Sally was no longer confined to the cells of Surdon. Now she was confined to one of the tallest towers, a tower in relatively good condition that gave her unimpeded view over the snow covered lands of the dead Kar Kingdom. She was not cold as a fireplace had been provided, a small flickering flame with a large stack of dry, chopped wood beside. Sally could not bear to bring herself to look too closely, otherwise she would see the teeth and claw marks.

“What am I doing?” Sally leant against the wooden railing, resting her head on the cold glass window. Her breath fogged the glass. She rubbed it away and almost smiled. “Just…”

Sally held her mouth as she threatened to vomit. While she was safe the rest of her village, a small Graterian border village called Soulthor, was being brutalised in ways she knew she could not imagine.

That’s not entirely true. All the men are dead…

She thumped her head onto the glass once more. “Maybe I should just throw myself off this tower? At least I won’t have to see this anymore.”

As Sally’s hand reached for the door to the outside balcony something held her back. A thought, a spark of defiance. She knew that these cultists were mad, utterly insane, and wished to bring about the end of the world as they knew it. And, judging by Mihal’s enthusiasm they might actually be able to do it. Controlling the Goblins was proof enough for her.

“Most of this city is wood…I wonder how quickly it could burn? If it gets hot enough…Mother mentioned roof pitch-”

“Sally!” A cheery young voice called from behind the locked door. “Are you there?”

Sally took a slow, deep breath. In another life, another time, she and Mihal would probably be good friends. But here, she didn’t know what they were.

“Of course I’m in here.” Sally bit her lip. Sounding snide and acting rude was the last thing she needed to do. If she annoyed Mihal enough she would no longer be under his protection, whatever that really meant. Regardless, it was the only thing keeping her alive. “The door’s locked-”

The metal lock clicked and the door slowly swung open. Mihal stood on the other side, smiling happily as he held the large iron key in his hand. Despite the cold and snow continuing to increase he wore surprisingly little. His hands had not turned pale nor did he shiver from the cold.

Is whatever they’re doing to him making him like that?

“They let me have this.” He walked happily to the centre of the room. “Said that I’m the only one they trust to keep you safe…It’s really warm in here, you know? Climbing up that tower isn’t fun.” Mihal laughed as he approached the fire and outstretched his hands to catch the rising heat. “The stone makes it really cold. But this? This makes it all worth it.”

“Really?” Sally moved to the fireplace. “Just for the fire?”

“Not really.” Mihal smiled. “I just wanted to see you.”

In another place…

“Oh. There is something.” Mihal clapped his hands together. “They’ve just opened the vaults underneath the castle. It took them a long time but that witch…What was her name? Elu…Something. Anyway, she helped them get through the last of the magical locks.”

Mihal gently rubbed his temple. “She said they were annoying at best and that Ghenadie should have been able to get through it by himself.”

Those two do not like each other. Is…Can something happen there? Not much I could do. They both dislike me.

“I’m sure your grandfather would have been able to figure it out sooner or later.” Sally forced her hand to stop shaking as she patted Mihal’s head, something he took greedily. “He was probably just focusing on something else, something more important.”

Mihal nodded. “Yeah. He’s been ordering construction of something…Said that the vault is the perfect place to put it.”

Sally looked at Mihal’s stomach, where the tattoos of the silvery metal had been made.

“And redesigning the city.”

“Oh? What is he doing there?” Sally tried to act as innocently as possible.

Mihal shrugged. “I’m not sure. But he was building a lot of things within the inner wall. I know the Goblins weren’t happy to have all of their home torn down in the middle of winter but they’re getting better ones now.”

“Well…That’s good.”

If they’re all in the middle and a big enough fire gets going then maybe, just maybe, it could do some damage.

Sally glanced to the north.

But I really need to get out of here and find this other city. They need to know what’s happening.

She glanced back at Mihal, already warming his hands once again.

And maybe they can stop whatever madness is happening here.

