The eastern entrance chamber of Azoria’s tower contained an interior basilica supported by Tuscan columns. Behind the columns were wide aisles where flaming torches lined stone walls. They lit sharp carvings in an ancient script etched into the granite. Small pallets of wrapped packages sat stacked against the murals.

Arched stone columns supported the pinnacle of the wide interior basilica. A sigil of crisscrossing arced lines glowed with a soft violet on a raised platform. Above this portal, a glowing ball of light hung suspended. The smooth granite floor glimmered in the lights without a speck of dust to mar its shine. No soot fell from the torches.

Seven knights clad in steel armor stood around the portal waiting. The insignia of Dafnoli, a tightly wound sausage, raised from the centers of their breast plates and shields. Steel swords held in leather sheaths were buckled to their armor.

A wide space surrounding the platform provided plenty of room for other hulvins to work. Azoria statues stood in front of each Tuscan column with their arms outstretched, palms faced upwards. Pure white marble without flaw or discoloration flowed from head to toe. Some statues had a resting face, while others the slightest of a smirk. This alternated randomly between the twelve statues surrounding the portal basilica. Occasionally, a pronounced smirk would curl on a statue’s lip. Nobody saw the faces move, only the final results.

Three leather clad rangers stood guard at the wide eastern tunnel that led to the exit. A twinkle of daylight reached the basilica along with a chill breeze from the badlands. To the west, an unlit tunnel followed a gentle slope downward. The darkness of the western tunnel tried to creep into the basilica while a team of Hulvin warriors worked to build a barrier of stacked stone and brick.

In the aisles to the north and south, openings in the walls between slabs of carved granite led into unlit narrow paths. A knight equipped with shield, sword, and pike, stood guard over each.

A man in fine armor watched the team reinforce the barricade with stones and clay. More workers entered with stone-laden carts. The three knights, two rangers, healer, and the mage holding the position helped to unload. He grumbled, the turned to walk toward a collection of stools. Armor clanked a bit with each step toward a sitting woman armored in fine red leather.

Golden blonde hair flowed in streaks. Her bright blue eyes shone typically of the higher hulvin. Long pointed ears bounced slightly as she turned her head. A quiver of silverish arrows rested on her back alongside an ornate silver-gray bow shaped like a formation of clouds. She took delicate bites from a red apple.

“You look worried Donovan,” she said.

“Of course I’m worried. We lost good people taking this tower and building the fortress nearby. Now the beacon decides to light, when we finally had them scattered. There’s going to be hell to pay on the front lines. And we have to worry about what this tower has planned instead of reinforcing our army. So much for killing Demonians.”

“Well, the portal is lit. Nobody is daring to get too close. The gates to the tunnel opened. We’re not venturing to the first floor. That’s what it wants. As soon as something comes through that portal, we ambush it. We use the tower against itself by creating a choke-point. If we get overwhelmed, we fight a slow retreat back to Fort Gerard. If we can’t keep this pass open for at least a week, the entire central army is stranded.”

“Thousands of years of silence and it has to light now, during a cleansing. It’s been open for hours though. Not so much as a flare since the portal lit. Not so much as a sound from the tunnel. Maybe everything down there died?” Donovan suddenly smiled, “I think your lover is back.”

Soft footsteps accompanied by heavy breathing came from the entrance. A short woman in leather armor ran forward between the torches. Curly brown hair bounced.

“Aliiiiiicia!”

Marigold waved to get their attention. Her elongated ears were more rounded, indicating she was more hu than vin. Alicia put the half-eaten apple on a small stand and stood up to raise her arms in a long healthy stretch. That allowed Marigold to pounce. Arms wrapped around her armor. Lips warmed her cheek before Marigold nuzzled her.

“Alicia! I missed you!”

“We were only apart for a day silly. What news from the General? Any change in our orders?”

“It’s just like you thought. They want us to secure the portal until our forces can retreat. You’re so smart Captain; it’s like you predicted the orders in advance as soon as the beacon lit.”

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Alicia set Marigold’s leather boots firmly on the granite. She barely reached Alicia’s neck in height.

“Are they going to reinforce Fort Gerard? Or do they want us to pull back with the retreating army to the Imperial border?”

“Once the army has moved south, we’re to move south with them.”

“Captain,” one of the mages called from the improvised barrier, “If the legends are true. The first arrivals will be a trickle. It took months for the waves to materialize. By then our armies will be ready behind our fortified border.”

Alicia nodded, “If we’re lucky. It’s all just a distraction based on thousands of years of stories.”

