Mark of the Fool

The slaughter was just that: an undeniable rout; quick, brutal and one-sided.

Minus their wizard, the demons fell into chaos, trampling each other, fighting to get claws and fangs into prey bold enough to attack their necromancer. More frenzied tiashivas seemed to lose all reason, slashing the backs of their own allies standing between them and the mortals breaching their lair.

Those who made it to the front quickly learned who was prey, and who were the actual predators.

Hart’s sword blurred around him, cutting a crimson path of death through the frantic demons. Theresa was close behind, swords cleaving double-cuts with every stroke, and Claygon and Grimloch came next, leaving their own swath of destruction in their wake from both war-spear and maul.

The trembling man—his rich garments splattered in gore—shrieked in terror as the last of his bodyguards fell, leaving him alone with a menacing party of warriors and spellcasters who clearly meant him no good.

He held up his hands—most fingers sparkling with gem-encrusted rings—in surrender. “Wait, wait, wait! D-don’t kill me! I-I’m a prisoner here! They were going to sacrifice me!”

One look at his body language revealed lies were pouring from his lips, and Alex stalked toward him, his staff raised. The man whimpered, his terror rising, cringing away from the towering wizard. “Wait! I’m innocent! I—”

“Stop,” Alex’s tone was flint. “I know that you’re lying. Tell us the truth or I’ll peel the flesh from your bones.”

“Mercy, no! No please!” The man’s voice grew shrill. “I-I-I can pay you! I’m rich… I’m a successful merchant! If you guarantee my safety, I can—”

“We don’t have time for this,” Khalik cut him off, glancing at Alex. “Could you have Claygon carry him? It would be better if we could interrogate him while we’re on the move.”

“Agreed,” Alex smiled, looking up at Claygon. “Good job on the demon-slaying, buddy. Would you mind picking this man up and bringing him along with us? You don’t have to be too gentle.”

‘Yes…father.’ His golem reached toward the hapless man with one enormous stone hand.

The merchant squealed like a frightened pig, beginning to loudly pray to the Traveller knows who, as he was hoisted from his feet and roughly shoved under one of four arms. From the foul scent suddenly filling the air, it seemed he’d soiled himself.

“Ugh, definitely gonna need to wash you when we get out of here, Claygon,” Alex grunted.

‘I…would…enjoy that, father,’ his golem said.

Towing the screaming merchant—the war-party left the chamber, flying down the hallway and picking up the path toward their quarry. All the while, the merchant bawled, pleaded and bargained, offering promises of vast wealth.

“Alright, you.” Alex glared at the man as they reached a sloping passageway. “Who in the hells are you, and what are you doing here? And—if you even think about lying—that arm you’re tucked under…won’t hesitate to crush you, am I clear?”

“Alright, alright!” The merchant cried. “No need for that! My name is Herinrich Streppler! I-I’m from the Torgundy!”

“That is a remote area northeast of the Rhinean Empire,” Isolde said. “What would a merchant from our world be doing in the hells?”

“B-bartering!” The man was almost in tears. “I’m securing a measure of…security. Sennara—the wizard you just killed—promised she could secure some protection for me! She promised me dozens of demons!”

“What in all hells? You’re here for demons…like you’re going shopping at some market?” Alex frowned, reading the man’s body language. He fidgeted constantly, averting his eyes and sucking his teeth. “No…you’re hiding something. Claygon, crush him.”

“No, no, no! Wait!”

“Alright, Claygon, give him a minute, but no more.” The young wizard held his hand up. Claygon began to count.

“So, why are you really here then, Mr. Heinrich Streppler!”

“Alright, alright…I…I’ve been working with Ikharrash for awhile,” he murmured. “Sennara put me in contact with him! I…I’ve been using demons to eliminate my rivals. I must say, it’s been very effective!”

“I can imagine,” Alex said dryly. “So, what are you still doing here?”

“It’s something of a getaway for me!” Heinrich moaned. “The jungles…the red lightning…it’s a nice change from our world, I find it quite beautiful and safe. Sennara arranged for me to be able to spend time here when I wanted. I even have servants to look after my every need.”

“Uhuh,” Alex shuddered, raising an eyebrow as he remembered Baelin and Zonon-In. “Is that all?”

