Tenebroum Ch. 40-41 (Patreon)

(Forgive the slightly late post today, I haven't been feeling the best. Hoping to get a whole pile of Golemancer chapters up later this week. We will see.)

Ch. 40 - The Infinite Dark

Krulm’venor’s walk was endless, but for him boredom was more of a concern than fatigue would ever be. No matter how far he walked into the bowels of the earth, he did not tire. He couldn’t. He was a deathless creature of fire and bone that was shackled to his tormentor by the thin thread of magical energy as much as he was by the runes that bound him to his new body to the Lich’s irresistible commandments.

On the surface and in the first few days below ground the godling had stumbled across a few prospectors to vent his volcanic wrath on, and when he was still close to the surface, he had found a goblin nest that had blocked his way. In both cases he had seared the flesh from their bones without a second thought. Though this body limited him in so many ways, the amount of destructive power he could marshal had only been enhanced. It wasn’t his power he was wielding though. It was the Lich’s, and it melted stone and steel as easily as it burned bone to ash in vicious blue gouts of flame that blackened any who would oppose him. That part at least should have been a thrill, but it wasn’t, not even when he got to wring the life from a particularly fierce warrior with his own hands.

It had been an awfully long time since he’d gotten to do that. He’d been without physical form for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like. Before now he assumed he’d been missing something as a creature of flickering fire that could only touch the world to destroy it, but that turned out not to be the case, at least that wasn’t the case as far as this body was concerned. There was no sense of taste or touch, and even the joy of burning a creature that threatened him to ash felt thin and far away compared to his time with the goblins. There the sacrifices of their fallen foes and been stringy and greasy, but at least they tasted like something while he devoured their essence. Now he didn’t even get to enjoy that.

He was alone and disconnected, walking ever deeper into a place that he was sure he’d been before, even if he had no memory of it.

Before he’d been a spirit of fire, he’d been a the stone burner. He’d been the god of forges in over a dozen cities of the deeps, but he could remember only the faintest details about any of that. The shape of an arch here, and the breaching of a fortress there. The memories were less than smoke, and they dissipated as soon as he focused on them.

Even though Krulm’venor loathed being ordered to do it, he didn’t hate being forced to return to the roots of the mountains. None of his kin were left for the Lich to hurt. He didn’t knwo why, but he was sure that he’d died long ago, and that was part of the reason he’d fled to the surface. It was madening that he couldn’t remember even that much, but he’d been reduced to bare embers too many times and if he ever hoped to rekindle those parts of himself, he would have to go back to the scene of the crime, and as deep as he’d gone, that was still somewhere far below.

At less than two weeks into his trip below ground, he was still in the lifeless area that marked the area that was out of reach by the surface creatures, but was still much too shallow for the creatures of the deeps. But they would come. The rock eaters, fungus dwellers, and the shadow crawlers - all the types would come for him as he descended deeper and deeper. They’d never be able to resist the flickering blue light that illuminated each tunnel he walked down.

On the rare occasion that dwarves needed to travel to the surface they would extinguish all their lights and travel in silence in all but the safest tunnels to avoid having to fight such beasts. It was said that— Krulm’venor’s thoughts trailed off suddenly as he realized that the thoughts he was having were not things he’d been able to remember before now.

Rock eaters? Shadow crawlers? As quickly as the ideas had appeared in his mind, they were gone again. He could remember thinking about them, but the words had no meaning to him. So he was remembering things.

That thought alone was enough to stop him in his tracks until the spirits that infested his bones threated to unleash their mayhem on him once more. Those threats started his feet moving again, but slowler this time, as the fire spirit reflected on the moment and tried to gauge whether or not anything else had been jarred loose.

The cities were still ghosts in his mind, but he had a better idea of just how deep they were now. Though there were some more shallow fortresses and trade hubs in critical areas, any self respecting dwarf lived deep enough that that his only enemy was time. That time was measured by the ceaseless forges of course, which is where his worship had been centered.

A cascade of details came flooding into his mind about that as he considered it. The tolling he always heard at the back of his mind hadn’t been battle as he’d thought it had been, but the blow of hammer on anvil as steel and mitheral were worked into something timeless and deadly.

Beyond that though, there was nothing, no matter how hard he tried to force his memory, there was only void, and Krulm’venor was frustrated all the more for being able to remember such trivial and insubstantial things.

. . .

Days later he found his first Kobolds. He remembered the lizard creature’s as soon as he saw them, and in his memories there was a hint of fear and revulsion associated with them, but he wasn’t sure why. Today though, he wasn’t impressed.

