The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (10 page)

That look changed to shock, and possibly despair, he thought, as he thrust a dagger straight through her heart with a crazed look in his deep, dark eyes. As he dropped her to the floor, her warm blood still fresh on his hands, the Paladin entered.

His facial features distorted slowly beneath his helm, converting from puzzlement and wonder to sheer horror and disgust as he registered what had happened here. His gaze slowly adjusted to first regard the limp gnomish female on the floor lying in a puddle of blood, and then the dark-eyed gnome standing with a bloody dagger in his hand.

“What is the meaning of this?” Bralon blurted out in absolute revulsion at the sight of the dead gnomish girl. But as the holy warrior unsheathed his weapon, intending to enforce the will of The Shimmering One upon the obvious and base murderer set before him, he froze. He jerked back suddenly and began to convulse as his helm flew from atop his skull to reveal the blonde hair beneath. His wide eyes showed a clear struggle within and turned to regard Randermotten, whose face widened with a wicked smile.

Bralon’s brow began to bead with sweat as the demon Zan’kuros asserted his will from within the holiest of holy warriors. The Paladin felt the darkness closing in on him, wresting control of his soul.

Randermotten watched intently, growing nervous as the internal battle seemed to go on for what seemed an eternity. He continued observing, beginning to wonder who would emerge victorious.

Bralon fought with the will and power of a true warrior of the sun god, but in the end it did him no good against this foul demon from Pandemonium. Now he was no longer Bralon the bold. In his stead was a demonic creature, the likes of which Wothlondia hadn’t seen in decades.

The Paladin rose to his feet and stood up straight once more. Randermotten held his dagger out before him in a threatening manner, worried about what he would do if Bralon had actually won the battle for his soul.

“I… am… Bralon… no…. more,” the creature struggled to say, seemingly having trouble uttering the words. “Zan’kuros… is… now.”

“Not used to the human’s voice, eh?” Randermotten chuckled with a relieved and devious grin. “We be needin’ to clean this up and ye be needin’ to be gettin’ back to your… friends,” he added with a sickening giggle. “Yer gonna’ have to act like all is normal until ye leave, and then,” he paused, “…slaughter ‘em!” Randermotten said this with confidence, knowing that the demon within Bralon was mighty indeed. “Then ye return ta me and we’ll decide what’s what.”

With that, Randermotten began to clean the gnomish woman’s lifeblood from the hard floor of the burrow while the demon devoured the body. Randermotten winced a few times during the procedure. He was still not used to the demon and what it was capable of doing. Once that task was finished, Zan’kuros, now in the body of the human paladin, began working his vocal chords aloud, familiarizing itself with the voice of its current host.

 “Thank you again for providing us with food and shelter,” Garius declared with a gesture toward his plate. The meal had not been very appetizing, but he had eaten it nonetheless out of respect for the gnomes’ kindness and hospitality. “I am finished eating now.”

“So ye are,” observed Larwinckle, standing and heading toward the door to the lower level that Garius had questioned him about earlier. “This heads into the tunnels below the village,” he said matter-of-factly. “We gnomes don’t do much of our traveling above ground, ye see.”

Garius nodded in understanding. It made sense now to him. The gnomes were generally under-dwellers, subterrane-born with a penchant for doing things in the dark rather than the light. That type of existence would not sit well with the warpriest. He needed the constant reminder of his god’s presence.

He watched as Bralon came back into the tavern and wondered how long he had been gone. Garius realized he must have been listening to the gnomes’ story for over an hour, and so intently that he had not been paying attention to the comings and goings around him. He watched as Bralon walked unsteadily toward the others, took a seat next to them and began speaking to them in hushed tones.

Is something wrong with Bralon? Garius wondered. But, before he could give it another thought, he felt the hand of the gnome upon his shoulder.

“Do ye want to take a look see?” Larwinckle asked, wrenching the warpriest from his introspection. Garius nodded politely and examined the three Paladins as they stood and exited the tavern. Probably going out to pray beneath the sun, Garius thought, since it must be nearing Sun’s Peak again.

The warpriest silently followed the gnome to the lowest floor level of the tavern, which in Garius’ estimation had to be twenty to thirty feet below ground at this point. Larwinckle descended the stairs and opened the door. A well-lit and expansive tunnel opened up before him.

