Friedrich stood and stared at the trapdoor at the top of the pit. It was taunting him from above, as though daring him to try and reach it, but he knew something that it did not. He knew exactly how to get to it.
The young man retrieved his goblin mask from underneath his tunic and placed it upon his face. His body shrivelled and hunched while his fingers grew long and spindly. He did not need hooks, pegs and rope to scale reach the ceiling. He had the perfect tools at the end of his arms.
He scurried over to the walls of the pit. Unlike the wall at the Temple of Valskythe, there were no consistent grooves between bricks. The pit had been dug out and the walls were of uneven stone. Friedrich walked around, looking for the best place to start his climb and settled on a smoother part of the wall that had a thin ledge-like protrusion six feet up.
Taking a running leap, the shorter-than-a-human goblin reached up and curled his spindly fingers around it, holding on tightly. He pulled himself up and then dug two fingers into a small hole. Friedrich moved up, shimmying left and right along the way, trying to get to the top before his time ran out. When he was as high as he could go, he hung from small indents in the ceiling that barely gave him enough room for his fingertips. It was no easy task, but he was nearly there.
He swung from one indent to another as the sweat poured from his wrinkly brow while his muscles screamed and his tendons felt as though they were about to snap. With one final swung, he wedged his fingers between two planks in the frame holding the door in place and pushed the unlocked door open. Friedrich achingly swung back and forth, picking up momentum and then threw himself into the corridor above.
Checking to make sure his surroundings were clear; he closed the trapdoor up again and moved towards a double door. Halfway there, the magic of the goblin mask ran dry and he walked as a human again. Friedrich put his ear to the door and listened, but there was only silence form the other side. He slowly opened it, letting a sliver of dim light in.
Outside was a courtyard. He had not been moving through the castle on the way here, he had still been outside for most of the short journey. He could see the main wall of the castle up ahead, where demons roamed along the top. In the courtyard were two more demons, whipping their bipedal reptiles. Friedrich supposed these creatures were the closest things to horses in this forsaken realm.
How was he supposed to cross the yard unseen? With a sigh, he knew he had to be a fox once more. His fur stood out among the dark and drab colours of this world, but it was his only form small enough to slink from hiding place to hiding place. It was also his only form that would not run out after five minutes, leaving him exposed.
Now four-legged again, Friedrich watched and waited. There was nobody looking in his direction and there was a small stone altar nearby. With a deep breath, he sprinted to it and tucked himself neatly behind the dull stone, making sure to wrap his tail around himself so the golden fur wasn’t sticking out. He stood silently, breathing heavily as he waited.
If he was desperate, he would fight his way to safety, but that was a last resort. He had to know what else lay within this castle. He knew that Teleri’s approach to the situation would be to slaughter whatever demons stood in her way, but Friedrich was not convinced he could do that alone. Even as a minotaur, he was not invulnerable.
Friedrich dared to poke his head out from behind the altar. He didn’t even stop to think who or what the altar was dedicated to, but it didn’t matter. All he cared about was knowing that the coast was clear, and it did indeed appear to be. He dashed towards a broken wagon and sat behind a wheel, peering through the gaps to see if any of the demons had noticed him. Much to his delight, they had not.
He laid out the rest of his plan of action to reach the door. There was a small rock a few yards to his left, but there was an armoured demon nearby with one of the bipedal lizards. The demon was turned the other way, but Friedrich knew the lizard would see him. Was it smart enough to alert its master? Would it even be willing to, were it decently intelligent? It was a risk he would have to take, for the door was no more than two dozen yards past them.
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“Gee sharka!” called a demon from somewhere unseen. Friedrich kept his eyes on the demon he was watching, who responded to the call along with his reptile. Now was his chance.
Friedrich ducked under the wagon and ran for the door, too afraid to look over his shoulder and see if he had been spotted. Upon reaching the door, he turned back into a human, opened it and threw himself inside, closing it behind him. He immediately transformed back into a fox and leapt inside an urn, curling into a furry ball within it.