---[]---

Mihal happily skipped down the stone spiral stair case, down from Sally’s tower towards the bottom most layer of the castle. Sally watched in silence as she followed closely. It would only take a single push and Mihal wouldn’t stop until he reached the bottom, but something in the back of her mind told her that she would be a replacement for Mihal if anything went wrong, probably the only reason why Ghenadie allowed her to live freely. Sally shuddered at the thought. Her pausing for a single moment was enough for Mihal to turn back and look, while continuing to walk down the steps.

Just one push…

Sally smiled and continued walking. A clanging began to echo throughout the stone stairway. Soulthor was a small border town but it had a smith. She remembered hearing the banging of metal and this war far, far louder. Sally stopped at the door where the sound of metalworking was loudest. Mihal only realized that she was not by his side when his head had almost disappeared around the corner. He pouted and groaned dramatically but still happily returned to her side.

"What are you looking at?" Mihal asked in a whisper.

"I didn't think you had Smiths...Inside the castle."

"Oh. Ghenadie spoke with one of the Reds and they had some brought in here. I don't know much about it myself but they were saying that it would be easier...No. That's not the right word." Mihal lightly slapped his temple. "Efficient. That was the word. Efficient."

The door was not locked so Sally easily pushed it open. What was once a loud muffled clanging became so loud that Sally winced at the pain. When she opened her eyes again she almost stumbled back. Six Black Goblins, their skin as dark as the night, patrolled along a line of glowing forges. Smaller Greens stoked to fires and worked in teams to work mighty bellows to keep the fires red hot. Blue and Purple Goblins rammed pieces of steel into the coals, snarling and jabbering at one another, always appearing to be on the verge of snapping and killing one another.

"M...Mihal?" Sally made sure he was closer before peering in once again. "Why are they blue and purple?"

"Hmm?" Mihal moved close and looked underneath her arm. "Oh. The Blue Goblins can use magic. Not a lot but only they can. And they're pretty smart. Not as smart as me..." Mihal coughed to dispel some redness creeping up his cheeks. "So they know how to use the Forge properly. The Purples? I really don't like them, Sally. Something about them just makes me feel odd."

You can actually feel disgust when you look at these things?

Sally looked in again. While the Blue Goblins looked normal, about the size of a Yellow, the Purple Goblins looked more human. If such a thing was possible. However their lips were always curled up into a sneer. None of the others looked like them.

A pairing of Blue and Purple finished hammering at a sword and thrust it into a waiting bucket of water. Sally knew very little about weapons but the edge did not look sharp. Either they would sharpen it later or it would simply be used to bludgeon their enemies. They drew the blade out and idly tossed it into a container to their side, the sword clanged loudly as it fell onto a pile of loose metal.

At the far end of the room a pair of Goblins approached, one Red and the other Black. Sally immediately knew something was wrong. The Black Goblin was exceptionally large, almost as tall as an adult, with muscles to match. However it looked very stupid. It's mouth hanged open slightly as a thin strand of drool ran down its lips. The Red had a diminutive arm that lay locked against its side. It would be useless in battle, and for any other activity, but it held an air of superiority. The other Goblins shied away as it passed, not wanting to be the one to receive its gaze.

"Did that happen in battle?" Sally asked.

"I don't think so. That Red Goblin is really, really smart. But...I think it was born like that. Must have been tough for him." Mihal looked up at Sally. "They don't like babies being born with deformities."

What a terrible race.

The Red and the Black stopped by the Blue and Purple pair that had just finished. It chittered something to the Black, who picked up the sword. He swung it back and forth before the Red chittered again. Without any change in its dumb face it brought the sword down onto the edge of the forge, shattering the sword cleanly into two.

The Blue and Purple looked very worried as the Red began to scream at it, pointing at them, then to the red hot fire. The Greens and Yellows stoking the fire did their best to pretend everything was fine.

"I think we should go." Mihal's warm hand tugged on Sally's. "We aren't supposed to be here anyway. And that Red looks pretty angry."

Mihal touched the amulet dangling around his chest. "I don't think even this will be enough to get him to listen."

