20th of the 11th Epoch, 768 of The First Age
“It has been three days since Marlehaur reported My Lord.” I was expecting this result, if I am being honest. We have sent one of his minions, one that even I met when he was turned, a moon elf who was captured by the remnants of the Northern Kingdom. And while I did say I was expecting this result knowing that Dragon, but still his survival would have been preferable the least. He was one of the better vampires he sired in recent times that managed to rise in power relatively fast compared to most of the others. That was partly the reason I let him be chosen for this mission, hoping that even if most of the forces we sent get annihilated, he would somehow get away.
“That is expected.” My sister standing on the right of me says out loud my thoughts, as usual. I wish she would not, at least at times like these. It always make the others a bit agitated, especially to him who really liked this one for similar reasons to mine. The death of a promising child is always a bitter one as they say in the Empire. “At least we know now the intentions of that lizard, and he may have been a nice addition to our cause, I still think it is better this way. The Gods will now focus themselves on him instead of us.” Once again she says my thoughts out loud. I am really glad to have her at times like these.
Now that the message of the Dragon is clear, in terms of joining us of course, we can alter our plans anticipating that he will make a move soon. I still have an inkling of a bad feeling though. That mountain hoards a lot of sinister things in its deep dark heart, and whatever that Dragon covets it has to be worth it for him to raze a whole two kingdoms to almost complete ruin then set up his Horde to protect him from annoying outside factors like the Empire or the Kingdom both to the south. Or he may expect us to spring into action to take their attention until he gets what he needs. But that won’t happen my scaly friend. I am anticipating that whatever you want from there, it is just as bad for me as it is bad to them if you get it, so I put my hands to gather mockingly and hope that something, most probably a Hero of the Gods will get you before you get your dirty claws on anything you desire in that wretched mountain.
“My lord there is one more thing my spies reported.” His deep raspy voice once again resounds in this dimly lit hall of ours. “Speak” I order him, even though I wish my commands would not be needed for them to continue on. It would really save some time if we would skip on these foolish royal principles. “It has been reported recently, but mostly because the Horde has been not paying much attention to it and seems like they are trying to sweep it under the rug, except for one chieftain that lives near one of the entrances to the mountain.” He starts by saying it like expecting some kind of punishment, not like I would but I won’t correct it, the more we know the better and it is not like his or his agents fault it came late. “A few weeks ago that chieftain was out hunting the remnants of the Moon Elves, and according to them they were chasing one through the Forest of Tyrhna. They managed to corner the moon elf on a cliff side but when they prepared to capture him, an explosion kicked most of them back, killing one of their hunting beasts and one of their according to the reports.” So the elf committed suicide by magical means, that would be my first thought as he finishes but I clearly see on his face that there is something else he just has no idea how to say it. “And then what? If that all would have happened, you would have not reported it didn’t you?” My sister once again says what is on my mind. “Yes, while I try to report as accurately as possibly in this case, all the survivors including the chieftain report differently so to speak. Like they all witnessed the explosion of pitch black darkness that ate away the light and the fabric of reality around itself, spreading a deathly corruption that slowly consumed parts of the cliff side, while some reported seeing a figure in the darkness, some reporting it as featureless, others reporting a skeletal figure, some reporting a weird hybrid of mixed races, mostly elves and dwarves.” He continues on, a visible confusion on what to make of the report appearing on his youngish yet experience riddled face. While this all sounds weird, it intrigues me beyond anything so far for some reason I am not aware of. “What did the Chieftain said?” My sister asks, just as I was about to. “He said…”
***
18th of the 11th Epoch, 768 of The First Age
“I tell you that thing crawling out from the tear was anything but unnatural…no it was abnormal that should never exist, or even come to our world. Its flesh was like made of pitch black darkness that ate away all the light that was around it, it had no face but I felt its cold empty gaze on myself, and heard its hundreds if not thousands of voices speak into my mind in tongues not of this world. And it took the moon elf down into the chasm with itself, it is probably down in the mountain.” I let him finish knowing full well the end of it, after hearing it at least a hundred times since that two weeks it happened. I feel like he is overblowing the whole incident that was all just a desperate moon elves last efforts after making a deal with some demonic entity, nothing more, and nothing less. I’ve seen similar incidents over my lifetime and it is just one of those many. I did tell him when he first reported it to me, I told him that his nightmares and the voices he heard are all part of the spell, a spell that was probably infused with a curse.