There were several gnomes scurrying about down here and Garius realized it to be a grandiose space. Their entire village for the most part was under the ground in these wide, voluminous tunnels. Garius had to duck slightly on occasion to avoid banging his head along the ceilings of the tunnels, but generally they were at least a full head above his height. As they walked along, he discovered that there were buildings and other structures built entirely under and directly into the ground, with stone that made up the walls. His awe and respect for the gnomish people grew as he admired their craftsmanship and ingenuity. There was even a small, clear brook that ran alongside the major walkway where fish could be glimpsed, swimming under the crystalline surface.

Larwinckle showed Garius around. Divah appeared from time to time, moving from shop to shop, attempting to take it all in. She was accompanied by several gnomish escorts who obviously knew the marketplace well enough.

Then Garius noted a mannish figure in brown robes with a hood about his head, walking alone. He seemed quite out of place and was roughly human in size, though Garius could not see his face… or skin for that matter.

“Who is that?” Garius asked Larwinckle as the figure slowed to stare at him, steadily walking past. He was a human—a man, older than his gait would suggest, Garius noted, witnessing the leathery skin of someone who must be well past sixty years of age. The warpriest also saw that he held something tight to his chest but could not make out what it was.

“That be a visitor from Safehold,” Larwinckle admitted in a whispered tone. “He is from the Order of the Faceless Knights.”

Garius was shocked at that revelation. “The Inquisition is in Dhegg?” he asked incredulously.  Larwinckle nodded in response. “They don’t much like bein’ bothered
or
bein’ the topic of our conversin’,” he stated confidently. “That’s fer sure!”

The man had stopped and was staring at Garius again for some reason, ignoring the significant distance between them, and making the warpriest feel uncomfortable. The distant figure held Garius’ gaze for a while, ostensibly sizing him up until eventually the hooded figure returned his attention back to his surroundings and then quickly disappeared around a corner. Garius turned back to Larwinckle and shook his head, though the gnome did not notice the exchange and ignored the gesture.

“I’ll be showin’ ye around the whole village for a tour if ye’d like now?” Larwinckle offered. “Maybe show ye some of our fine crafts, trinkets and even some of our finer foods,” Larwinckle added a bit more enthusiastically. Garius nodded and followed after the white-haired gnome, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Zan’kuros stood over Bralon’s former companions, who now lay dead inside Randermotten’s burrow, their bodies completely shredded and almost unrecognizable. Bits of flesh and gore stained the ground and walls. Randermotten had run screaming down the stairwell once they entered his home and lured the all-too-goodly knights to their ultimate demise in the sub-basement.

Zan’kuros first used Bralon’s strong arms and steel blade to slay the one called Micah. He accurately slashed between the armored plates, slicing through the man’s exposed neck before he realized the deception. The half-elven Paladin died clutching at his throat, his eyes wide in disbelief. Then Zan'kuros toyed slowly with the other, the human knight, Matthias, before showing him its true demonic form. Matthias fought fiercely and injured the demon a few times, causing blackened ichor to ooze from the demon’s wounds, before ultimately being torn to pieces by the demon’s natural weaponry. Zan'kuros was finally becoming comfortable with this fleshy host and was able to shift back and forth quite easily when necessary.

“Iff… you summon more of my… k-kin, then we will… take over the village f-for you,” Zan'kuros stammered, transforming back into the form of Bralon the Bold.

“I got plenty of lifeblood to perform a ritual,” Randermotten replied, gesturing to the shredded remains that covered his basement floor. “It will be time again soon,” he continued, climbing the stairs and standing outside in the mid afternoon sun. “Once the moon is full tonight, I’ll be more ‘n happy ta bring another here to aid in the quest. But,” he paused to regard the demon, “I want to be made lord and master of Dhegg once it is done!”

“Prepare the circle,” Zan'kuros nodded respectfully, staring at Randermotten through the face of Bralon the Bold. His eyes flashed red for a second before returning to their normal shade of brown. “I must rid us of the… warpriest, too. I understand that he is a s-significant threat… according to the thoughts of this… f-fleshling.”

“Aye,” Randermotten confirmed. “Take care of him and I’ll be havin’ another of yer kind here by the end of the eve. Just remember our deal, demon.” Randermotten spoke threateningly, for he held a symbol upon his person that had two significant properties. Firstly, it would protect him from the demon’s influence and secondly, it could banish the demon back to Pandemonium if he wished.

“I… remember,” Zan'kuros acknowledged, turning away from Randermotten and exiting the burrow, heading off to Hedgewin’s Tavern once more. Randermotten wasn’t exactly sure if his ears deceived him just then, but he was almost positive he heard very faint laughter in the distance as the demon disappeared behind the tavern door.