It would be so easy to rip that off your neck and throw it at them. But...What good would that do? I'd be killed too, and no one would warn the people to the north what is coming for them.

Sally smiled and followed Mihal down the stairs, the Red's screaming echoing down the winding stone staircase.

“I think it’s just one more down.” Mihal said happily. Despite the enormous distance they had travelled he did not appear to be tired. Quite a strange thing. “Then I can show you all the awesome stuff we found down there.”

“Gold and jewels?” Sally asked. “If this is an old capital that’s what they’ve have in their vault. Right?”

“Oh there’s lots of that.” Mihal smiled. “But there’s some other stuff down there too. Things I don’t understand. I hope that you can make more sense of it than me.”

Sally gripped her hands tight and followed the insane young boy.

As the staircase ended and led to a single door Sally saw the first other people than Mihal. These were adult cultists, all belonging to The Ancient Listeners. Sally despised them all, especially the way they proudly held their amulets on their chest. She had managed to extract from Mihal, through innocent questions, that without them they would be attacked. One of the reasons why Sally dared not explore Surdon without Mihal by her side.

“Oh…You brought her?” One of the adult women asked. Sally didn’t know why but the cold way they spoke gave her chills. The only ones that spoke normally were Mihal and Ghenadie, but they didn’t speak about normal things.

“Of course I did!” Mihal pouted. “She’s my friend. And I don’t want her not to see this stuff. Where else is she going to see such wonderful paintings?”

You brought me here to look at paintings? Well…Better than being in that tower, I suppose.

“When we march of Graterious and Qaiviel we will have much better things to see.” The cultist almost smiled. “Far better things.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Okay…” Mihal shrugged, turned to Sally and offered his hand. “Come on. They won’t bother you if you’re with me.”

The moment Sally’s fingers touched his skin she recoiled. Mihal frowned and tilted his head.

“Your skin is burning.” Sally hesitantly touched it again. “Are you sick? Only someone sick has skin so hot.”

“I don’t feel sick.” Mihal held his cheeks, pressing his hands hard against his face. “They don’t feel warm either. Maybe you’re just cold. That always makes things feel hotter.”

“That…That is true. But I think you’re still very warm. Especially on such a cold day.”

A male cultist scoffed. “Do not pester him with your useless thoughts. He has far greater ambitions than idly discussing heat with you.”

Mihal stuck out his tongue and took Sally’s hand once more. Through the long corridor Sally counted at least a hundred cultists, all gathered before the massive white metalled vault door and carrying crudely fashioned boxes. They held each box like their life depended on it. Despite their general annoyance at Sally’s presence they moved far away when she walked through, their normally cold eyes nervously flicking to the boxes.

“What are they carrying?” Sally asked.

Mihal stopped abruptly, spun to face the nearest cultist and stomped his foot. “What’s in the box?”

“Forgive me.” The cultist bowed his head until it touched the wooden frame. “But Ghenadie bade us not to tell anyone of our purpose. And that includes you.”

“See?” Mihal scoffed and continued walking. “They don’t tell me anything. One day they will, I’m certain of it.”

As they approached the vault door Sally grew increasingly worried. The metal had been ripped apart by some unimaginable force. Standing to one side she saw Ghenadie and the witch woman, Eluria. She made every effort to not make eye contact, something that was reciprocated. Despite that something was different about her. There was little anger radiating from her, unlike normal. Sally didn’t know exactly why she joined these cultists but whatever it was it was no longer the driving force it once was. Regardless she dared not look any longer lest the witch’s attentions fall upon her.

Flickering torches illuminated the massive vault, the interior was far larger than anything Sally had expected. Wooden shelves contained rows upon rows of chests. The few cultists that were already inside, with their disgusting Goblin lackeys, were busy hauling them towards the centre of the room and then out. A Goblin nearly dropped it underneath the weight and was severally beaten for its mistake, but Sally caught a glimpse of the gold and jewels that were literally bursting out.

“How much wealth did these people have?” Sally whispered.

