Rangers magic 2, p.14
Ranger's Magic 2, page 14
The door was only wide enough to admit one person at a time. With a glance back at the humans, who were standing watching anxiously from about two hundred yards off, Ralnor drew his twin blades and plunged into the burial mound.
It became immediately clear to him that the mound itself only covered the entrance to something much bigger. As soon as he was through the narrow doorway, he found himself in a square chamber, low-roofed, stone-walled, and held up at all four corners with single standing stones. There was a damp, moldering smell.
In front of him, the floor opened up and a broad, stone-lined passage dropped away downward at a steep angle. Cold air flowed up from this passage, bringing with it a smell of damp and decay.
All three of them could see well in the dark, but Lana was best at it, being a night elf. Ralnor and Akhen both had the ability, since they were half-elves, and the elven ability for night vision was strong in them. But for Lana, night was as clear as day.
“I’ll lead,” she said shortly, and Ralnor felt her activating her force shield as she passed him. For his part, he allowed the spirit to flow in through his channels and got ready to use battle magic to enhance Lana if it became needed. A ripple of magic from behind him told Ralnor that Akhen was as ready for trouble as he was.
“Remember,” Akhen whispered, his voice echoing strangely in the small chamber, “if you need to use magic, don’t focus on it too much. The intention and the power are enough to make it happen.”
Ralnor nodded, and Lana stepped down into the passage.
The tunnel they were in took them straight downward into darkness. It was steep, and they quickly felt that they were deep underground. After about three hundred yards, the corridor turned a sharp corner, and Ralnor looked over Lana’s shoulder to see a wide-open chamber, richly carved with decorations.
Though his night vision was good, it was not needed anymore here. The whole chamber was illuminated in eerie blue light, the same light that had shone from the stones above.
The light came from runes that were carved into the pillars and columns that lined the walls. The chamber was circular, with a domed roof, and it looked to have been carved out of the very bedrock of the earth. There was a double row of round stone columns marching up the center from the entrance where they stood. Around the edges of the chamber, arched alcoves were filled with shadow. The floor was made of broad, cracked flagstones that were slick with moss and had mushrooms and ferns growing between their cracks. At the far end of the chamber, directly opposite the doorway, there was a tall stone chair on a dais.
Something sat slumped in the chair.
Bright blue glowing runes were carved into every surface of the walls, the columns, and the ceiling. Their light, after the bright day and the darkness of the corridor, was shockingly artificial. The blue glow was unpleasant, an unwholesome, dead light. It illuminated the space, but it seemed at the same time to drain all the life from it. The carved stone pillars would have been beautiful, the magnificent vaulted columns of the roof would have been a marvel to behold, but in the evil light all looked menacing and grim.
“This place is cursed,” Lana said. “We should not have come here.”
“We must press on,” Akhen said. “There is something here we need to see, something here we need to find. I can feel it in my bones.”
“I feel that if you go further, you might leave your bones here!” Lana replied.
Ralnor, fascinated by the ugly blue light, stepped past Lana into the chamber. Lana reluctantly followed him, and Akhen came along behind.
“Where is the thing you need to find, Akhen?” Ralnor asked in a hushed voice.
Akhen held up his hands and conjured a spell. White light glowed softly from his palms as he glanced around, then hunched over the spell for a moment, muttering words that Ralnor couldn’t hear.
Then Akhen looked up as the globe of white light he had conjured left his hands and hovered for a moment before floating across the chamber. The spell looked like a globular lantern, its soft light competing with the evil light of the blue runes.
“It’s a spell of finding,” Akhen said in a hushed voice. The spell floated up into the air until it reached head height, hovered for a moment, then floated in a straight line up the center of the two lines of pillars that marched up the middle of the hall. It was heading for the tall chair with the slumped, shadowy thing at the far end of the chamber.
“Whatever it is we need to find, it’s there,” Akhen said. “Up there, where that stone dias is.”
He stepped forward and Ralnor and Lana followed reluctantly. As they moved away from the entrance there was a sudden creaking sound from behind them.
They all whirled, just in time to see a metal portcullis slam into place in the doorway. Blue runes glowed maliciously all over its surface. It was thick, heavy steel, and obviously enchanted with whatever foul magic permeated this place.
A shuffling, groaning sound came from the opposite end of the chamber. They all looked up toward the dais. In the glow of Akhen’s finding spell, they saw the slumped, misshapen thing in the stone throne begin to move.
They were trapped.
Chapter 9
“Steady,” Ralnor said, his mind clearing and his battle instinct taking over. For a moment, as they had stepped into the chamber, he had been fogged, his mind drifting in fascination as he stepped into the blue glow.
Now he recognised that this had been a trap. There was likely some subtle magic around the door that prompted travelers to take that extra step forward, away from the outside, so that the chamber’s portcullis door could be activated to trap them.
The mind fogging spell was a weak one, however, and Ralnor’s Ranger training was more powerful. He assessed the situation quickly, speaking his thoughts out loud to his companions in a quick, low voice as he detailed their predicament.