“Calm down, it is just the after effects of the curse. Did you visited the shaman in the main camp?” I tell him once again. “Yes, but her concoctions and blessing did nothing to alleviate me from them. They just got more intense Olog-Grai.” Damn it, what a pesky curse. And just at the right time. We were called upon by the The Pentarch of the Nightscale for a mission to eradicate the vampires nesting in the Upper Layer of the Mountain that somehow got in. At least they took care of those crazy Dwarves that were calling upon something according to some of our scouts that were keeping an eye on them. Maybe they have something to do with Vro-Ghakh’s predicament.
“For now the best is if you return home and rest, I’ll deal with the vampires.” Knowing his current condition, he would be more of a deadweight than someone I could bet my life on maneuvering the pathway of the Upper Layer. “That is probably for the best.” He says with a slight hint of gloom in his deep voice, making me feel a bit bad but currently that is for the best. “Just take care my friend, I feel that thing is in there too.” He says to me as he slowly gets up from the carpet with the solemn look on his brutish face. “You know me, if that thing exists it probably is beatable.” I reply jokingly to elevate his mood while I’m slowly standing up, cracking my old knees. “Get well soon, glory still awaits us.” I bid him farewell, locking our arms together and patting him on his back before he leaves through the entrance to my tent.
19th of the 11th Epoch, 768 of The First Age
After seeing him off yesterday with a great feast that my clan tends to hold before we venture down into the holy mountain of the Nightscale, I named the warriors that will accompany me this time, taking more with me than usual partly because Vro-Ghak being absent for this mission. It is a bit annoying I’m not going to lie for two reasons. One is that I’ll have to leave with most of our best warriors, because even if I’m experienced in fighting it will be the first time in my 87 years of life to engage in a battle with vampires, so the defense of our camp will be even lower, and with the ongoing war with the moon elves and being near to the main entrance of the mountain demands a strong defense for the camp to be maintained at all times even with the garrison at the main entrance, monsters get out to hunt at the other smaller side entrances. The second is that before that damned curse he and his warriors were one of the best of our Horde, but many who participated in that hunt are driven completely insane, with a few of them already committed suicide because of the recurring nightmares.
Anyways I had to call for back up from the Pentarch to keep the defense of the camp at the same numbers at least. They are not the best but they will do till we get back from the mission.
20th of the 11th Epoch, 768 of The First Age
After travelling for a day, we reached the entrance of the mountain where the garrison should be, but instead the remains of it welcome our sights. There are a few ruined tents and the remnants of the stone wall shaped like a crescent moon, but there are no signs of corpses anywhere. I wonder was it some kind of monster or maybe the vampires’ retaliation for killing their envoys.
From what I heard they sent some envoys demanding us to join their lord, whoever that is, or the usual else that many have threatened us before the Nightscale took us under his wings. If most of the garrison members got turned, they probably out number us. Unconsciously that makes me smile.
Just for safety measures I order my warriors to search the ruined garrison for any corpses or maybe survivors, just to not demoralize the newbies. Then in the next moment I hear the trampling of a dozen legs from the pitch black darkness of the entrance, where once we built a gate that is now destroyed, the large stone doors lying in front of me.
Within seconds I manage to make out the figures of goblins living in the middle stratum of the Upper Layer running towards us… no running from a humanoid beast with ten arms each adored with claws capable of cutting through armor like leaves, a Dekatoncheires. It slowly catches the goblins, cutting them in two or just separating their heads from their bodies while crushing a few, all while running after them managing to keep up with its muscled long legs, the beast itself reaching almost three-meters in height. One of the more troublesome monsters of the Upper Layer, but nothing our current group of thirty four can’t handle.
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I order them in position, and wait with the final order to take it down till the Dekatoncheires gets close enough to us. When it is a few dozen meters away from us, I give the order and our two mages enchant the arrows of the archers with fire and lightning element spells, firing it at the Dekatoncheires arms, heads and legs at the same time, the goblins thankfully already eliminated by it. The arrows hit precisely, the shock effect stunning the creature, while many of its arms lit up in flames, making it scream in its deep monstrous voice, that is quite headache inducing. For good measures I order one of the spear users to lend me their weapon, and quickly position myself and hurl it towards the Dekatoncheires with as much power as I can without overdoing it aiming for its main, bigger heart in the lower right end of its torso. The spear flies quickly towards the still stunned Dekatoncheires that stopped screaming, the spear making a high ear piercing noise as it cuts the air, then stops piercing the area where its main heart is, killing it finally. For safety measures, me and my two best approach the burning corpse of the creature.
