Eerie green light illuminated the tunnel from lanterns that the previous occupants of the Blacknails installed hundreds of years ago. The lamps were a testament to the power of the magic of old; there was no modern device that could last so long without a periodic influx of essence. They were a remnant of a time of wonder, and I wondered briefly how the contraptions had survived the rules the gods had imposed on our reality. Few magical items from that perilous age existed outside of the Ruinlands. And even then, the artifacts found were more harmful than not.
Joy commented that the sickly orbs sporadically anchored into the walls almost gave the appearance of a ghost, pointing the way for us in the darkness. The undead already frayed our nerves with the constant fighting and near-death experiences. I agreed with her assessment, but thankfully the impact was less significant because of my ability to penetrate the darkness. Still, creepy ghost lamps did not help to reduce my stress.
It would have been nice if the lighting was the extent of our encompassing tension. Rather, it turned out to be the least of it. Black puddles of sludge and bones coated the hallway, creating a parody of a child’s game. One in which the players had to hop to avoid stepping on something unpleasant. Though in our case, the unpleasantness was not just smelly, but decidedly harmful. Joy believed the potency of the acid had reduced with exposure to air. However, the time needed to render it inert was too far off to my liking. My magical armor protected me from contact, and more than a few times, I carried Joy over a stretch on my back. Raxx, with his air assisted leaps, did not have that issue.
The sheer pervasiveness of the destroyed undead not only endangered the skin of my companions, but also our sense of direction.
“I vote we go straight ahead,” Raxx said, looking at the split in the tunnel.
On the left, the ground continued in a relatively level direction. Opposite that direction, the tunnel sloped downward into the depths of the mountain. Melted bodies appeared to travel the hallway in both directions, leading me to wonder if we had made the warlock desperate. He had lost a horde that, at a low estimate, had been in the thousands. To his own fog, no less.
Surely the man had known what the result would be, unleashing his weapon in such a manner. I decided the more reasonable conclusion was that his mental faculties had degraded too far. I knew Gozmyr taint drove those foolish enough to make a pact with it insane. Given the size of the man’s number of minions and the scope of the area he had destroyed, the warlock had to have lived with the taint for at least several months. Probably much longer, given his physical state. My brief glimpse at his decaying bare skin proved as much.
Either way, because of the volume of the mess, we did not know which direction to pursue our quarry.
“I’d prefer we continue on at this level before going lower,” Joy said hesitantly.
“I agree,” I said, shuddering at the path of descent presented before us. My vow to follow Reynold to the hells felt strained before the bosom of the primordial titan. At least with death your soul would go on to the judgement of the gods. None could say whether that was true for those lost to the blight of undeath.
Before long, the tunnel cleared, and we took a brief rest. The hour we spent traveling had been an affair so grueling I struggle to put it into words.
“The tunnel brought us up,” I said after a drink of water. The elevation had been slight, practically unnoticeable, for most of our path. More recently, the gradual incline had taken a sharper increase. I hoped it was leading outside of the mountain. Maybe there would be another route back down.
“Yes,” Joy said, nodding. Then added, “It’s the reason there are so many dead undead this way. The smoke drifted upward where it could, and it cleared a path for us. I think we are near the exit.”
“I thought you hit his leg,” Raxx said after a second.
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“I did,” Joy answered.
“Well, how’d he run all this way, uphill with a hurt leg? Did the acidfog get him?” Raxx asked.
“Well, first thing, he’s partially undead himself. Not sure a wound like that would even slow him down like it would one of us. Then there is the concentration of the horde. My guess is that he sent them toward us so he could escape. I don’t think his ambush was fully in place when we caught up to him. My guess is that he was afraid he could not outrun his own weapon, so he sent all of them to us while he fled. If he’d sent them all in the same direction he was running, there was a chance he could get caught up in the chain reaction. The crazed fool put as much distance between himself and the alchemy as he could.” Joy said.