There were three of them, gnawing on a vein on rose quartz. They were intelligent humanoids with rust colored scales and a tapered snout that held three rows of metal teeth for grinding their favored ores and crystals into dust. In his foggy recollection they were big for their species, but none of them were over five feet tall. When they saw him they hissed, and began to slowly back away from him. At least that was until they notice the way that the light glinted off his metal skeleton.

That gave them pause. After that they conferred with each other with a series of whistles and clicks of their teeth, and then they redied themselves for battle. They had no idea what they were facing, but they knew how good the gold and steel that made up his cage would taste, so two of them extended their crystalline claws, and the third drew a knapped obsidian blade that would be less useful against it than their crude leather armor that looked to be made of goblin skins.

For a moment Krulmvenor was tempted to let them try to kill him. He knew that they wouldn’t be successful, but if they were to do enough damage to some of the runes that bound it perhaps it would finally be able to break free.

In end he wouldn’t be able to follow through with that thought though. Not because of the way the spirits in his body howled in outrage that he would dare rebel, but because of the revulsion he felt as they got closer. Corpse eaters. Grave robbers. Vermin.

Seeing the beedy red eyes of the lizard man uplclose as they thought they were about to score an easy meal sickened him. He no longer had a sense of smell, but even without he could smell the coppery scent of death around these bottom feeders.

Krulm’venor stepped back, pulling his arm out of the way as he suddenly remembered that their claws could do real damage to even the sturdiest metal armor that his forges had once produced. Creatures like this were best dealt with at a distance, via crossbow. He didn’t have one of those exactly, but he didn’t need such a toy to deliver death at a distance.

He flared the flames that were always flickering around him in a constant aura in a burst that was wide enough to scare the one that had lashed out at him further back. These things lived their whole lives in darkness, and though they could see in light, they did not enjoy it.

The fire spirit extended his hand and unleashed a torrent of fire just as he felt a new presence enter his mind. He’d known that the Lich’s connection would allow it to check on him at any time, but this was the first time that had merited it’s deathless gaze, and it weighed almost as heavily on him as his disgusted as he turned the first one into a bonfire.

“What are these things. These Kobolds?” the Lich asked silently in his mind. It was an invasion, but one he could do nothing to stop, especially while he was focused on the fight.

“They are lower than rats, or even goblins,” Krulm’venor growled back as he poured out white blue flames that made the Kobold’s flesh boil beneath its scales so that as it fell to the tunnel floor, the only thing that escaped its dying body was steam and smoke. “They devour civilization itself, and even stone walls will not keep them out forever.”

The other two bolted at the sight of their smouldering comrade, but before Krulm’venor could burn them to ashes as well, the Lich stopped him short.

“You want them to live?” The fire spirit asked, feeling the rage boiling up inside him.

“No. I want you to follow them back to their lair and murder them by the score. I want you to kill every last one you can find so that I can study their souls further. As creatures who have never seen the sun, they seem eminently suitable to one of several tasks, and their draconic bloodline…” The Lich’s voice trailed off after that. “Well - you have your orders hound. Go - fetch.”

And just like that Krulm’venor was striding forward again. Regardless of the anger and resentment that was building inside of him even as the Lich disappeared. No matter how much he wanted to slaughter those creatures, embarrassment of being forced to do so had completely ruined the moment for him.

They didn’t lead him very far, and it probably would have been able to find their warren even without the dumb things leading him right back. This deep underground there were only so many tunnels they could have gone down, and at a glance he could see which were natural, and which bore the telltale teeth marks of these rock eaters.

Then suddenly he turned a corner and he was there, in a Kobold warren. It was the last place any sane dwarf would have wanted to be. They would have considered such a plan suicide of course, and rightfully so. Having dozens of the things close enough to reach out with their claws and gut you in a room that was riddled with holes like a slice of soft cheese was nightmare. What good were the hundreds of hours spent drawing mithril into wire and forging that wire into link after link of sturdy chain mail if a monster like these could cut their way through it without much of a struggle?

Even as Krulm’venor looked around and found dozens of pairs of glittering eyes hidden in those holes, the fires in his ribcage and around his fist began to build. He wasn’t going to let the Lich ruin this for him. If there was one thing in the world he wanted to destory more than that cursed golden skeleton it was the bone eaters of the deep.

“All right you bastards,” he growled as he looked for the inevitable ambush. “Who wants to be the first to die?” Their numbers were effectively endless of course, but then, so was his anger.

Ch. 41 - Things that Shouldn’t be Seen

Todd lingered on death’s door longer than any of the other orphans with the Drowning came to Garvin’s gift. That had been the reason for everything that came after that.

That far from civilization they were almost skipped by the plague entirely, but in the end all it took was a sick caravan guard to lay everyone else low in a cycle of sickness and recovery that had taken weeks longer than elsewhere because the cult of the drowned woman had not come to help them.