Feeling like an idiot, he waited again. He heard no yells, he heard no footsteps and he did not hear the creak of the wooden door opening. He had either made it inside unnoticed or nothing had cared enough to chase him. He unfurled himself and placed his front paws on the rim of the urn, sticking his head out and looking around. All was quiet in this shadowed corridor.
Friedrich hopped out and walked along, sticking as close to the darkness as he could. Every few seconds, he would pause and listen. Occasionally, he would hear a grunt or a clang of metal somewhere, but he was alone for now. Convinced he was heading in the direction of the front gates, he pivoted and moved towards a staircase. A sudden silhouette appeared, making its way down the rounded staircase and Friedrich looked for somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere. He pressed himself up against the wall, hoping that the demon was inattentive.
As the demon approached, its boot brushed against his golden paw and the demon paused. There was no hiding from this, Friedrich had to take action. As the demon leaned down to see what he had touched, Friedrich transformed and smashed his shield into the demon’s chest, knocking it into the air. As it landed, he stabbed it in the gap in its armour, piercing it through the neck. It tried to speak as blood poured from its mouth, but its last vestiges of life slipped away seconds later.
Friedrich sheathed his sword and hoisted the heavy demon over his shoulder. Carrying the armoured beast was no easy task, but he could not leave it here to be discovered or he would be discovered. The young man walked back the way he came, seeking somewhere to stash the body lest it be him being disposed of next.
A small chamber lay open down a left corridor and Friedrich threw the body into the corner, hiding it behind the door. He closed it and escaped, taking fox form once more. He bounded up the stairs from which the demon had descended followed the circular staircase all the way to the top, pausing at the archway to push open the door. He poked his head through the gap and peered down the hallway.
Unlike the floor below, there more than the odd grunt or clang, there was a constant chattering from somewhere up ahead. What was being said, Friedrich couldn’t discern. Even with his improved hearing as a fox, the low cacophony of discordant demonic language was unpleasant to the ear and it left Friedrich feeling as though he truly was alone in this world.
He crept ahead, his padded feet dampening the sound of his movement and he followed the sound to its source. Inside a large hall sat at least two dozen demons around a large, circular table. They were having a harsh disagreement with each other about something or other. Every so often, one of the demons stood up was shouted down by the others.
“Fal krythe, ga bar’gut!” yelled one of them loudly only to be met with furious rebuttals.
“Kra felk!” the others shouted.
The demon at the head of the table stood up, slamming his ashen fist on the table. “Mer, gal fermythe,” he said sharply, his eyes fixated on one of his particularly argumentative kin.
With a stoic look on his face, the demon rose from his seat, walked around the table and placed his hand upon the argumentative demon’s face. “Morey kitaga,” he said quietly as his hands glowed red hot.
The demon he held stifled his screams at first, but it was not long before the searing burns broke him and he yelled out in agony. Friedrich watched on in horror at what these monsters were capable of doing to their own. He did not want this fate to be his, but before he could turn to leave, he felt a heavy boot kick him in his stomach, flinging him across the floor.
“Kitarl! Kitarl!” yelled the demon who had kicked Friedrich.
The young man returned to his human form and ran the demon through with his sword before it had the chance to retaliate, but the demons at the table had been alerted. Friedrich looked to his left and could see all but one of the demons staring at him—the one who did not was resting his head against the table, lifeless and burned. Friedrich had to flee and he had to flee at once.
The young man kept his sword held tightly in his hand as he ran back the way he came while the demons hurried after him. As he charged towards the door within the archway, it suddenly swung open and a burly man walked calmly into the corridor. He twirled a hammer in his hands as one of the demons lunged for the shocked Friedrich, who raised his shield just in time.
“Survival instinct,” muttered the man as Friedrich shoved the demon out of the way and stabbed it to death. “Good, you’ll need that.”
The man pushed past Friedrich, drawing back his hammer and swinging it into the jaw of another demon who was closing in on them.