if shining from a long row of candles. Then, as the wind died, he hit the ground and everything went dark.
[End of Part Two]