Mihal stopped one of the Goblins. It sneered and snarled at Mihal but did not try and attack, nor did it drop its chest. Sally knew that it wanted to kill Mihal, even more than its next breath. Mihal ignored it and pulled out a fistful of gold and precious gems.

“Here you go.” Mihal casually dropped the heavy bundle of wealth into her hands. “You can have as much as you want. I’m sure Ghenadie wouldn’t mind.”

“But…You can’t…”

No. Don’t get too angry or upset with them. They’re going to do it regardless of whether or not I’m here. All I can do is learn and pass that on.

“Are they just going to sell these for gold?” Sally asked. “So you can buy tools and metal?”

“Metal?” Mihal cocked his head.

“Those…Goblins, they cannot wear armour intended for humans.”

“No they cannot.” A shiver ran down Sally’s spine as Ghenadie spoke loudly. She looked back and was glad to see the Witch was not with him. “But buying iron ore is relatively expensive. We can just mine it here. Iron ore is one of the most common metals, unlike Chelium or Bosciycium. Or Adamantium.”

He nodded to the door. “We do not have the capacity to smelt or even work such metal. That is the realm of the Dwarves, and will long be beyond our reach.”

“Do you intend to attack the Dwarves one day?”

Sally did not know where the Dwarves lived, or even what they looked like. Her father had explained they were squat humans with large beards that could work metal as a child better than a master smith. Sally doubted that was true but they were always spoken of in revered tones.

“Perhaps…If that is what the Ancient Gods will.” Ghenadie smiled. “Humans have caused them the most pain, them and the Wood Elves.”

Keep him talking.

“Are there not Wood Elves to the south? If you are in the former Kar Kingdom I’m sure there’s one in that direction.”

“Yeah.” Mihal nodded seriously. “I remember someone saying something like that.”

Ghenadie pulled an annoyed face, like he didn’t want Mihal to know of such things. “There is. But unlike the human kingdoms and empires to our north they are extremely strong and organised. It will take all of our forces to destroy them. And…” His eyes focused on Mihal’s stomach, where the silver tattoos were focused. “And I believe that we will need more direct guidance. Their Goddess holds tremendous power. If we were to attack foolishly she could simply command the forests to attack us. Not to mention the Wood Elves have had generations to prepare and train. There is no way that one would fall to even a hundred Goblins.”

“Wow…” Mihal’s face brightened. “I want to see one! They sound so…Awesome! Imagine an Elf, swinging a sword and shooting a bow.”

Mihal began to exaggeratedly imitate how he thought a Wood Elf would fight.

“It would be dangerous but I really, really want to see one.”

“In time.” Ghenadie ruffled his hair. “In time. But why are you two down here? We are continuing construction but we still have some time before the next stage of the ritual.”

“I snuck in before and saw some of the paintings.” Mihal explained. “They looked beautiful. Have you gotten rid of them already? I wanted to show Sally…She doesn’t have much to do up in that tower.”

“I don’t see why not.” Ghenadie waved to a passing cultist. “Accelerate the construction. Right now. Bring in as many Goblins as you need. Just get this place cleared. Now.”

The cultist nodded and hurriedly left. Ghenadie pointed to the far wall of the vault. Four Goblins mulled about, idly picking at the chests they had allowed to fall. Ghenadie tapped his boot, the four suddenly became alert and hurried about their business.

“Wow…” Sally was lost for words when she finally saw the paintings.

They were huge works of art, easily nine or twelve feet tall and twenty wide, each showing a majestic scene in their own right. Several were of beautiful rolling hills and grasslands, others titanic battles between massive armies. She approached one and peered extremely close. Nearly every brush stroke looked as if it was purposefully planned and handled with care.

“Who made these?” Sally asked when she realised she had not spoken for some time.

“I do not know.” Ghenadie softly replied. “The Kar Kingdom fell long before we arrived, and these were commissioned well into their reign. But I am impressed that these have survived in such good condition for so long.”

“So what are you going to do with them?”

And why are you suddenly being so nice to me?

“Most we will have to sell.” Ghenadie tried to placate a shocked Mihal. “We will need all the money we can get. And collectors will buy these are extremely high prices.”