He hadn’t been the sickest of course; several of the other young boys had died in the grip of the bone breaking fever. He’d just been the sickest one to survive. That he’d almost lost his grip on this life was no surprise to anyone, as stunted and malnourished as he’d been. The only surprise had been that he had lived at all while many stronger boys had died, but while he’d lingered in the darkness between life and death, he had seen her, and in his delirium he had been foolish enough to tell the sister that had tended tirelessly to his dying body about her.

He’d told her about the drowned woman and the way she had harvested the souls of those that had lacked the strength to swim to the surface. He doubted that anyone would have taken him seriously, except in the days that followed, while he was still too weak to stand, he could see which of those that struggled to breathe in the infirmary was going to be the next to die. In his feverish state he hadn’t been smart enough to keep his mouth shut, and each time he’d tried to warn them about the darkness swirling around the next victim.

That was why brother Faerber had traveled all the way from the holy city for the opening ceremony of the temple here. He said it wasn’t, but Todd knew better, even if he didn’t know exactly why, or why he knew. The brother wasn’t like any of the other priests he’d seen. He didn’t have a small glow, or sparkles of light when he made an invocation. The lights around him glimmered all the time, and when he beseeched Siddrim, lord of heavens for a boon, he truly shone with power. Driving all the darkness from the room away with his blessings.

Even before the brother pulled him aside to speak with him in private under the noonday sun, Todd knew that it was going to happen. In all the days before, during the ceremony and the mass after, he could feel the weight of his gaze upon him.

“Tell me about the drowned woman,” Brother Faerber said simply as they walked up the hill behind the small temple, so he could get a view of the town. Todd was hesitant, but the brother reassured him. “You’ve done nothing wrong child. I only seek to know the truth, in all things.”

“Well, if that’s true, then why are you taking me to the cemetery,” the boy asked nervously, making the priest laugh.

“I didn’t come all this way to execute you Todd,” he said patiently. “Even though there’s some blood on your hands there is not nearly enough darkness in your soul to justify such a thing. You’ve lived a hard life for one so young, and I won’t second guess that. I have merely come to learn about the woman you saw and your sight. Everything else can be forgiven later.”

Todd cringed at the realization that just as he could see light come from the priest that gave him clues about his godly nature, the priest might be able to look at him in the same way. He clasped his hands behind his back as if that could hide the way he’d let Cole die, or the way he’d encouraged Bradwin or Leo to follow in his footsteps once their bullying had become unendurable.

“I… It was like she was right there, in the room with me,” he faltered, not sure exactly what else to say. “ We were all laying there in our beds, floating on the surface of that dark water, but there was no floor, instead there were just monsters moving through the depths, and the sicker you got, the harder it became to keep your head above water, and sometimes they would grab someone and drag them below.”

“So you couldn’t see her clearly then?” the priest asked fishing something out of his pocket.

“No I could,” Todd swallowed hard, and his eyes flickered towards the sun for reassurance. The only darkness on this rugged slope was what they’d brought with them, and between its light and the priests, even the darkness of his own shadow was barely there any longer. “But she was hard to look at. She was a pretty lady, but she was so sad, and she was chained to something larger in the deeps. I couldn’t see it, but, but - I didn’t want to.”

“Did she look like this,” he asked, handing Todd a folded piece of paper.

He was hesitant to take it at first, because darkness dripped off it like the ink was still wet, but he steeled himself and did just that, reassured by the priest’s gentle presence. Earlier he’d thought that the man was going to execute him for his strange gift, or perhaps his crimes, but after their short walk to the top of the hill he found the priest’s presence strangely comforting.

The paper was a piece of parchment folded into quarters, and when he unfolded it completely he could see that it was a page of a book. The writing was meaningless to him, because he only barely knew enough letters to write his own name, but the picture that dominated the page didn’t rely on any of those to get its message across. His grip tightened as he studied her. The picture lacked the detail to give her eyes the sadness that he knew was there, but he was sure just the same.

Todd nodded, handing the drawing back to brother Faerber as quickly as he could. “That’s her, only she had long chains instead of the long hair the picture shows.”

“And were there any other differences you can remember? Anything at all?” the priest asked, studying the picture. “Was there anything else that should be in the picture?”

Todd thought long and hard as they trudged up the hill, trying to figure out what he could say to make the priest happy before he finally said, “What about the jewelry she was wearing?”

“Jewelry?” The priest asked.

“The thing the chains were attached to. She had golden bracelets on her wrists and ankles, and…” Todd answered, but the priest cut him off.

“That’s enough for now, thank you.” he whispered, making the sign of penitence. “Anymore and we’ll draw the evil eye upon us.”

