Dragon Apocalypse (The Berserker and the Pedant Book 2) (11 page)

Gurken woke the next morning and raised his head from the feasting table.
 
His face peeled away from the table, some unidentifiable sticky substance attaching him to it. He poured some water from a nearby pitcher over his face and used his hands to wipe it off.

“Now, that’s a party!” Gurken shouted.

Pellonia strode into the room, refreshed from a night’s rest and already changed into her adventuring gear, the ceremonial garb from the night before discarded in favor of more practical attire.

“It’s time to get leave for our quest, Gurken.
 
Where is everyone?” Pellonia asked.

Gurken shrugged, saw a leg of uneaten mutton and dug into it with a ferocity that reminded Pellonia of the days when Gurken still raged.
 
A groan rose from nearby a fireplace, and Ohm sat up, waking a number of slumbering ladies that had fallen asleep on his chest.
 
The governesses quickly awoke, saw the situation, and latched onto their respective lady, ushering them away.

Ohm looked up and yelled, “Apocalypse!
 
Come down!
 
What are you doing sleeping on the chandelier?
 
And with a parrot, no less!”

Apocalypse looked apologetically at the bird, and glode… glided… glade?
 
Anyway, he flew down, landing on Ohm’s shoulder.

Maximina wandered in, dressed in the same outfit as the night before, clothing disheveled, with matted hair in a dazzling configuration and a big stupid grin on her face.
 
“A night to remember,” she sighed contentedly.

A servant of some rank or another scurried into the room.

“Glorious Ice Capaders,” he said.
 
“The time has come to prepare for the introductory parade to mark the inauguration of the quest.”
 
He clapped his hands and a stream of servants entered the room, taking the companions and leading them to separate rooms to further bathe and toilet and change into their adventuring garb.

When all was done, they met Lord FitzClarence back in the great hall.
 
The room had been cleaned from the previous night’s festivities and a small crowd had gathered in the room.
 
A servant approached Gurken, returning his axe, and Lord FitzClarence addressed them.

“Are you prepared to begin your quest?”

C
HAPTER
T
EN

The Berserker and the Dungeon

THE DOORS FROM the grand hall swung open, revealing a podium and stage in front of an enormous crowd.
 
The crowd began hollering and cheering as Lord FitzClarence stood at the podium, and they quieted down to hear him speak.
 
He described the quest in gruesome detail, taking time to make a jab at the rival noble who had sponsored the previous adventuring party to have attempted the quest, The Lightning Brigade.

After describing the quest, he launched into a quite favorable introduction of the Ice Capaders by calling each out individually to cheers and shouts of admiration.
 

Pellonia waved, confused by the spectacle.
 
Gurken roared, growled, and generally played to the crowd.
 
Maximina entered the stage dramatically, bowing to the crowd before creating the illusion of an immense ice troll roaring at the crowd.
 
The crowd went berserk with applause.
 
Ohm attempted to play his lute, but was apologetically ushered to the side of the stage by the servants of Lord FitzClarence.

After the individual introductions, Lord FitzClarence launched into vivid explanation of how The Ice Capaders had accompanied him on his quest to retrieve the Orb of Skzd from the troll cave and were now ready to attempt a dangerous quest of their own.
 
Pellonia and Gurken raised an eyebrow, staring in wonder at Lord FitzClarence, who had merely given them a ride in his carriage to the entrance of the mines.

After the speech, minstrels began to play a ballad and walk out into the crowd.
 
The crowd parted, allowing the minstrels to pass. Lord FitzClarence followed, gesturing for our heroes to, in turn, follow him.
 
The crowd surged in behind the minstrels, lifting Lord FitzClarence, Pellonia, Gurken, Maximina, and Ohm onto their shoulders and carrying them after the minstrels.
 

Lord FitzClarence leaned over shaking hands along the way.

“Questing is quite the spectacle in Arendal,” Pellonia shouted to Gurken.

“Yes, finally a place that understands the true importance of the adventurer.
 
I wonder if they have a temple of Durstin here,” Gurken shouted back.

“I, for one, could get used to his,” said Maximina.

“I didn’t even acquire a patron,” Ohm complained.
 
“How am I ever to be a full time bard?
 
I suppose I’ll have to keep adventuring for now.”

The procession ended and the crowd formed a circle around a round metal grate in the cobblestones.
 
A possibly noxious green mist emanated from beneath the grate.
 
Lord FitzClarence launched into another speech about the dangers The Ice Capaders were sure to face and some men wandered over to the grate, driving metal poles underneath, wedging it up.
 
The green mist billowed out and one of the men began to cough as it enveloped him.

The grate crashed back down with a loud metallic clang as the men jumped back and away from the smoke, apparently deciding that the green mist was no longer possibly noxious so much as conclusively so.
 
Lord FitzClarence stopped speaking and the crowd grew silent as it watched the grate.
 
The grate began to quiver and shake.
 
A few wise individuals took he opportunity to turn and flee, but most drew in closer to get a better look at the mist obscured grate.

The grate exploded into the air, flying up and knocking back the crowd with a concussive force.
 
Vines slithered out of the opening, grasping those in the front of the crowd, crushing them, and tossing them hundreds of feet into the air.
 
The crowd panicked, and no longer seemed concerned about the mist.
 
They ran in every direction as a mass of vines disgorged from the hole and into the streets.

The vines tore into people, flinging them about.
 
One peasant was ensnared by the leg and wrapped around and around with vines until only his eyes peeked out.
 
A sort of a vine mummy, if you will.
 