Marigold shifted her hip, “But you saw how bright that red beacon was! It erased the stars wherever it touched the sky for a whole hour! I was told it lit the night sky undiminished even in Dafnoli! Aren’t you the least bit scared boss?”

A leather glove ruffled Marigold’s hair, “It’s been hours with nothing to show for it except a glowing portal stand and an open tunnel door. I’m sure we can manage whatever it throws at us.”

Marigold leaned into the nuzzling and the soft scritches.

Donovan took a seat on a wood chair tied with twine. He took count of the forces in his head. The finest warriors were deployed right here with him and Alicia. This included the knights ringing the portal and their reinforcements. They had two healers to sustain their knights against multiple waves. The crack team reinforcing the dungeon descent had experience in chokepoint defense. They had distinguished themselves by eliminating entire goblin hordes outnumbering them in the hundreds.

Surrounding the tower was a garrison of regulars one hundred strong, with another force of one hundred regular pike wielders supported by a strong captain and a contingent of mages behind the stone walls of Fort Gerard. But these numbers would balloon in the thousands as the Imperial calvary and legions returned on the way home. They just had to hold out and keep supplies flowing north. Donovon rested his arms over his leg plates.

Everything felt quiet.

He heard a woman laughing, then another, and another.

The statues were laughing.

He looked at the smirking marble white face of the Demonian version of Azoria smirking upon his knights. His foot began to jump, which made his armor rattle. He forced himself to stop his restless leg.

Then came the sound of leather sole slapping stone. It was ever so soft, indicative of leisurely stroll. Donovon made his way to the barricade. He silenced his men. Alicia gathered her rangers. Marigold made a hand signal to her mages. Anyone who had been resting stood quietly, fully alert.

Clop... clip... clop... clip...

The gentle sound echoed from the depths below.

Then it stopped.

“Cast a mage light, send it into the tunnel,” Donovan ordered.

The mage lifted his wand. A ball of blue light formed at the tip. He pulled back his wand and smacked it forward. It became stuck on the downward slope of the ceiling. The mage cast another, this time making sure to angle his strike downward.

Someone was down there! A thin, gangly man in a crisp black suit, white shirt, and black tie winced in the sudden light. Black leather shoes shone with a bit of polish. He had bronzed skin, a bit wrinkled. His oily black hair slithered in snaky streaks over his bald head. His broad smile revealed yellowing crooked teeth. He had a small cane with a bronze ball handle. The tip tapped at his feet. He stood frozen, cane touched the floor while his smile refused to waver.

Donovan waved over Alicia, who cautiously approached the barricade and peered down at the smiling man.

“Is it a hulvin? Look at his ears. It’s like someone cropped them.”

Alicia leaned forward, “Hello down there! We mean no harm. What are you doing in this place. Have you gotten lost.”

The man stood in place with a big toothy grin.

“An old man with cropped ears? He looks a lot les threatening than a horde of goblins. Why isn’t he moving? What’s with that smile? Hey! Old man! Say something before we release the arrows! Did you get lost? Did you get trapped in here? Are you okay?” She turned to the others, “It’s a dungeon illusion. It wants us to go further inside to trap us. Just let it alone and it’s harmless.”

The tap of a cane echoed up the corridor once more, “Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee. It tolls, for thee.”

The mage light went out. Arrows flew against the barricade. Donavan picked up a crude stone goblin arrow.

“Is this a joke? Don’t let them provoke you! We hold the portal room. If this is all they have-”

“Moooooo!”

Two Mogg-taurs stood back-to-back on the platform, each fifteen feet tall, muscles flexing across their limbs. Each held a giant iron ax in their right hands. A supply sack hung strapped on their hairy backs.

A huge fist lifted a knight off his feet. A sword clanged on the floor. The knight’s neck went through the hand of an Azoria statue. Skin stretched as the weight of his armor pulled flesh apart. The body clattered to the granite floor as the head remained seated in the marble palm. A fountain of blood gushed around Azoria’s pale fingers and dripped into the pool flowing from an open neck.

On the other side of the portal, an iron ax blade cleaved the head of an unwary knight apart. The Mogg-taur swung the back of its giant axe for the next knight before the first body collapsed. A rush ensued to back up into the aisles and grab the helmets that had been deemed too uncomfortable previously.

The scent of fresh blood filled the chamber. The giant beasts stomped off the platform. A stinky methane laden gas shot out their nostrils with each snort.

Waves of goblin arrows smacked against the barrier from the dark descending tunnel.

Donovan unsheathed his long sword and turned to face the Mogg-taurs.

Alicia took cover behind a statue and knelt to fire her bow.

Marigold took position at the barricade. A ball of yellow flame grew huge above her left hand. It licked at her curling hair.