Not that money matters to you if you want to destroy the world. If anything you’ll be able to get your money back.

“We’ll keep this one.” Mihal pointed to a slightly smaller painting, smaller being subjective, depicting a siege of a human castle by a mixture of humans, reptile people and Orcs, at least that’s what Sally thought the large green humanoids were. “This one is so…There’s a lot going on in the painting.”

“There is.” Ghenadie nodded. “Alright. I don’t see a problem with that. That won’t be a problem-”

“Ghenadie!” A cultist called out. “We have an issue.”

Ghenadie clicked his tongue and walked over as quickly as his old, arthritic legs would allow.

“Why do you want to keep any of these?” Sally asked. A part of her wanted to lecture him about what the funds would go towards, how many innocent people, like her town, would suffer as a result. But he, and the rest of the cult, didn’t see it that way. “They do look good. But...”

“I think it looks good.” Mihal smiled. “But I wanted you to have it. There’s not much to see from that tower. Everything’s covered in snow and…That’s about it for hundreds of miles. Not to mention you can’t go into the city itself, not that there’s a lot to see in there anyway.”

“No…No there isn’t.”

Perfect time to try to gather some more information.

“Mihal?”

“Yes?” He trotted closer. Sally found it strange how quickly his emotions could change.

“The houses in the central ring. For the Goblins. Do they have anything that they use to keep their rooves together?”

“Rooves…Together?” Mihal chuckled nervously. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

“Do they use tar or pitch to make them waterproof? If they don’t they’ll get soaked when the snow starts to melt.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. I think they have…” A loud clunk behind them caught Mihal’s attention. “Yeah. The black stuff. I don’t think the Goblins like using it, but Ghenadie and the others had them use it to cover the rooves. There was a whole bunch in one of the warehouses, just sitting there. Can you imagine that? After all this time there are just barrels and barrels of it sitting there and it’s still good? Amazing stuff.”

“Yes…Yes it is.”

Now I just need to find if they’ve got any more, start a big fire that’ll rip through the city and escape to the north. A horse might be able to get through the snow…At the very least they’ll be faster than a Goblin. Even if I have to trudge through it myself.

“Where-”

As Sally was about to inquire about horses the clunks became louder. Mihal kept Sally close as they approached the source of the sound, Mihal kept them behind one of the partially empties stacks and leant around.

The cultists had placed one of their crudely made boxes onto the ground. Her hands shook as she prepared to open the box.

“If it’s just a box…”

Another cultist pried the wooden walls free. Sally was a little surprised they were so worried over a metal statue, really a large needle with a donut shaped well around the base. As she continued to look she quickly realised it was not made from just some metal but the liquid silver she had touched during her first day in Surdon. Memories of the momentary contact came back, the overwhelming anger and pain.

All of those boxes…But what for?

Sally nudged Mihal’s side. He glanced back, Sally glared at the metal piece.

“I don’t know.” Mihal said softly. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Ghenadie emerged through the crowed, looking quite pleased with himself. “Make sure they are properly situated. If they are not in the correct position do not remove the wooden protective frame. Remember not to touch them under any circumstances. I think you all know why.”

All of the cultists nodded in unison. One pointed to the dozens of wooden shelves.

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll all be gone before the end of the day. The Goblins will see to that.”

Without a further word the cultists began to bring their crates in. One cultist near the ruined door held up a piece of paper, another halted each of the cultists and gave them a very specific order.

“Has to be precise. But…”

Sally did not ask her question. She already knew what these crazy people were planning to do.

“Mihal? Could you ask your grandfather what this is? And don’t tell him that I asked. Pretend that I’m not even here.”

“Why?”

Sally faintly smiled. “Because I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“I think he does.” Mihal quickly approached Ghenadie. “He just has a strange way of showing it.”

That is so not true.

“Ghenadie.” Mihal spoke with a childlike, curious tone. “What are you doing?”