“The door is shut,” he said, “and there is some kind of mind-fogging magic at work in this chamber. To the left and right of the dais at the far end of the hall I can see shadowed hallways, but I doubt either of them lead back to the surface. On both walls there are alcoves that probably hold enemies, but that thing in the chair—whatever it is—has to be the main source of the magic in the chamber.”
“What’s the plan?” Akhen asked.
“We need to wait and see what happens,” Ralnor said, “but I guess the figure in the chair guards some kind of treasure, since that’s where your finding spell went. Whatever it is, it won’t let us get close, I don’t think.”
“It’s not doing anything,” Lana said. “Not since it sat up.”
She was right. When the portcullis had slammed into place over the entranceway, the dark shape in the throne at the far end of the hall had groaned and sat up, resolving itself into a tall, dark, humanoid form that sat upright like a dead king in a nightmare throne.
The light from Akhen’s finding spell shone serenely down on the king, the globe hanging in the air about a foot above the throne and to the right. In its illumination, Ralnor saw a rusty helmet and the outline of a thin, skeletal face. On top of the helmet sat a tarnished crown that might once have been beautiful but was now as forbidding and nightmarish as the rest of the scene. Below the head, bony arms and shoulders were held within a dusty robe. Ralnor guessed that a long time ago, that robe would have been rich and fine, but it was now as tarnished and pale as the crown.
The figure’s thin knees protruded from the ripped fabric of its rotted leather trousers, and the feet were hidden in high boots of leather that gleamed dully in the blue magic light that illuminated the chamber. Whatever it was, corpse, ghost, or living undead, it was motionless now , making no sound or sign since it had sat up.
A dead king, Ralnor thought. A skeleton lord.
“How long has the king sat here in his stone chair?” he said out loud. “What is he guarding? What does he want from us? What magic is in this chamber that makes him sit up, that makes these runes glow?”
“We shall find that out,” Akhen said. “But now I suspect that we will not be able to leave this chamber until we have collected whatever it is he is guarding.”
“And I suspect,” Lana said darkly, “that whatever it is, he’s not likely to give it up without a fight.”
“Only too true, I suspect,” Ralnor said. “But nothing has happened yet. If there is some trap inside this chamber for us, then we probably have to trigger it.”
“And the way to do that,” Akhen added, “is undoubtedly to attempt to approach the skeletal king.”
“Let’s spring the trap then,” Lana said. “The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”
It did not take them long to find out the nature of the trap. Akhen was right. They had taken barely ten steps up the central pillar-lined walkway toward the skeletal king when there was a terrible creaking, cracking noise from both left and right, and Ralnor saw that his idea that there might be enemies hiding in the dark alcoves at either side of the chamber was correct.
They came in ones and twos from the shaded alcoves, horrible, shambling figures dressed in tattered leather and rusting steel iron armor. Their faces were not completely skeletal. Rather, they were like the remains of people who have been in the grave for only a few months. The skulls still had the framework of muscle and skin stretched across them, and in the empty eye sockets there glowed terrible pairs of twin red lights.
A thin, pained groaning emerged from the hanging mouths of these abominations as they moved with frightening speed toward the intruders. They were armed with a variety of weapons: spears, swords, shields, and two-handed swords or battleaxes. One was wielding a weapon like a mace, and the huge spiked head of the weapon was attached to the shaft by a long, black iron chain.
This mace-wielding monstrosity was larger than the others, and seemed inclined to take the leadership role. It had come from the middle of the left-hand wall, and it surged forward with greater speed and apparent agility than its companions. The others clustered around it, groaning horribly, while the mace-wielding captain whirled his weapon around in the air above his head and let out a terrible battle cry.
“With me!” Ralnor said grimly. “We’ll make our way up the central pillared walk toward the king in the throne, and we’ll smash our way through as many of these horrors as he chooses to send.”
“Yes!” Lana growled, grabbing her bow, and a flash of white light showed that Akhen was ready with a spell.
Ralnor ordered the advance. “Forward!” he cried, and set off up the long pillared central walk at a run.
The mace-wielding captain roared out a challenge and ran into his path. The captain really was a sight to behold. Nearly seven feet tall, he towered over the other warriors nearby. His face was more intact than the faces of the others, as well. Rather than the half-rotted aspect that the others presented, he still had most of his face—save the eyes—and he had a black beard of a size and length that would have put Bren to shame.
Ralnor had his twin channeling swords in his hands. He was solidly anchored to the earth, and the power that came from the spirit was flowing strongly through his channels.
The red crystal in his ring glowed as he lifted his eyes and glared fiercely at the enormous leader of the undead creatures that had been arrayed against him. His swords crackled green and white and blue as he let the magic flow into them. Then he raised them up and fired a blast of force magic straight at the terrible leader. The magic rolled in a wave across the floor, visible to Ralnor’s eyes as a white shape, flying through the air like a projectile fired from a catapult.
The mace-wielding captain raised his weapon in the air and howled out a horrible sound that might have been a laugh. To his horror, Ralnor saw the white blast of force magic that he had just fired being pulled up toward the mace.
Ralnor’s force blast whirled around the monster’s huge weapon and then dispersed in an explosion of white mist that gave Ralnor shock as if he had been hit. He staggered backward as if he’d run into a wall as he felt his magic dispersed back toward him.
