Chapter Four: Heretics

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Depths below a cavern shook, an ominous void swallowed all, swirling the vortex dwelled at center most point. Quaking earth in each rotation, walls lined in foreign tongue, statues of unknown metal were erected adorned with obscuring cloaks and great-swords. Gold-like fire erupted, the six eerie statues watched with diligence, evenly apart nothing escaped from their gaze. Reflections from above shone as the stone ceiling rippled like that of water flashing a twinkling night sky. Seemingly invoked, the each statue gaze went aflame, a deep hum encompassed the cavern, in unison the statues gleam subsided to a oppressive lull as disembodied voices spoke in hoarse tones.

"..Ultimately it has come." ..

"Taste of the Erthina sickens..." The vortex flashed, as the night sky above distorted to moving figures surrounded by smoke.

"They are in place.... Take stock the tear nears us."

...

Somewhere concealed to mortal men, a rickety town bellowed, erected in a forest like grave. A forest of death. Screams and despair emanated from the town's walls but no salvation came, all in desperation. Lingering above a thin translucent bubble surrounded the area sealing those within, its luster. Entranced in the spree, with vigor a broad claymore thrust through his chest. Slitting the man's spine entrails hung like a skirt, crimson blood began to spill, dripping from the blade's tip impaling this meager peasant's life cut short. Gasping breaths of sorrow were his legacy, dulled eyes lifeless reflecting the man whom butchered him. Mourning cries drenched the atmosphere, bodies scarred, impaled and bleeding strewn innards masked the cobbled walkway its cracks brimming with left over flesh.

Moonlight swayed overhead, beaming rays showcasing the massacre clearly on display in the recesses of night. None would sleep soundly tonight, hundreds of the townsfolk disposed of in towering piles.

The stench of decay wafted, followed by unsettling crackling submerging those near. Pillars of flame, a raging inferno engulfed these discarded, deceased scorching their bodies charring them black. It was an ominous fire piercing skies above, far surpassing the treetops. A multitude of men basked in the carnage, some with ashen expression's others seemingly elated at this sight. Flames shone in their eyes, striking like daggers glancing over the surrounding twitching rabble still beneath their feet bleeding out. Similar to a second skin, they were outfitted in full clad armor stained sable tri-slit helmets the gaudy armor boasted thick layers of protection. Yet they moved nimble, a emerald sheen radiated from the seams.

Standing at their epicenter of destruction, saturated in blood a stark contrast to the other men without a helmet ebony hair laid slick back. A visage lacking sympathy, more apathy settled lying upon his eyes witnessing all before him. burning corpses, stacked mindlessly women, children and men didn't deter his gaze, beneath him a young man- A deceased cur laid it's spine split in half this thing no longer amongst the living, daring to breathe the same air. A broad claymore skewered him, "Vile, I need to wash off this filth, these heretics dared to resist... They'll repent in fiery brimstone, knowing wickedness of their ways in bowels of the underworld." Jabaloth sneered at the corpse before him in contempt.

Jabaloth reached for his claymore, tearing it from the peasant's spine. "Hmph.."

hard snapping emanated from the damned, more bones shattered from this action, if the dead could feel pain he'd be in eternal anguish. Blood and other bodily fluids trickled down the blade, dancing along its surface painting it a deep scarlet. "Even in death they stain my image, this putrid being didn't deserve the taste of my steel, yet it was his salvation." With scorn Jabaloth ran his blade into flame, cleaning it from the muck that had tarnished it quickly boiling. Once the blade had shone its glimmering luster, pristine with no grime Jabaloth slid the claymore once more into his hilt. Placing his hand on the swords pummel nearing waist level, standing with vigilance looking over the destruction he had brought. A slight smile surfaced on his face.

Metallic footfalls came behind Jabaloth, encroaching near the set of movement stopped. "Sir, Richnell reporting' Quickly the man kneeled accompanied by two others, "The slate has been wiped clean, repenting for sins in holy flame all eligible vessels are loaded onto the carriages." Richnell's stoic expression burned, showing reverent gaze his breathing ragged. Jabaloth turned, facing specifically Richnell who started to profusely sweat, "Clear thought's of temptation." Jabaloth swayed one's head, like that of scolding a child's ignorance. Resting his hand upon Richnell, it's cold sensation caused shivers to run down Richnell, "Rot spreads, infection to the entire batch, these cur harbored-- Mediated, heretics they themselves became."

