The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (33 page)

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Authors: Tom Bielawski

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BOOK: The Tomb of the Dark Paladin
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The creature was noisy, far noisier than Shalthazar liked for an instrument of death, a hunter of the Shadows. After this experiment was complete, they would have to revisit the procedures used in its creation to encourage more finesse of movement, perhaps allowing it more control over its limbs. He almost laughed out loud as the creature stumbled and fell as it attempted to negotiate a rock wall. It lay on its side, kicking and making itself move in a circle on the ground until the creature finally figured out how to stand. Once righted, it clambered over the wall and began moving onward toward the cottage.

"Is there something wrong with the spell, Master?" 

"Perhaps we need to add in a formula to give it enhanced dexterity and coordination, an assassin cannot be so clumsy."

"But a solider can. I could cast a ward of silence around the golem to keep it from making so much noise, making it a better soldier. Perhaps we should consider a different subject for an assassin."

"Excellent observation, apprentice. Shadowblade seems to possess more than enough skill to carry out assassinations. What we truly need are soldiers."

The two wizards looked on as the creature trudged toward the cottage on the periphery of the small village. Shalthazar wondered how the Ayersmen living there hadn't heard the cumbersome creature approaching yet. As the creature came within one hundred yards of the cottage a barrage of arrows appeared in the air, seemingly from nowhere, and rained down onto the creature's head and torso. Shalthazar and his men had known the Ayersmen were there of course, the wizard wanted see how his creation would react to being attacked.

"Ah, there are our friends now," whispered Shalthazar, a smile playing about his lips. The Ayersmen patrol, hidden from view but not from powerful magic, could be heard cheering as their volley hit home. Although the creature could feel no pain, the arrows did cause it damage. Then, another volley of arrows thrummed through the air and buried themselves in the creature's soft hide. It dropped to its knees, slapping at its head as though it were trying to rid itself of a cloud of angry wasps. Arrows struck the creature in the head again as well as in the shoulders, upper back and thighs. Finally, enough arrows penetrated the creature's head that the enchantment was broken, the creature simply disintegrated into a pile of dust. The Ayersmen patrol crept cautiously from their positions of safety to see their handiwork up close.

Shalthazar nodded, as though expecting exactly what had happened. He smirked at the bold Cklathmen. They had seen this type of horrific monster before and they were becoming confident now in their ability to slay it. That would soon change.

"What did you see, apprentice?" the dark elf chuckled as he turned to face Zerelis.

"Our creation is as unfamiliar with its body as a newborn babe. It cannot think for itself, it cannot negotiate obstacles well, and it is susceptible to physical attacks. Perhaps there needs to be a training regimen before we can deploy the creations, Master."

"We need to adjust the spell one final time."

"Why does it turn to dust?"

"That is by design. It is a mechanism intended to prevent the enemy from learning how to control and use our creations against us. In addition, we can design the spell so that when the creature is destroyed it will do more than just turn to dust." Shalthazar watched as the rambunctious Ayersmen collected up their arrows and inspected the dust pile that had been a deadly monster. "Now we understand its basic limitations and we can properly prepare the next soldier."

"And with the Cauldron of Bones there will be no limit to how many we can make!"

"We will have to send word to Arawyn, he should be able to apply these principles to even the simple spells that animate corpses."

"I shall make the notification myself, Master."

Shalthazar nodded and turned away from the scene, walking deeper into the woods.

"What about these Ayersmen? They have seen two iterations of this corpse golem. Shouldn't we finish them now?"

"Yes." Shalthazar turned his hooded head toward Zerelis. "Dispose of them." Then a shadowy opening appeared amidst the trees and the dark wizard slipped into the realm of Shadows, leaving Zerelis to wipe out the enemy village.

 

 

The darkness was stifling, yet comforting. The dank smell that permeated the room was powerful and reminded him of home. And in the darkness he was home. He was reminded of the many accomplishments of his long, long, life on his home world. There were times, even now, when the dark wizard questioned the wisdom of his bargain with the foul god of Llars. He thought of his palace and hundreds of servants and rooms full of treasure and gold. He thought of the peasants that worshiped him as a god in the old world, and the nation he built that proclaimed him a holy monarch. At times he longed to return to his home and take his revenge upon those of his kin that had cast him out of his beloved homeland, for a cast out elf was marked and doomed to a life of drudgery and crime. In all his long centuries, Shalthazar had never returned to his homeland. He still dreamed of exacting his revenge upon the proud and united elves.