“He is able to dispel my magic spells!” he cried. Then the realization struck him. “Of course! This thing’s weapon is made from black iron!”
Black iron was the only material known that could stop the effects of magic in their tracks. In his first combat with Malavax, Ralnor had learned this the hard way. Being in physical contact with black iron stopped the magician from being able to work his power at all. He’d learned that when he took a black iron arrow to the leg.
Thoughts hurtled through Ralnor’s mind as he halted his charge and took a few steps back toward his friends. The gigantic captain was now laughing and gloating over the small victory. Ralnor glanced from side to side and saw, as he had guessed he would, that the rest of the creatures all had some black iron on them, making them immune to the direct effects of magic.
The captain’s weapon was made of the stuff, but the smaller shambling horrors that surrounded him all had some of it on them somewhere. The cross guard of a sword, or a few heavy links of black chain around the neck, each one of them seemed to be displaying some element of magic-repelling black iron on its body somewhere.
But how could this be? How was it that these undead creatures, which were clearly animated and controlled by foul magic, were immune to the effects of the black iron that was all over them?
Ralnor filed the question away for later. Now was not the time for speculation.
“We will need to kill these creatures with more traditional methods!” he said. “They will not be able to be killed by magic!”
Lana pulled her bow from her back and loaded an arrow, then raised it and fired. The arrow flew past the leader and slammed into the middle of the head of one of the creatures behind him. The monster stumbled back, the arrow protruding out from the center of its bony forehead.
“At least they can be killed in the traditional way,” she said. “We have our work cut out for us!”
Ralnor’s initial charge had been slowed when his magic had been repelled by the captain, but now he ran forward with his twin swords raised and charged into the thick of the lesser minions.
They stank.
He whirled and spun like a dancer, slicing through the head of one monster and plunging his sword through the chest of another. Though they were undead and animated by magic, it seemed that beheading them or stabbing them through the heart worked just as effectively as if they were regular living men.
I may not be able to use my magic to attack them directly, he thought, but I can use it on myself and my friends to increase our ability.
He pushed magic out through his swords and called down the enhancement power of his battle magic. The magic flooded over him, and the bright, fierce green light that accompanied it washed over his skin and glowed from his swords. The glow of his magic was very welcome, a clean, wholesome light amid the evil blue of the chamber that now flashed and flared from the runes on the pillars around him. A frenzy of fighting power roared through Ralnor and he moved as quick as lightning as he hacked and slashed the heads from the horrible creatures.
Arrows thudded into the monsters as he waded through them.
Lana had held back, keeping her position beside Akhen, and using her bow from a distance to support Ralnor. He sent battle magic to her as well, and the green light crackled around her, improving her accuracy and increasing the already great speed with which she could reload and fire her bow.
The massive monster captain had fallen back a little, and Ralnor suspected that he wanted to let his minions do the work first. They would tire Ralnor out before he and the captain met in single combat.
But Ralnor was wrong.
Though the shambling undead that followed him were stupid and seemed to have no will of their own, the big captain was more cunning. While Ralnor was engaged in fighting the minions, the captain had maneuvered to get closer to Lana and Akhen.
Ralnor was churning his way through a sea of undead enemies when he heard Lana’s cry. “Ralnor!” she shouted. “Help!”
He glanced up and caught a glimpse of the huge monstrous captain suddenly charging toward Lana and Akhen. Akhen fired a blast of flame toward the creature, but the big captain, as he had done with Ralnor’s force spell, caught the magic on his mace and dispelled it in a fiery blast.
Lana fired off a flurry of arrows that thudded into the chest of the captain, but they did not even seem to slow him. He roared as he charged forward, his giant black mace raised for a killing blow, when Akhen used force magic in a creative way. He could not use it to shield himself against the blow of the black iron mace, but he could use it to get himself and Lana out of the way of the attack.
A flash of white light accompanied Akhen’s force magic spell, and he and Lana were surrounded by a globe of force that lifted them and moved them swiftly to their left. The undead captain’s mace smashed into the floor of the chamber, sending up a cloud of dust and shards of sharp stone that hurtled away in every direction.
Ralnor pulled one sword from the pulped skull of an enemy and lifted a foot to kick another out of his way. Then he slammed both his swords together and fired force magic at the undead captain’s back. The blast manifested like a missile, a long, straight, pointed shaft of white light that punched into the undead captain’s back with the force of a bolt from a ballista.
The captain, struggling to pull his mace from where it was wedged in the floor, was unable to use the black iron of his weapon to dispel the blast, and so he took the bolt of force full in the small of his back.
Guts and shards of bone exploded from his front as the bolt smashed through him, and he let out a choking, gurgling howl of rage as he lost his grip on his weapon and stumbled forward under the impact of the blow.
The spike of force vanished after it had done its work, but Ralnor suddenly found himself too busy to send another one. An undead minion had leaped onto his back and was trying to get its foul-smelling teeth to close on Ralnor’s neck. There was a fumbling at his feet, and he found that another minion had grappled his legs and was pulling him downward.
