Читать книгу The Vlishgnath Chronicles - Daniel Mitchell - Страница 13

Episode 7

Flies spewed forth from the creature’s mouth, surrounding the three men and working into the crevices of their armor to bite at their flesh. Vlishgnath and Thunderclese began to flail about wildly, swatting at places on their armor where they were being bitten.

Maximus snarled, ignoring the biting insects, while reaching back to retrieve Judgment from its holster. The demon hissed at him in response, the flies grouping together tightly to sharpen its features. Advancing at a purposeful pace, Maximus brought Judgment back behind him, gripping the handle upside down in both hands. Closing in, he brought the massive greatsword forward in a powerful swing, then, redirecting the sword’s momentum, he brought it up above his head in a 360 degree spin, before directing it downward towards the demon’s head in a bisecting cleave. Both times the edge of the blade met almost no resistance, the clustered insects parting to allow the blade to pass through harmlessly.

The demon drew back its right arm, the flies coalescing into a fist before slamming into Maximus with a surprising amount of force. Maximus staggered, forced to take a step back to keep his balance, taking only a moment to rotate his grip on Judgment by 90 degrees before drawing back and swinging again. This time, the flat, wide side of the blade struck the creature, knocking a swath of flies out of the air and disrupting the pack, causing them to scatter about wildly for several seconds before quickly regathering and reforming into a humanoid shape.

Maximus chuckled and took a moment to adjust his grip on the handle of Judgment. Tensing and relaxing the muscles in his chest and arms, he drew in a deep breath, and quite suddenly let out a bestial howl, leaning forward and putting all of his breath into it. Vlishgnath and Thunderclese paused in their wild flailing to take notice, even the demon tilting its head slightly as it looked upon the giant warrior with uncertainty. Then, with surprising speed, Maximus lunged forward at the creature, the flat side of Judgment swinging out wide in front of him as he advanced.

The creature dissipated again upon Maximus’ advance, pulling out a roar from Maximus as he swung Judgment around again and again. His movements were as fluid as water as he deftly brought the gigantic greatsword overhead and behind his back in unceasing motion. Meanwhile, the demon desperately tried to maintain control of the insects comprising its form, while clusters of flies spattered against Judgment upon impact.

The flies that plagued Vlishgnath and Thunderclese rejoined the swarm at their master’s command. For a moment the paladins each looked to each other, before Thunderclese turned to rush over and aid their comrade. Vlishgnath reached out quickly, grabbing hold of Thunderclese by the cuff of his breastplate and pulling him back. When Thunderclese met his gaze, Vlishgnath silently shook his head.

For several moments, Maximus continued his relentless assault. Every time the demon would try to reform, Maximus was there to destroy more of the insects with the flat side of his blade. Finally, the remaining number of flies dwindled severely, and Maximus paused a moment to draw in a deep, cleansing breath, holding Judgment down by his side.

The remaining insects of the swarm resumed the figure of the demon, this time lying on the ground, propping itself up on an elbow as if badly wounded, and making a desperate attempt to crawl away. Slowly but dangerously, Maximus advanced on the demon.

Pointing an accusatory finger at the giant man, when the demon spoke, its rasping hiss of a voice sounded more like a hacking cough, while the flies seemed desperate to escape its command. “This changes...nothing...child of Colopatrion...LeFay has already...performed the ritual...the Devourer shall awaken, and all that you know shall be consumed...”

Standing over the demon ominously, Maximus brought Judgment up high above his head, turning it so that the flat side faced forward, and with one final thunderous slam brought the weapon down to the ground, destroying a wide line of insects. Those that remained broke rank, fleeing the scene the way most common flies would, and did not reconvene. This done, Maximus slowly lifted Judgment off the ground, placed the flat side spattered with innards on the edge of the back of a chair, and utilized the chair to scrape the blade clean as best he could.

Thunderclese cheered from back near the door, “Huzzah!”

As Maximus rejoined the others, Vlishgnath and Thunderclese were already conversing.

“Twice, it called us children of Colopatrion...what does that mean?” asked Thunderclese. “And who is Colopatrion?”

Vlishgnath mulled Thunderclese’s words over for a moment before answering. “I haven’t the slightest. I’ve never heard of a deity named Colopatrion in any of my studies. Even the heathen barbarians and druids that pray to the trees didn’t build altars to Colopatrion, at least not that I know of. And who is this ‘devourer’?”

Thunderclese shrugged. “Whatever it is, I highly doubt its dogma includes salvation of any sort, let alone the promise of a pleasant afterlife.”

Vlishgnath shook his head in agreement.

Thunderclese then turned his attention to Maximus. “Nicely done, Sir Maximus! That’s quite a powerful swing you’ve got!”

Maximus grunted. “Disappointing. Just like all the others that have stepped up and been brought to their knees before Judgment. I hope this house has more to offer than a bunch of bugs.”

Vlishgnath placed a hand on the giant man’s shoulder. “You just may get your wish, my friend. Let’s make our way upstairs.”

Making their way back through the main hallway, they cautiously made their way up the left set of stairs. The railing of the large balcony that overlooked the main hall had been destroyed in the center, as if someone had smashed through it and fallen to the first floor. The doors of the middle room at the northern end were flung wide open, revealing a ballroom similar to the one directly below it, the chairs all lined up neatly along the back wall.