What he needed, what he wanted most, was the power to break them. He wanted to subjugate and enslave his people, make them acknowledge him as their god on bended knee. This was to be the reward from Umber for his labor. The god-like power that Umber himself wielded would be more than enough to conquer his home world and proclaim himself their god. It was a feat that had been attempted before, on his home world and on this one. Yet each time it was attempted, the attempt ended in failure. But the prize was close now, tantalizingly close. The military campaign could not have gone better, but the campaign for that which Umber truly desired had been riddled with failure. He shuddered involuntarily as he recalled his last visit with the vile god. Shalthazar knew that Umber was planning to cheat him of the reward he deserved; how could the god of deception and lies do otherwise? And now that Medov had arrived, the dark wizard knew the manner in which the god's betrayal would come. He knew the limits of Umber's power and exactly how he had beaten the all-powerful Zuhr's ban on the use of the Sigils; he was using that knowledge to devise his own plans.

A sound from above penetrated the inky blackness. Footsteps echoed along the damp spiral staircase, softly at first, then louder. Shalthazar, power enhanced by the darkness and shadow, was able to see far beyond his own limits and knew that the visitor was Zerelis. As captain of Shalthazar's Wizard Corps, Zerelis was a formidable sorcerer in his own right. He was one of the few that Shalthazar had sensed the power of the Shadow Sigil in very early on. The man was an adept student and absorbed much of the secrets of the Shadow Sigil simply by observing his master. He excelled in practical application of magical theory, had improvised existing spells, and had even created a few of his own. There were none among his apprentices who could rival Zerelis in power, except perhaps his brother, Urelis.

As he awaited the arrival of his underling, he returned his thoughts to the most pressing matter, that of the foul-willed Umber. He knew the conniving god would be difficult to defeat, but not impossible. Umber's orders for the little device were explicit, perhaps overly so. It must be deposited in the Everpool at all costs, therefore the Everpool must be located at all costs. Umber claimed that the box would destroy the waters sacred to another of the First Six, and that its destruction would weaken the others of the First Six. But Shalthazar knew a great deal of the so-called gods of Llars, and he doubted very much that the destruction of the pool of sacred water would do exactly what Umber promised. There had to be another reason. Umber had made no mention of the fact that there was a being trapped inside the device. Shadowblade learned that himself. It was far more likely to the dark elf that that the powerful magic of the water would destroy the enchantment that was holding the evil being that was trapped within. Umester. 

The door to his chamber opened and the blue elf from the northern glacier walked in. Medov seated himself before the dark elf and placed a small crystalline ball on the desk. With a whispered word that Shalthazar did not understand, the crystalline ball flared with multicolored light and suddenly an image appeared in the air above, neither elf spoke. Images of demons and angels and gods came and went before their eyes, telling a story that the dark wizard was not pleased to learn.

"Well," he said when the images ceased. "That was a rather dire story."

"The world as we know it is doomed, Shalthazar."

Shalthazar was silent for a long moment, pondering. Then, "In all my centuries of life never have I been inclined to align myself with the cause of those who claim virtue."

"It would seem there is little choice, Shalthazar. While I do not care for the idea, I care even less for the idea of becoming food for a demon."

"Erestonin is to suffer the same fate as the rest of the world?"

"Not entirely, no. We Frost Elves will be little more than the servers in charge of managing the demons' food supply."

"What need have we to meddle?" he asked pointedly. "We are, all of us, powerful enough to escape this madness. We could flee to the moon, Hastor, and live in luxury at the expense of the primitive savages who live there. There are many other worlds to explore and exploit." Even as the wizard spoke the words, he was loath to simply give up what he had worked so hard to attain. And, he reminded himself, Hastor was rumored to be home to dwarves and a lost race of elves. Perhaps it was not such an appealing escape.

"Do as you will, wizard," said the assassin. "I made my own bargain with one of the gods of Llars, and I have come to regret it. I have betrayed my country and my people. I do not care what becomes of Erestonin, they are mindless automatons who only do the bidding of the Dark Disciples and of the filthy demons of the nether realms. I have far greater ambition and desires than they, and I will not let them throw it all away."

"What do you suggest, General?"

"You have a formidable corps of wizards and two powerful assassins to work with. Arawyn will soon have the Cauldron of Bones. Zach and Urelis will reach the Ogre Tribes -and now you have a dragon."

"A paltry army in the face of Umber's demons, General."

"These gods are petty and small, they can be killed."

"Indeed?" asked the wizard, eyebrow raised slightly. "How?"

"In the mortal realms, the gods are vulnerable to physical attack."

"It has been tried before, and it ended in failure. Umber won't be so easily fooled."

"He won't have a choice," replied the blue elf.

Shalthazar smiled. Perhaps things could work out after all. 

 

C H A P T E R

F I F T E E N

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