I order one to dislodge the spear, while the other readies its own spear to strike in case the creature just plays dead. These bastards are way cleverer than the ones living outside the mountain. Oysten the one pulling the spear out with his left hand keeps his right on his sword’s hilt just in case, while Ghok-Gru’ul one of the orcs around the same age as me waits patiently, ready to poke the Dekatoncheires if it still lives. But thankfully it doesn’t and when the spear gets pulled out I take it from the hand of Oysten and give it back to Gyda one of the newbies, technically it is still just her second time, but she proved herself the last time to be worthy to bring with myself after taking down an adult basilisk with a well-aimed spear throw quickly enough to not let the creature use its gaze ability.
After we make sure the Dekatoncheires is dead I call the others and we start our descent towards the lair of the vampires, the former dwarven home, a long way to go so I advise the newbies to try not to rush ahead and keep in the middle while the more experienced are spread out around them ready for any monster that would strike from the rear or the front or from the sides. I leave the two mages on the front and back to light our way with their low level light magic. While us the orcs, the centaurs and the ogres have perfect vision in the dark thanks to our creator and patron gods foresight, the humans of the group or not so lucky and they have to rely on some kind of light source to not get lost in the dark twisty pathways of the mountain to get picked on by the monsters living in this Stratum.
We slowly and surely pass by the gruesome scene of the corpses of the goblins killed by the Dekatoncheires and descend further and further into the mountain, still in a territory not controlled by the Dark Elven High Exarch and right hand of the Nightscale. I can still tell hours pass by as we slowly navigate around the paths fit enough for our relatively large group to pass by, a few weaker beasts living in this Stratum attack us in their desperation probably, not having fed for days or weeks, quickly meeting their ends by the hands of my warriors. It is a bit annoying, but that is how things go here, the weak who have to spend most of their time hiding and waiting tend to be driven mad by their hunger, losing their capability to assess the threat of others, leading to this. I much prefer stronger game, but those either live on the Bottom Layer’s Stratums or they are clever and sane enough to avoid our group.
We start descending further into the mountain, the glowing crystal offering some weak light to us and we run into a pack of goblins probably out hunting for food, they tend to hunt in larger groups, there is around 20 of them, almost half of our group. Instead of running away though they ready up for battle and start screaming in their high pitched voices showing they have confidence, most likely because of the shaman of their group and the two hobgoblins that tower over the others, maybe reaching my lower torso while also possessing respectable muscles on their bodies, a sign of their battle experience. To not waste too much time I order my warriors in defensive positions and let our two mages and the archers take care of the pack. Because most of our archers and the two mages are experienced in this, they aim for the two hobgoblins and the lone shaman of the pack, quickly sending them to our shared creators realm, hitting the two hobgoblins in the head with their armors while our mages make sure the goblins get the message, casting fireballs at them that create a small explosion on impact setting some of the wild mountain goblins on fire, sentencing them to a slow grueling death, the shaman not faring better without the knowledge of defensive spells gets taken out by Runa our only female mage in the clan, killed by a shock element spell making the small goblin twitch weirdly as it dies.
After the deaths of the shaman and the two hobgoblins the remaining smaller goblins stop in their advance and start rushing back to their lair. After thinking through, I decide to give the order to follow the panicking goblins back to their home, our group needs to rest for the day. I can no longer tell the passing of the time as we follow after the goblins, the ground trembling as our feet hits the dusty floor of the path, the three centaurs taking down some of the goblins running a few meters ahead of us, then after Gods knows how much time we reach the lair of the pack, the sight of several goblins, some female specimen clearly pregnant welcome our sights, and while I feel bad we don’t have the luxury to leave survivors so I order the group to leave no survivors.
After a quick battle we kill the last of the goblins, only suffering very minor losses, mostly two of the newbies got injured, nothing series just a few smaller crudely designed goblin spears sticking out from their shoulders, arms and legs, nothing serious our mages can’t fix up in a matter of minutes. I let them do it quickly while the others start setting up camp, cleaning the place of the carcasses of the goblins, Yon-Krathy the other mage, an experienced old one at that goes to the piles and with his long years of experience learning the fire element, sets the corpses on fire before their stench would led others here, or in the other case raise them to undeath, not friendly to us even if we are closer to the Stratum controlled by the Dark Elven High Exarch.