His eyes turned purple and red as blood was compressed into them.

A massive trunk burst forth from the hole, exploding the earth outwards, showering The Ice Brigade with dirt and rocks.
 
The creature gave a tremendous earthen roar, as if channeling the raw fury of nature.
 
“Rooooaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!”

“Treant!” yelled Gurken as he happily unslung his recently reacquired axe from his back.
 
He tapped on Jera, the rune engraved on his axe that symbolized the cycle of life, that cyclical pattern of the universe that describes how everything changes in its own time.
 
It was also the rune of a good harvest, which Gurken was, at this moment, hoping to have.
 
The rune, to his consternation, did nothing.

Pellonia drew a pair of knives.
 
Maximina handed two crossbows and some quiver cartridges to two servants, saying, “Hand the crossbow to me when mine is empty, and reload the one I hand you!”
 
Ohm watched everything impassively, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed and said, “Time to pay the bills,” and began to play a tune half-heartedly on his lute.
 
Apocalypse took flight.

The hair on Pellonia’s arms stood on end, sending shivers down her spine.
 
Gurken and Maximina noticed it happening to them as well, and they looked to Ohm for some sort of explanation.
 
Ohm shrugged but continued to sing and play the lute.
 
Sparks began to crackle along the trunk of the tree, small sparks of lightning danced up the trunk as the treant lifted itself out of the hole.

Gurken charged the treant, roaring at the top of his lungs.
 
Pellonia circled around to the treant’s side, hoping to flank it.
 
Maximina raised the crossbow, aiming directly between its eyes.
 
Ohm casually strummed out a G major to superdominant A minor in a deceptive cadence, setting an appropriate theme for the encounter.

Arcs of lightning crackled and shot out of the treant, knocking everyone to the ground.
 
The sound of splitting wood pierced the air as the treant burst into flames and pieces cascaded about, bits falling to the ground still aflame.

“Tiiiiiimmmmmbbbbbeeeerrrrr!” came a familiar shout from within the hole.
 
An orb flew out of the pit, lightning sizzling around it.
 
Another three orbs rose after it over the rubble, fire crackled, ice creaked, and light glowed, from the orbs.
 
Arthur climbed out of the pit, followed by Rufus, an elven woman, and a mysterious hooded figure.
 
They stood around the pit looking at the fallen treant, smiling and laughing amongst themselves.

“Arthur?” Pellonia asked, shaking her head to clear it, and standing up.

Arthur turned to look at her, he smirked.

“Well, well, well,” Arthur said.
 
“What have we here?
 
Pell-own-ia.
 
And, there’s Gurken.
 
And some other fools along with you?”

The elven woman walked up behind Arthur and put an arm over his shoulder.
 
“Hello, Pel,” she said.
 
It was Melody, Pellonia’s older sister.

Pellonia’s eyes grew wide.
 
“I thought you left on the elven ship, with one of the other Pellonias.”

Melody smiled, a self-satisfied malignant smile, nothing like the light hearted grin Pellonia remembered.
 
Then Pellonia saw it.
 
Between Melody’s teeth, a tentacle flicked back and forth where a tongue should have been.
 
She’d been taken over by one of the Phage, her mind controlled and turned to their evil purpose.
 
The Melody she knew was no more.

Gurken’s eyes narrowed.
 
“You’ve taken her sister?
 
I’ll kill you.”

“Now, now, Gurken.
 
I really don’t see how you’re capable of that in your current state.
 
No rage, no ‘dwarfen’ runes, no nothing.
 
It’s rather sad, really,” Arthur said. He pointed at Gurken and said in a bored voice, “Fulgur.”
 
A bolt of lightning shot from an orb, striking Gurken and knocking him back.
 
Gurken shook upon the ground, trembling as the lightning coursed through him.
 
“Your ‘dwarfen’ runes can’t protect you anymore, can they?”
 
Arthur laughed, using his fingers to put air quotes around the word ‘dwarfen.’

“Let it go, Arthur.
 
You do hold a grudge overly long,” said Pellonia.

Maximina fired a crossbow bolt at Arthur’s head, handed the crossbow to a servant, took the second crossbow and fired it as well.
 
The orb of ice circling Arthur’s head, shot a beam intercepting the bolts, freezing them solid, and knocking them to the ground as quickly as Maximina could fire them.
 
Maximina stopped and glared at Arthur, who did not even acknowledge her presence.
 
Ohm continued strumming his lute, the tune taking on a character of apprehension and foreboding.

“I do like your bard,” Arthur said.
 
“Quite a catchy tune.
 
Good fellow, are you in need of a patron?”

“It’s her!” Pellonia heard another voice coming out of the hole.
 
A girl looking exactly like Pellonia poked her head up.
 
“It is!” followed by another Pellonia.
 
“I can’t believe it!” A third Pellonia’s head popped up.
 
They scurried out of the hole at the same time, getting in each other’s way as often as not.

The three Pellonia’s walked over to Arthur, smiling at Pellonia.

“We’re all reunited at last.”
 
“One big happy family.” “It’s good to see me, again,” the Pellonias said.

Pellonia curled her lip.
 
“They got you too?”

Maximina’s jaw dropped as she looked from Pellonia to Pellonia to Pellonia to Pellonia.
 
“Four Pellonias!” she exclaimed.

“Five, actually” Arthur said.
 
“One made it onto the elven ship.
 
My mistake, I’d meant to make one copy, that way one could stay here and one could go there, but since I had four orbs with me there was a bit of a feedback loop and poof.
 
Five Pellonias.”