A gargoyle explores inside Mormont Moutain. |
The walls of Mormont are frozen waves of volcanic rock. Endless black tunnels twisted beneath the mountain, connecting caverns and cliffs. The heat within was unbearable and the smell of sulfur was so thick it would choke the life from a normal man. Bones and rotting corpses lay covered in dust. Nothing seemed to thrive here, but darkness. An unsteady patter of footsteps broke the silence. A yellowing flicker spread across the glassy surfaces, mixing with shadows cast by the dead. Eanatas shuffled in, stirring up a cloud of dust. The glow from his torch showed his red, fiendish face. Black eyes glistened above a huge, freakish grin, almost touching his pointed ears. Humming playfully, he grabbed at bits and pieces of bone, sifting through armor and weapons left by fallen adventurers. He sniffed at a wineskin, and wrinkled up his doggish snout. He tossed it aside and began to dig in a heap of armor that bore a human skeleton. When he pulled at the end of an arm covered in rotting flesh, it tore open, releasing a horrible scent. His mouth dripped, as a snake-like tongue curled and twisted, lashing out around long, sharp teeth. He pulled away the heavy chest plate covering the man’s upper body. Ripping open the soft skin, he stuffed the entrails into his mouth. The long, grey pieces burst open, widening his throat as it filled his stomach. Feeling satisfied, he took the torch and waddled back into the tunnel. His wings tapped along the ground with each hopping step. He drew in a deep breath of sulfur, and remembered his life in the vile stenches of hell. Visions of tormented souls, crying out for mercy, ran through his mind. That life was gone now. He had a new world to torment.”Make suffer, long suffer.” Rearing his head, he squealed out a long, high pitched scream that echoed down into darkness. Ahead, the passage was steeper and seamed in hard, packed earth. The impish creature had to shorten his steps as he held onto hanging roots to keep from sliding. A quick beat of wings carried him the distance across a gaping crevice. He worked his way around the twist of intersecting tunnels, stopping only to sniff out the right direction. Forcing his way around a boulder; half buried in the wall, he stood on a ledge overlooking a great cavern. From here, Eanatas could see a river of boiling orange lava, flowing far below. Thick columns of grey stone rose from the floor and widened out into the ceiling. He leaned out over the edge and fell forward. Air filled the flaps of pink skin connecting the thin bones of his wings. He glided into the center and looped around the main column. His curled wings worked at the air to keep his swollen belly from dragging him down. On the far side, he stretched out his legs, and landed in an opening. Plodding toward a light at the end of the tunnel, he quietly snuffed out the torch and eased forward, listening. This opened into a much smaller room. Eanatas watched, still hidden in the shadows of the tunnel. Inside, shimmering balls floated near the ceiling. Roughly hewn tables were pushed against curving, stone steps. At the top was a wooden door held by iron hinges. A desk of polished ironwood was set against a wall covered with shelves, containing fine relics and magical oddities. There amongst the stacks of scrolls and parchments sat his master. Karnuke read from a leather bound book. His concentrated stare followed the lines describing a mixture for healing severe cuts or open wounds. His thick, black tufts of hair fell straight, down his back. He sipped broth from a cup as he turned the page. Darrius Kettlemen, Master of Healing The following contains the equal parts mixture: Nettle (For bleeding) Willow Bark (For pain) Guelder Rose (To relax muscle) Comfrey (To speed the healing) Crush ingredients in a brass bowl. Making sure the berries of the Guelder Rose are removed. Their poison is deadly to men. Place the paste on the wound and cover with Colocasia Leaves. The Colocasia is only found on the Isles of Scilly. Acanthus Leaves may serve as well. Karnuke sensed a presence and looked up from his reading.”Have you brought me what I asked for?” His gaze pierced the shadow Eanatas was hiding in. The creature sulked into the light, fumbling with a small pouch hanging around his neck. He loosed the string that held it closed and took out a folded parchment. His Master took it from him. “The troops of Mormont will descend upon Bolta by nightfall, the day after tomorrow.” A month had passed since he set his army to attack the city of Bolta. Many officials and representatives from Bristol were headed there to consider plans to oppose Karnuke. This dark sorcerer had begun taking lands in the west, and fear was spreading across the country. Bristol had been at peace for more than six hundred years. The inhabitants were content, living out their lives among many different clans. King Firwood had taught them how to live in harmony, and now fear threatened to unravel the ties that made Bristol a strong and fruitful nation. “Send this to Commander Hollander.”Karnuke rolled a small note up and shoved it into the pouch around the gargoyles’ neck. In a rasp of words, Eanatas spoke,” Me go woods?” His master replied,” Send the letter, beyond that, I couldn’t care what you do. Just be here in the morning. We shall leave at first light.” The evil sorcerer turned back to his desk and continued his studies. Eanatas climbed the stairs and pushed open the door. Following the corridor, leading upward, he thought of the woods, north of Mormont. This world was new to him and he found that the woods held a power. The sound of cheerful birds calmed him. The trees, alive and green, gave him a sense of wonder. The animals moved about, not giving him a second glance. He didn’t understand any of it, but wanted to feel more of it. He wanted to feel. He exited the corridor into bright sunlight. Squinting, he basked in its warmed. It wasn’t the same as heat from below. There was a path leading down to a stone building. At a tall iron gate, which stood at the base of the mountain, he was could see a man wearing a white woolen shirt. He was leaning back in a chair against the building. When the man saw him, he jumped up and headed to the gate. “Eanatas,” Smiling, he swung the gate open. Hugh had talked to the gargoyle about the birds and the animals in the woods. He tried to explain the strange things of this world, but Eanatas couldn’t grasp the concept of being able to do as one would want, living free in the woods, under the warm sunshine. He flared his nostrils, taking in Hugh’s scent, as the man took the letter from the pouch. “Go on, I know your wantin’ to visit that bloody forest.” Eanatas turned and bolted away. He raced gracefully on all fours. To be continued |