We set up the camp for the night or day, and me, one of the centaurs out of the three and one of the mages, Runa start the guard shift for an hour before we change then when we’re done with that we start unpacking the meat we brought with us and start cooking it over the fire the goblins made, fixing it a little bit, the workmanship of the goblins leave a lot to be desired but now it is usable now. After we finish roasting the meat and eat it like we haven’t eaten in days the rest goes to sleep in the goblins tents made of the skin of various beasts they probably hunted down or most likely just found their carcasses with how there are holes in a few that are more of a result of a rotting corpse being skinned compared to an accidental stab towards the fabric.
To pass time we share old glories between the three of us while keeping one of our ears and eyes on the lookout for any noise or shape in the darkness, but our shift goes uneventful besides a few weird noises from the darkness. Then the next shift wakes up and we all bid good night to each other, and that is when a feeling of uneasiness comes over me, the words of my friend Vro-Ghakh flow into my mind instantly, talking about the Thing that may dwell down here, but I quickly hush away them calming a little bit down. As I slowly drift into sleep I feel eyes watching me that are not here…
Post-Chapter Notes:
The Horde:
A strong alliance of 5 larger Clans and many smaller that migrated to the north after the Deadfire or the Nightscale as the Horde prefers to call him, the largest and strongest Black Dragon razed the Northern Kingdom, whom The Horde worships fervently besides some of their patron or creator Gods. Their numbers are mostly made up of orcs and humans, but there are also a ogres, goblins, centaurs and various other lesser races amongst their ranks that were either subjugated by the Horde as they migrated northwards or willingly joined for various reasons with one of those reasons being already worshipping the Deadfire.
The Five Main Clans:
* The Ruadr-Vargrs are one of the main clans living closest to Mount Mount Dhaugrúz led by an old orc, almost a 100 years old which is rare amongst his kind, called Olog-Grai. The clan members mostly include orcs mostly, with almost as much humans and a few hundred centaurs and ogres, while the clan itself excludes goblins thinking they are too weak to join. Their specialty in the Horde itself is their physical prowess and their knowledge of the mountains pathways, at least in the Upper Layer.
* The Bál-Su’urthr the leading clan led by the Pentarch of the Deadfire himself, an orcish mage with magical prowess rivalling those of the elves in the Empire down in the south, and the so called left hand of the black dragon Deadfire itself carrying the “blessing” of the dragon itself. The clan is a large mix of orcs, humans and the lesser races of the Horde. Their specialty besides leading the Horde members into battles and hunts, is that this clan has the highest amount of mages amongst them.
* The Hlátr-Scaelu a clan led by the largest werewolf in the North or even the world, also infamous for destroying many of the moon elven settlements in the North, rarely leaving behind survivors which often puts him in odds with the much merciful Vro-Ghakh, leader of the Hvitr-Ha’ygr. The Hlátr-Scaelu specialty is in the hunt, excelling in tracking and battles waged in the forests. The clan itself is mostly made up of orcs and humans cursed by lycanthropy and a few others of the lesser races of the Horde.
* The Hvitr-Ha’ygr as mentioned before is led by the merciful Vro-Ghakh who much prefers leaving as many as survivors, believing that if the Horde will settle down here it is better to have less vengeful neighbours than the Empire or the Kingdom to the south who they have a bad history with. Their specialty is their battle prowess, whenever a battle is fought, be it in open fields or sieging a city, the Hvitr-Ha’ygr are the first to be called on. Their name meaning White Hollows comes from the white paint they use made from special herbs and enchanted by their shamans enhances their powers beyond their natural physical strength, allowing the strongest of theirs to destroy stone walls with ease.
* The Dhau-Íssz is the smallest and newest of the clan, mostly made up of worshippers of the Deadfire that joined the Horde as they emigrated to the north, following after the destruction of the accursed dragon. They are made up of all kinds of races, even some elves can be found amongst their numbers, and while the other clans behave like one, the Dhau-Íssz resembles a death cult living amongst some of the settlements of the Horde, while some live in the ruins of the burned down cities razed by Deadfire. Their leader is a Dark Elf Necromancer that lives deep in Mount Dhaugrúz, the so called High Exarch of the Nightscale, his right hand and disciple according to some rumors.