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Jabaloth forced his hand, Richnell under his embrace was thrusted downward with a mouth full of dirt. Jabaloth's face was ashen, watching the twitching man before him, "Free yourself" Now crouching Jabaloth released his hand, "I-ll Accept punishment, in the name of our Lord." Towering over the man Jabaloth, pondered for a moment before gesturing to the other knights. "Take him to be re-educated."

"Repent for your transgressions" Parting the knights dragged Richnell, from whence they came. Soon soft vibrations emanated from within Jabaloth's breastplate, similar to buzzing it pulsed in succession. Feeling this he pulled out an item, within his gauntlet sat a mysterious sphere, in its core a shadow resided constantly fluctuating, warping, folding on itself from the darkness, a cobalt glow emanated. At the spheres base steel legs laid, metal mesh was woven between the tiny studs. A peculiar voice echoed from the core's glow.

Seeing this spectacle unfold within the sphere Jabaloth kneeled, hand over his chest with a determined expression, intently gazing through the orb's obscurity. Rapidly the shadows converged merging inside the cobalt glow, a cloaked figure unveiled itself distorted within the hazy core its face was masked. Additional plumes of smoke shrouded the figure leaving it an enigma. "You've done well Jabaloth, the eradication of those devils pleases our Lord Kesh you honor his name."

"It's only but my duty as a servant of lord's will.' What needs be done? ... "A disturbance, a moving force of negative energy surges from a different cloth of mage-art. To a chain of landmass to the south toward the coast. Finish what must be done here, do not let this force interfere with our plans... Use what you deem necessary..." The figure faded as did the orb's glow Jabaloth placed it once more in his breastplate, turned to the lighting bonfire "Erect crosses for those still bleeding we need to show the onlookers!" A uncanny smile spread as Jabaloth spoke, the knights saluting, collected thee soon to be dead ready to be nailed.

...

Thallow's Den,

Rustling, a precarious itch with mind of its own under the skin. Moving, shifting at the lightest touch- My senses prickled unable to hone the source of my discomfort. The coffin lid shook, with bated breath I couldn't pull away, stirred by me? A depth of fear, depths of an unknowable answer filled my heart. Crumbling of stone the ear wrenched sounds of grinding a weight no normal man could move gradually churned as the imagination raced with cruel possibility.

Then I woke, bed boards creaked as my back ran slick with sweat. The dark room seemed taunting, moon cast long shadows as I watched on in the night's solitude- The window blew open, gusts of wind shook me from bed, my mind caught up as I latched the window... I latched the window. Alarms rang, hair rose on my arms glancing to the dagger lying on the dresser. I lunged, turning in hand dodged a long pole shifting through the dark my mind raced, two figures moved their outlines coming clearer as eyes adjusted. Negotiations were long off the table, thieves? something told me they weren't here for a chat... Thankfully I was still dressed.

With a thud closer one hit the floorboards shattering wood, smiling wide. Someone else, a flash of light lit off behind me, I turned to move but my legs refused, like quicksand had me rooted a weakness settled as light faded with a prick on my neck. The same man laughed, bastard. He came close my vision swirled as pain hit my temple I drew to the dripping falling to one knee; my own blood sliding down the iron pole, words came out empty an invisible force sucking air from my lungs.

"... Must I do everything?" a low voice spoke from behind as I lost footing- My emotions doing little but stir.

Like a switch the unwelcome guests moved, disregarding me as they pulled bed covers, rummaged the dresser tearing any scrap not nailed down. The duo murmured as one approached, kicked me to the side, ears thumped but I still heard the faint chuckle of the man as he pulled my waist satchel and grasped his hand around my necklace. A magic binding, poison? No matter how much I yearned to move, I met refusal still limp desperately I tried, tearing my sight from the duo toward the one behind with fruitless effort.

"Pissan't, not worth all much are you?" The man spoke dangling the glowstone from my face, his cracked teeth and fidgeting eyes all gave me the impression of a rat. Then the man reared his foot.