Ghenadie smiled. “Simply preparing the next step of the ritual. We need somewhere safe and secure, somewhere no one will be able to get us.” The elderly man smiled. “If someone disrupts us during this stage it will be extremely bad for us.”

“Right…” Mihal stepped closer to the metal spikes. Ghenadie barred him with his hand. “But what does it do?”

“In time.” Ghenadie ushered him back. “But I can assure you, you will be very interested in what happens here.”

When he says that…

Mihal shrugged and returned to Sally. Sally expected Ghenadie to glare at her, like he normally did, but he did nothing but smile, not even as an attempt to hide his displeasure. That made Sally even more nervous.

“I don’t know what it is.” Mihal dramatically sighed. “But there that ring thing at the bottom is like a big cup. Oh, and there’s a channel running down the length to collect something from the top of the spike.”

“We can’t spare a single drop…” A nearby cultist tried to offer his opinion as he carried his crate. A quick glare from everyone around silenced him.

A single drop of what? Blood?

Sally looked again at the spikes. If someone was impaled upon them their blood would be collected. But an adult human would have too much for the donut ring at the bottom, and Sally was sure that she was the only child left from her village. A goblin walking past caught her eye. They were small enough to fill the donut.

But why them? What’s so important about those disgusting things blood?

The cultists quickly began to fan out amongst the dimly lit shelves and place their boxes down. Each contained another spike, all glistened in the flickering torchlight.

Ghenadie isn't going to tell us what the next stage of this ritual is. He didn't tell Mihal he was going to put those tattoos on him. I cannot do anything but watch and listen. I can't even ask Ghenadie about the pitch and tar. He's crazy, but it wouldn't take him long to work out what I'm thinking.

Sally's eyes were drawn to a group of four cultists dragging in a much larger crate than the others. The wood was just as ramshackle but she knew it was something very important. It was carefully moved to the center of the vault as the empty shelves were torn apart to make room.

"Oh." Mihal began to clap. "I think I know what this is."

Sally did not know if he was trying to impress him or he genuinely knew. The cultists removed the wood and almost basked in the radiance of what lay inside. It was little more than a solid flat block, except a large bowl lay embedded in the middle. From that bowl hundreds of fine grooves covered the surface, spreading out in strange shapes and patterns.

"Our most important relic." Mihal spoke with pride. "Something that has been with us from the very beginning. It is an altar where Gods and their Avatars can be reborn. I've never seen it myself but I'm told it needs a lot of blood and a large sacrifice."

Sally's body tensed. She knew Ghenadie had kept her alive for some reason but never expected to actually see it. The cultists began to place metal implements onto the surface: knives, a series of long chained shackles and other restraints but one looked like it was designed to be inserted and spread something wide.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Mihal smiled. "You're a strong girl. Like me...Well, not a girl. But strong! Right?"

Sally didn't hear his words. Her mind had simply stopped working, only her terrified screams echoed throughout her head.

"Sally? Are you okay?"

"I..." Sally managed to hold herself together. "I actually don't feel that good. It...It must be the air down here. It doesn't make me feel good."

"Yeah. It is kind of musty down here." Mihal shrugged lightly. "And I really only wanted to show you the paintings. I'm so happy that we got to see them all before Ghenadie sold them. Then I'd only be able to tell you about them, and I don't think I could do a good job at that."

Sally smiled again as Mihal led her out, holding her with his hot hand. She looked back to Ghenadie and a small gathering of cultists. Ghenadie smiled back but Sally only saw evil I'm his eyes.

"I think a walk outside would do me some good." Sally said as they neared the stone spiral staircase. "And, I know what you can do."

"What's that?" Mihal spoke as excitably as ever.

"Remember what I was talking about earlier? The tar and pitch?"

"Yes. The stinky black stuff. I remember." Mihal nodded thoughtfully. "I remember."

"How about." Sally walked by Mihal's side, something he clearly did not expect her to do. "How about you show me where all of that is kept? That'll make me feel better. I'm sure of it."

Mihal's smile widened as he led them faster up the staircase. Sally gripped his hand tighter, he didn't know what she intended for them.