I nodded. All the pieces fit her theory. Truthfully, I was mostly just happy to rid myself of the ubiquitous slime.
In the absence of putrefied bodies, the blackened walls became boring brown-grey stone. The change was a welcome, if short, one. Daylight spilled into the passage with us, less than two hundred feet from our resting space.
Upon exiting the earth, we stood side by side in awed astonishment.
Carved into the mountain's side was a ziggurat. At the ground level, where we entered the tunnel, the edifice was unobservable. Whoever had built the temple, whether it be Stoneblood, Umbrakin, or Mage King, had also gone through the effort of tearing away enough mountain to create a giant half bowl. This had the intended effect of disguising the structure within the hollow of the mountain.
Ghost lamp lit pillars, topped with giant yellowed skulls, alternated on either side along the path that led to the entrance of the building. The creators had carved unknown arcane sigils into each level of the temple in an indecipherable pattern.
“What in the abyss is that?” I said, pointing at the end of the road in front of us.
A thirteen-foot-tall monstrosity of armor and blackened skin obediently stood in front of the entrance of the ziggurat. It was not a Doom Champion, thankfully, but it still looked dangerous. I could not identify what race the corpse had belonged to, if indeed it was dead, due to its advanced age and alien armor. Two massive, clawed hands held a giant sword point down in place, point down, while it watched us with baleful yellow eyes from beneath the shadows of its helmet.
The creature was both imposing and terrifying, but it also looked severely injured. Pieces of its armor were missing or melted, and parts of its black scaled skin were burned, leaving raw pink tissue exposed to the elements. A ghastly burn wound on its exposed torso looked to have fused the top portion of its breastplate to its skin. It was a miracle the thing was still standing. I had my suspicions about what it was, though.
“That’s a demon,” Raxx said with a shaky voice, echoing my own fearful thoughts.
It was the Mage Kings that had summoned the primordial titans to our world from their alien homes. The Gods had banished all but Gozmyr back to their worlds when they enacted their great spell. I suspected we stood in the very spot the Mage King used to bring forth the horrible creature. It was the only thing that would explain the presence of a demon this far from the Ruinlands. How it had remained undiscovered for so long was another mystery.
“Bleh!” Joy said, chuckling. “Who cares about ugly there? I’m just happy we are on the right path.”
Both of us turned to look at her.
“The burns, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, the burns! Reynold’s group did that. No one else out here is capable of that kind of destructive power, mark me.” Joy said, smiling.
“COME FORTH!” The demon shouted, its awful voice echoing in the surrounding hollow, interrupting our conversation.
Instead of obeying, we sat there in silence, watching the awful thing. Despite its attempt at appearing stoic, yellowish blood dripped out of its wounds onto the cold earth below. Shifting its weight to hide the blood loss drew a hiss out of the monster. It was even more hurt than we originally believed.
Without a word, the three of us spread out into a triangle formation with Raxx at the center. The ease with which we fell into our respective roles did not amaze me as much as it should. Our battle synchronization had come a long way in a quick time.
Carefully, we stalked up the path toward the injured foe. I only observed it out of the corner of my eye, instead having the full focus of my attention searching for an ambush or other adversary.
When we got within twenty feet, the demon spoke again.
“BE YE HERE FOR A PACT? GOZMYR AWAITS!” It asked in a voice so loud I had trouble understanding its words. One of its massive legs trembled under the pressure of standing.
I gave Joy a meaningful look. The monster knew we were not here for a pact and clearly wanted to avoid a battle. It was probably tasked with guarding the temple from outsiders and was trying to get us to say the words to let go in peace.
Fat chance of that Demon, I thought.
“Yeah, we are here for a pact,” Joy lied, unable to keep the grin off her face.
“VERY WELL. YOU MAY ENTER!” it said, waving us through with a hand.
We circled around it, giving it a wide berth as we made our way toward the entrance.
Once its back was to us, we attacked.