“Am I cursed then?” the boy asked, as he felt the comfort that he’d held for most of their trek begin to fall away.

“No,” the priest insisted. “It’s just the opposite. You’re blessed by the gods with a terrible gift. You’ve been given the sight, and you’ll be able to see and do things that few others will ever be able to. Unless we develop your gift though, and sanctify it, you’ll probably just go mad.”

“But, I don’t want to go mad,” the boy insisted, feeling fear shoot through him. “Just tell me what I have to do, and I’ll—”

“That’s why I’ll be taking you back to the holy city with me,” the priest said talking over him. “The church does not waste such gifts, even when they come in the form of sickly young orphans like you.”

After that they prayed together on the hill top, and for the first time in a long time Todd wasn’t afraid to gave out to the wider world rather than staring at the dirt beneath his feet. From um here he could see the lake that the mages had built and the canal that linked it to the Oroza far to the south. From here he couldn’t see the evil wafting off that water, but he knew from trips to gather supplies that it was there. This close to town he wouldn’t be able to see the elemental spirits of mud and dust that sometimes wandered the red clay hillsides either.

From here he could see the spirits of the dead trapped in their own graves though. He could see how they would sometimes stagger up from the ground or reach out, even in daylight, though with the priest here studying him, he tried not to flinch at the sight.

“Even thought this is hollowed ground, they still can’t hurt you,” brother Faerber reassured him. “It is a rare graveyard that doesn’t have some spirits, and murder victims are always the most active.”

“You can see them too,” Todd asked?

“Of course.” the priest said, staring at Todd like he was looing right through the boy. “I see more than you can possibly imagine. My gift was not so strong as yours, but it has been nurtured by the church for longer than you have been alive. Such diligence pays off.”

“Can I learn that to?” Todd asked, feeling excitement rise in his heart for the first time in a long time.

“If the gods allow,” brother Faerber shrugged. “That is why I am bringing you and the cursed gold that the brothers have collected off the corpses of the dead over the last few years. We will see if either can be forged into a useful weapon for the fight that is to come.”

“The gold? You mussant” Todd said. In an instant both his sense of safety and excitement were banished by fear. “The goblins can feel it. I don’t know how, but they can. If you try to leave the red hills with any of their ore then they’ll tear you to bits!”

“I know,” the priest smiled. “I would love to see them try.”

He didn’t have to wait long. They stayed at the temple just long enough to consecrate the new building properly, and two days later, he and Brother Faerber along with his guards and his servants made their way back toward the dock where the ferry would arrive.

They made no effort to move quickly, and when the night came they did not attempt to seek shelter in a cave or defensible outcropping. Instead, they camped in a wide flat area that was almost entirely defenseless, and roasted meat that was sure to attract the goblin’s attention, even without the gold.

The little monsters came just after midnight, but Todd was too worried by the prospect of being murdered the same way his parents had been to get much sleep. He saw them coming in the night as their malice began to bloom red well past the edges of the firelight, and he went to warn brother Faerber, but the priest was already aware, and already praying. He seemed utterly unconcerned that they were already outnumbered 20 to 1, but Todd didn’t understand why until he unsheathed a sword that shined with almost as much light as the fire did.

“Wait in the light with the servants” he told Todd, and then he was striding out into the dark while his men stayed behind to guard those who couldn’t fight and their animals. Some of the goblins thought to try to men grouped around the campfire, but they met a swift end at the hands of the soldiers there.

The rest of them attacked brother Faerber in a tide of blood. Normally Todd shied away from such things, but he could not help but watch the hypnotic violence that happened over the next ten minutes before the goblins were utterly routed by a single man.

The way his holy blade glowed made it easy to watch every scything blow and brutal strike, but the way that he mowed down the goblins two and three at a time was not the most brutal part of the show. It was what they did to the priest that Todd found hard to watch. Despite the ease with which he dispatched the goblins, he did not walk away uninjured, or rather he shouldn’t have. Time after time, their spears and arrows found their mark, but each time the priest refused to die, healing almost instantly instead. In one case a warband leader riding a mangy boar managed to tear through the brother’s armor and disembowel him, but even that wasn’t enough to keep him from beheading the foul beast.

Five minutes after he strode off into the darkness the forces of evil were in retreat, though only at half the strength they’d started the night with, and the priest was returning to the light. As he sheathed his glowing sword it quickly became apparent that only his clothing and armor was the worse for the wear.

When he saw Todd gawking at him, he simply said, “don’t worry Todd, the god of blood and battle would never let me meet such an inglorious end at the hands of vermin.”

“B-but, how?” the boy sputtered, making the soldiers around him laugh.

“The gods reward those who spit in the face of death,” one of them answered as everyone else nodded in agreement.