“I…well, what I told you about security is true. I did want more security!” He insisted. “Th-there’s been problems to the north. The Irtyshenans have been pushing into the forests at Kymiland’s western border and stirring up the monsters around there. They’ve been getting rowdy. It’s only skirmishes so far, but bad enough that there’s been a steady stream of monsters and bandits being pushed down into Torgundy. The roads aren’t safe! I lost three shipments last week! So…so…”

“So this Sennara offered to get you demonic caravan guards?” The Thameish wizard asked, his interest suddenly piqued. “And how long ago did this conflict start? The one between the Kymiland and the Irtyshenans?”

“Only recently,” Heinrich murmured. “But, it’ll be a full blown war soon. Lots of profit to be made for those willing.”

“Interesting…and—”

“Hold on, Alex.” Thundar raised his hand. “There’s something I’d like to know. “What’d you give these demons in return? Demons don’t work for free and last I checked, they don’t work for silver and gold.”

Heinrich paled. “I…I don’t want to answer that.”

“You will answer.” Thundar’s eyes seemed to burn. “Or I’ll put your eyes out with my horns.”

“No, no, please!” The merchant begged the minotaur. “I don’t…look…there’s…they like to scare things down here,right? And…well, my home city has plenty of vagabonds, too many for that matter. I…I thought I’d just put them to use! Folk no one would miss!”

Silence hung over the group like dense fog.

“What’d y’just bloody well say, man?” Cedric demanded, glaring down at the man with naked disdain. “Are y’meanin’ t’tell me y’took innocent folk an’ brought ‘em to this cesspit t’be bloody tortured by demons for the rest o’ their lives? Just s’y’could get yerself some bloody guards?”

“P-please! Y-you must understand! I have a family to feed! D-demons are ferocious fighters!” Heinrich murmured. “A-and it keeps margins down!”

Alex’s jaw hardened. “You bast—”

He paused.

The orb had grown almost burning hot in his hands.

“Uh…guys,” Hart said. “We’ve got company!”

They had rounded a corner, coming upon an immense underground passage at least twice the size of any other they’d encountered. At the end, a massive gateway rose, one that could have served as the front gate of a fortress in the material world.

It was framed by two monstrous statues of massive, hyena-headed demons, with the corpulent bodies of humanoid toads, and a third—identical in every way—was perched on a ledge right above the door like a looming gargoyle.

“Eek!” Heinrich screeched. “Please no! Get away from here! Those are Azzad, Zabai, and Osshar’s personal chambers! Ikharrash’s sons! You’ve just killed us!”

“You’ll die first if you don’t shut your trap,” Grimloch growled, flashing his bloody teeth.

The merchant fought his whimpering, going as quiet as a mouse and whiter than a sheet as he trembled in Claygon’s grip. Alex glowered down at him, imagining all sorts of nasty things for this nasty man before turning his attention back to the gate.

He opened his mana senses, carefully feeling for wards or magical traps set in the stones, the doors, or the titanic statues. An eyebrow rose when a tingle of mana came from inside the room, not outside.

“There’s some pretty powerful magic in there,” he said. “As if we needed more confirmation that we found the right place.” His eyes scanned the enormous hall. “Huh…does anyone else find it odd that there’s no guards posted outside?”

“Baelin’s probably pulled most of ‘em away, I’m thinking,” Thundar suggested, sipping water from his canteen. The minotaur cocked his head, listening for sounds of Alex’s summoned monsters clashing with demonic hordes in the distance. “Then there’s your summoned monsters running around, distracting them…but yeah, it is kinda weird the door’s completely unguarded.”

“Unless they are using siege-defence tactics,” Prince Khalik suggested. “Perhaps they’re waiting inside the room, ready for us to come through the doorway: that will put us in a bottleneck for them to easily destroy us as we come in.”

“Fireball formation, as they say,” Isolde said grimly. “It is what I would do.”

“Shit,” Alex swore. “It’s what I would do too.”

“Aye, didn’t even think o’ that,” Cedric murmured, eyeing the statues. “Ravener-spawn lay traps n’such at times, but they don’t usually set up big barricades an’ have organised resistance. It’s differe—Hart, what’re you lookin’ at?”

The Champion was squinting at the three statues. “Something doesn’t look right.” He nodded toward them. “From here, we should be seeing stone in the backs of those mouths…but it’s all dark in there, like…”

“Like the mouths’ have no stone back there.” Theresa nodded. “Yeah, I see it too. It almost looks like there's a metal pipe buried in the stone.”