The three men stood in the doorway, surveying the room, when one of the chairs abruptly lifted up from the floor and flew towards them at blurring speeds, catching Vlishgnath off guard and leaving him just enough time to get his arm up to brace for impact. The chair shattered, staggering Vlishgnath and knocking him back a few steps. At about the time that Thunderclese turned to ask if he was alright, a second chair followed suit, crashing into Thunderclese’s right pauldron and splintering upon impact, almost knocking him over. The two men stopped for a moment, Maximus crouching down and bracing for what he assumed would be his turn, all of them watching to see which chair would be next.

It was then that all of the remaining chairs lifted off the ground.

Vlishgnath shouted out hurriedly, “Move!” at which point he and Thunderclese dove to the left outside the doors while Maximus slid over to the right just in time for a barrage of furniture to come crashing out at them, flying into the open space of the main hall and down to the first floor.

Maximus peeked inside the room to make sure the coast was clear, then made his way over to Vlishgnath and Thunderclese, who were picking themselves up off the ground. “I really hate this house,” he said.

Vlishgnath grasped Thunderclese’s hand, helping him the rest of the way to his feet. “You have to admit, it has potential to it.”

Thunderclese nodded begrudgingly, and the men headed west along the walkway.

Making their way past what looked to be a writer’s study, they found a large room that wrapped around the northwest corner with two doors, one facing south and one facing east. Carefully pushing the eastward facing door open, inside they found a wide open room filled with all manner of art supplies. Broken easels, bladders of paint, chisels and hammers—every possible artistic outlet could be found.

The works in progress were disturbing, to say the least. Half-finished paintings of gruesome acts of cannibalism, and sculptures of people falling in despair before unseen tormentors, lay about the room, the only seemingly finished work being a large, crude painting on the wall of what looked to be a giant locust.

Stepping over piles of refuse, Vlishgnath stopped to contemplate the locust painting on the wall while Thunderclese and Maximus sifted through the unfinished art.

After a moment, Thunderclese called out to Vlishgnath. “Hey, guess what?! This stuff belongs to Vincent LeFay. His name is engraved on one of these palettes.” Then, stopping and noticing the locust painted on the wall for the first time, he added, “That almost looks like a religious symbol.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Vlishgnath. “But why a locust?”

It was Maximus who spoke up next, surprising both of them. “That thing said ‘the devourer’ was coming. Locusts eat everything they can find. Wonder if it has something to do with that.”

Vlishgnath chuckled. “How did I miss that?”

Heading further south down the western side of the walkway, the doors to the room to their right were open, massive piles of books practically spilling out into the hallway. Crouching down, Vlishgnath picked one up and cracked open the cover while Thunderclese and Maximus began kicking their way through the piles of literature. Written in flowing, flawless calligraphy was an inscription.

PROPERTY OF ALEXANDER LEFAY

Staring at the writing for a moment, Vlishgnath flipped the cover closed and looked at the title. The Advanced Interplanar Field Manual, by Loremaster Durakham.

“Hmm,” he said aloud, glancing over to look through the doors. Rows upon rows of high bookshelves with all of their contents spilling out into the aisles and out the doors was apparently Alexander LeFay’s personal library.

Just then, Vlishgnath heard Thunderclese call out to him. “Hey, Vlishgnath! Come take a look at this!”

Looking up from the book, Vlishgnath let it drop to the ground with the others and stepped over the pile, making his way to the southwest corner of the second floor where Thunderclese was standing. A hallway that to his best estimation was directly above the middle hallway of the servant’s quarters below led to an otherwise dead end with three doors evenly spaced along each side. Thunderclese was in the middle room on the eastern side of the hallway, the door looking to have been kicked off its hinges, while Maximus stood guard outside.

Inside was a spacious bedroom, complete with classical oaken furniture and a massive wardrobe. Most of the furnishings had been heavily vandalized, however, the luxurious mattress adorning the bed having been slashed and ripped apart. One of the doors to the wardrobe had been torn completely off and thrown into a corner of the room, the shredded remains of the garments within thrown in a pile on the floor. A wooden desk had been overturned; its contents spilled everywhere, including scrolls of parchment with toppled over inkwells that had dried up long ago.

Thunderclese motioned for Vlishgnath to come in. Once Vlishgnath approached, the reason for being called to the room became obvious; painted in black paint were letters so large they took up most of the northern wall.

TRAITOR

The two men looked at it for a few moments, before Vlishgnath broke the silence. “Traitor. Hmm. I wonder whose room this is.”

Thunderclese shrugged. “No clue. The papers are all blank.”

“Well then, perhaps exploring the other rooms may grant us more insight.”

That said, the two of them turned to leave, but when Vlishgnath’s foot landed on the floor before him, it made an unnatural sounding creak. He came to a sudden stop, as did Thunderclese, and they both stared at the floor. Kneeling down, Vlishgnath pulled back the heavily soiled rug, feeling around on the ground until the tips of his fingers caught the edge of a floorboard. Reaching into his boot, he pulled a broad-bladed dagger from a hidden sheath and used the masterfully crafted knife to pry the offending floorboard loose.

From inside the now revealed nook in the floor, Vlishgnath carefully lifted a brown leather-bound book, wrapped loosely in linen cloth. Delicately flipping open the front cover, he revealed the answer they sought written in well-practiced handwriting on the very first page.

To my dear brother Lucien,

I present you this journal to commemorate

the publishing of your first book.

We are all so very proud of you.

Your sister,

Isabelle