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Watching as Gauldryon turned into a fiery beacon of light, Daria couldn’t help but feel a touch of sadness. This was not how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to fight this battle together. To die together, if that is what fate had decreed. But as she gazed at the wreckage left behind by the paladin, why instead did she feel shame?
Her head turned back to face her companions, she saw the same look upon Glindol’s scrawny hide. The old wrinkled gnome in his singed blue robes, shook his head from side to side. “I’m afraid that Gauldryon may be lost to us now. There is another presence within him, and I sense its fiery rage like a river of molten lava. He has all the signs of possession.”
Her mouth dry as it struck her what that could mean, she found herself unable to breathe, before she screamed, “No! You’re wrong! He saved us!” But as the tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks, she remembered the look in Gauldryon’s fiery blue eyes as he glared down at her. There had been no warmth, no comfort, simply white-hot rage, and the terrifying fear that boiled inside of her. Feeling a comforting hand upon her shoulder, she found Tileya on one side of her, and Pelwar on the other. “Don’t you worry, lass, we will find a way to get him back. Now let’s not be dawdling here, there’s no telling how far ahead of us he is now.”
And despite the doubt, she heard in his voice, she felt comforted. If there was a way to save him, they would seek it out, they just needed him to be okay. With tears still pricking her eye sockets, they followed the trail of death and destruction that Gauldryon had left behind, and at the back of her heart, she too began to fear it might be too late for him.
~*~
Finding the Ungraven Road easily enough after passing through the archway, Gregor examined the ancient walls. Made up of some type of dark bluish-hued stone, it again had more swirls carved into its surface, along with runes that glistened with imperceptible magic. The road itself was a smooth unblemished surface of polished white stone that stretched out before them for many miles.
Carrying a burning torch he had found in the chamber behind him, he kept one hand on his greatsword as he slowly walked forward. Kira, however was more curious than she was afraid, studied the walls and runes, which upon closer inspection, revealed words written in an archaic language he did not recognize. Each rune connected to the next in a flowing text that continued both above and below at his feet.
Gently nudging Kira to stay close to him, he continued moving forward, feeling as though he were walking through a graveyard. The accompanying sound of insects or creatures that would have live down here, was gone as he felt his muscles begin to tense in worry. Something about this place just didn’t smell right to him, and that included the smell. Instead of rot, decay, or soil, he smelt nothing. It was as though this place had been washed clean of all life. Another sign that they should not be here.
Footsteps echoing on the stone, Gregor tried to ease the tension in his back, but the further they traveled along the road, he got the distinct impression that he was being watched. It was like hundreds of eyes peering out at him from the shadows, drinking him in like he was a tasty morsel of meat. If not for the novelty of the thought, he would have believed that he was going crazy, but as he glanced in Kira’s direction, he saw her gaze up at the ceiling above, and Gregor could have sworn the shadows moved, avoiding the light.
Almost panicked by the idea that they were surrounded by a sea of shadow monsters, he wondered how much longer they would need to travel, before they began to pass gaping holes in the walls. The stench from them alone reminded Gregor of battlefields and somehow put his mind at ease as he paused to look inside one of them.
Dark, and much deeper than he had first realized, he waved his torch down, and let out a gasp at the hundreds of bones that lay at the bottom. At least he had thought it was the bottom when the bones began to shift and move.
Leaping back with greatsword held at the ready, he pulled Kira in close to him as he heard the growl of monsters. Terrified that he had awakened something, he increased his pace into a run, all the while looking over his shoulder, when a beast erupted out of one of the holes in front of him. Moving on all fours, covered in red scales, and with the skull shape of a coyote. The creature’s golden eyes glowed in the darkness, as its jaws dropped open, and its throat began to flush a bright red as though readying itself to attack.
Fearful for Kira’s life, Gregor did not hesitate, but threw himself onto the beast, becoming entangled with its talons, fire spurting out of its mouth as he punched it in the throat. Howling as it recoiled in pain, Gregor could see out from the corner of his eye that more of the beasts were coming out of the walls, hundreds of them.
Vaulting back up to his feet, he snapped his greatsword down on the head of the weakened creature, scooped Kira onto his shoulder, and began running to the sound of monsters behind him. But despite the overwhelming fear he felt at that moment, he also felt purpose as well, and as the walls blurred around him, he found himself at the end of the passageway. Standing there inside of a square chamber, Gregor saw two diverging archways. One of them led east, and the other into an inky black pool of darkness.
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Licking his lips at the thought of the danger that awaited them on both paths, Gregor set Kira down beside him. The young woman, giving him a strange look, before she stared down at her feet, and said, “You do not need to protect me, Gregor. I am not the same child that you took in because you pitied me. I do not want to be a burden to you.”
Startled by the first time she had mentioned his name, Gregor felt his heart pound in his chest, and his eyes begin to water as he replied, “Is that why you think I came here, girl? Risked my life for you? Gave up everything for you? Because of guilt and pity?”