“Yeah, That’s why I was looking for murder holes,” Hart grunted. “Bet you they pump boiling oil or lava on top of anyone trying to get in through the front doors. Clever bastards.” He pointed at the lightning forks. “You hammer on the doors, trying to batter your way in, then they pour lava on you and zap you with those magic forks. And—if you’re not dead then—they probably open hidden hatches in the stone and fill you with arrows, or more lightning. All they gotta do after that is walk out, and stomp your corpse.”

“Clever,” Drestra growled. “We would have been back at the clearing if you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, but what’re we gonna do about it?” Hart said. “I guess maybe if Claygon charges, he could break down the doors real quick, but they’d still be funnelling us into a death trap.”

“Then we don’t go into their death trap,” Khalik said, his focus on Heinrich.

The merchant looked as though he was going into shock.

So the prince slapped him.

“Ah!” Heinrich squealed. “What? What do you want now?”

“You’ve been to this fortress many times; from what you say it’s your vacation home, right? Are there any other rooms adjacent to that chamber?”

“Um, y-yes?” Heinrich nodded toward another passage across the hall. “There’s kitchens and such for Ikharrash’s three sons, and there are some other doorways that lead into their quarters. B-but those’ll be guarded! I’ll die if you take me there!”

“I’m not interested in other entrances,” the prince said. “I just need you to lead me to a room that shares a wall with this chamber.”

Alex’s eyes lit up. “Okay, that’s a good idea. Tell you what, I think I can make it even better.” He lifted his staff, feeling the mana within.

A good deal of it had regenerated.

“I’ll summon a horde of hell-boars and have them charge the doors. That’ll give these bastards something to think about,” Alex said.

“And then what’s the plan?” Drestra asked.

“We’ll discuss it after we leave this hall,” Khalik said. “No doubt we are being watched and listened to by the brothers, so let’s just leave them guessing, shall we?”

With that, the group fell silent as Alex began summoning an army.

“Here!” Heinrich pointed his chin toward a door close by. “That’s one of the kitchens! It shares a wall with the main chamber!”

“Excellent,” Alex nodded to his golem. “Claygon, get the door, would you?”

A single blow of his massive stone fist opened the kitchen door, allowing him and the hyperventilating merchant to enter. ‘The…door…is open, father.’

“Good work, buddy,” Alex floated in, leading his companions.

In the distance, hell-boar squeals echoed through passageways along with dull thuds from monstrous skulls hammering on reinforced doors. Beyond that, shrill demon voices grew louder…as the chaotic sounds of clashing between demons and his summoned monsters died down.

“I think the enemy’s about done with my distractions,” Alex said grimly. “They’ll be on us, soon.” He nodded toward the wall on the opposite end of the cavernous kitchen. Gut-churning scents rising from massive ovens made him glad he didn’t know what was being roasted. “Khalik, you think you can do it?”

“I think so,” the prince said thoughtfully, floating past a row of cauldrons—each large enough to fit Grimloch, Brutus, and Claygon into—bubbling with a ropey-looking green liquid inside. He touched the stone wall, closing his eyes, muttering an incantation. “Yes. I can do it from here!”

“Do what, exactly?” Cedric demanded. “Care t’let us dumb ones in on the plan, y’masters o’strategies?”

The prince turned, jerking a thumb toward the wall. “I will be using a spell to weaken and open the stone here.”

“Then I’ll have Claygon charge through it, breaking a great big hole in the side of their chamber,” Alex smiled. “Then we all rush in while they’re caught off-guard and… we break them.”

“Aye…aye!” Cedric’s eyes lit up. “I like the sound o’that! So, then we…huh.” He abruptly turned to the Sage. “Say…Drestra, I’ve got me’self an idea. Would y’mind helpin’ out wit’ it?”

“If it lets us kill more demons easily, it’d be my pleasure,” her voice crackled through her veil.

“Aye, good.” The Chosen smiled. “Why don't we give these little demons an even bigger surprise?” His eyes went to the bubbling cauldrons. “Somethin’ t’grab their attention.”

“Hold on now.” Hart looked down at Heinrich, his grin absolutely evil. “What about two more surprises?”

Now it was Alex’s turn to smile. “See? You’re already learning more about cooperating and using your resources. Ain’t that a grand thing?”

Together, the companions hatched their plan.