“Isn’t it?” Moist silver eyes looking up at him, he saw her tremble before him like a leaf, but all Gregor could feel was white hot rage. After all the things he had done, after all the trials he had faced, her words had wounded him deeper than any sharp-edged blade. “No! Blast it! It was never pity! Never, not even for one second! You may not be my blood, but you are mine all the same. You are my girl, and I would bring down hell itself to protect you! So don’t you ever for one second believe it was pity! I came here because my life is meaningless without you, it was meaningless before I met you, and you are the reason I have lived any of it!”
His words punctuated by the echoes in the air, Gregor looked back over his shoulder to see hundreds of firetails streaming towards him. “Now come on.” But as he turned back, he saw a spell scroll in her hands, Kira’s scarred cheeks wet with tears as she smiled, “I am sorry that I brought you here, Gregor, but I can’t be your burden. Find the dragon armor. Save Leyora’s people, and know that I love you.”
And as Gregor screamed, “no!” She balled the parchment into her mouth and evaporated into the thin air. His fists smashed into the ground as he collapsed to his knees, he cried out, “Damn it, Kira!” Then in a low whisper, “I’m not giving up on you, girl. I am never giving up on you.”
He then swallowed back the black pit of despair, stood up, and smiled grimly at the monsters that rushed towards him. He still had work to do.
~*~
Butchering every single one of them, Gregor entered the inky black portal, and strode into a world of nightmares. The oppressive darkness, the scent of rotting flesh, and the overwhelming tension in the air was combined with strange black obelisks that created lightning. The flashing white sparks, the thunderous noise, boomed into an immense underground cavern where thousands of fleshless black blobs slid across its many surfaces.
Focusing his energy to cause his greatsword to burn, he dropped the torch behind him, and simply walked forward. The beasts that shied away from him, reminded him much of shapeless black balls as he moved between the stone pillars, his skin prickled by the intense crackles of lightning.
Feeling more determined than he had ever been, he looked up at the pyramid-shaped structure that rose out of the darkness and moved toward its opening. All the while he kept thinking at the back of his mind, “I will find you again, girl.” The slurping sounds as blobs wriggled away from him, caused an itch on the back of his hands. And that is when he saw it.
At the center of another chamber, he discovered glowing runic armor that floated in the air, and standing before it was a familiar figure. His demonic red eyes turned to look at him, Lord Farghoul laughed at his shocked surprise. “I did say that I would see you again, warrior. You may have defeated me before, but here in my realm, you are nothing to me.”
But if that was meant to terrify Gregor, it did not. Deep within the fire of his rage, he held out Lost Flame before him, and asked, “Are you Bethal’Mashar?”
Crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness, Farghoul spread out his wings and chuckled. “A name from a different lifetime, a name to bring fear to those who would tread these grounds, a name that will see your end. Yours as it did the foolish boy who came here so long ago.”
Curious to hear more, Gregor wondered aloud, “what ever happened to Falgorn?”
Its teeth twisted into a wicked smile, the demon flicked its hands, and fires suddenly blazed all around them. “Why not see for yourself?” The flames that licked at the edges of the walls, showed the remains of a man that hung from the ceiling above them. His entrails leaked out of his body, his face mutilated beyond recognition, Falgorn was spread-eagled with black spikes piercing his hands and feet. But despite his grievous wounds, Gregor watched his chest heave with effort as his lips moved. “Pleassss, helpppp meeee.”
“He tried to steal from me, the coward, and he paid the price.” Gleaming red eyes burning with malice, Farghoul summoned a pitch-black greatsword into his hands, “a price that you shall pay as well.” The black flames that burned into the air, caused the weapon to shimmer with heat. “Are you ready to die?”
His gaze lowered back down, Gregor licked his lips, and without another word, attacked. The first meeting of blades, a burst of white noise as fire flashed in the air. But unlike before, the demon seemed more like liquid as he slipped from one form into the next. The rage, the anger, the thought of losing her, filled Gregor with enough unbridled fury that he beat back dozens of slashes, but with each parry, pivot, and cut, he felt himself being pushed back. The armor that floated behind them, a beautiful promise as Gregor used every single bit of power, skill, and energy at his disposal. Blasts of magic, master blade strokes, were blocked or avoided at the last instant as though the demon were nothing but a snake.
Breath coming out in short gasps, he could feel the nicks and bruises that had landed on him, and yet Farghoul remained unharmed. Its cruel lips twisted into a sneer, he watched as the creature slowly shook its horned head, and flexed its black wings to pounce, when a thought occurred to him. If the demon was a part of the Shadow Realm, then he too must fear the light. Not the flamelight that lit up this chamber, but the brilliant light of the four suns.
And as that thought occurred to him, he fell back into a feint, and drew power into himself. Then as the demon rushed forward in a blur, he let that light explode out of him, the brilliant whiteness blinding everything as he thrust forward.
Impaled upon his greatsword, Gregor heard the demon whimper in his ear, “Impossible...” before its lifeless body fell to the ground.
Looking up to see Falgorn watching him, Gregor smiled and took a bow. “I shall have to hire a bard one of these days if only to chronicle all those I have killed.” Gods help him, but he had enjoyed that battle.