Читать книгу The Vlishgnath Chronicles - Daniel Mitchell - Страница 17

Episode 11

The three paladins sat around the fire that Asmodeus had constructed, Vlishgnath and Thunderclese wedging their shields to stand upright in the sand as Maximus had done with Judgment. Several of the abnormal crustaceous creatures were skewered and spinning on a spit over the fire, Asmodeus having had to reassure them several times that the creatures were perfectly safe to eat.

“How exactly does a former minion of Necros come to reside in a place like this?” Vlishgnath asked, his left knee drawn up with his left arm resting on it, as he leaned back and used his right hand to prop himself up.

Asmodeus smiled faintly, continuing to turn the spit as he spoke. “A long and complicated story, that one is. Perhaps someday there will be an opportunity for me to share it with you. For now, though, I shall do my best to enlighten you on the subject of the elder gods until my friend arrives, who can help us locate the men you seek.”

Thunderclese tilted his head, his voice sounding puzzled. “You keep saying ‘elder gods’’ as the creatures in the LeFay mansion did. Mithos himself is and always has been. I fail to see how anything could have the gall to compare itself to him and claim the title ‘elder’.”

Asmodeus chuckled silently, shaking his head. “That is where I am afraid your religious texts are wrong, church knight. You see, upon the creation of the world of men, elves, dwarves, and all other walks of life, so too were born the younger gods, forged from the raw essence of the ideals and flaws instilled in each living being. There are seven elder gods, three good, three evil, and one neutral. The elder gods of good and the elder god of neutrality saw that the reign of the younger gods must be allowed to commence, but the evil gods refused to step down. And so, in the great cataclysm that split the land of the world in two, the evil elder gods were cast into exile, forever bound to this space between the planes and the void.”

“Wait, how did you come to know all of this? How can we be certain you aren’t making all of this up?” Thunderclese interjected.

Vlishgnath looked over to Thunderclese, then back to Asmodeus with a concerned expression. The half-demon was, after all, undermining their faith to an extent.

Asmodeus continued, remaining perfectly calm. “I have spoken with Talgaroth, the elder god of neutrality. He taught me the history of the elder gods. Upon banishing the evil gods, the gods of good retired to their own self-imposed exile, where they lay in slumber until the end of days. Talgaroth has been charged with ensuring that the evil gods do not break free from their confinement until such time.”

“Talgaroth, you say? Some scrawlings we encountered at the LeFay mansion spoke of a ‘devourer’.” Vlishgnath’s voice remained calm as well, while Thunderclese looked down at the sand in genuine confoundedness, and Maximus simply continued to listen to Asmodeus in complete silence.

Asmodeus nodded, and continued. “Belphegor the Devourer, yes. He, along with Temelachus the Decayer, and Jauphrimel Who is Death, comprise the evil axis of the elder gods. Talgaroth remains neutral, while Colopatrion the Creator, Melchisidek the Renewer, and Gazardiel Who Gives Life, comprise the axis of good.”

“Colopatrion! The fly demon called us children of Colopatrion in the dining hall!” Thunderclese had gotten very excited all of a sudden.

Asmodeus turned to him and grinned. “As well you are. All that you see in your world was created by Colopatrion, left in the charge of the young gods to govern over. Your deity, Mithos, is one such god, as is his opposing counterpart Necros.”

For several long minutes, none of them said anything.

Until, finally, Asmodeus spoke up again. “I realize this is a great deal to take in all at once. Admittedly, I was quite confounded when I first learned of it all from Talgaroth.”

Vlishgnath nodded slowly, his eyes a bit glazed over. “You’ve given us a great deal to think about, friend. I do have another question for you, however.” Asmodeus nodded his consent, and Vlishgnath continued. “How exactly are we to find the LeFay’s here in this place? The water stretches out as far as I can see, and if these…” he trailed off and gestured towards the creatures on the spit and those still clattering about around them, “…live in the shallow regions, I’d hate to venture a swim and find out what lurks in the deeper areas.”

Asmodeus laughed, audibly this time, and shook his head. “No, Sir Vlishgnath, we will not be swimming. I will arrange for our transportation as soon as my friend arrives.”

“Friend?” Vlishgnath grinned, looking around at the water that surrounded the small island as far as they could see.

Asmodeus simply smiled knowingly. “You will see.”

For what felt like quite a while, the three paladins sat with Asmodeus and ate, asking questions about the elder gods while Asmodeus proved to be fairly knowledgeable on the subject. Maximus mostly just ate bits of the roasted shellfish through his helmet visor, Thunderclese frowning when he realized Maximus wasn’t going to take his helmet off. Asmodeus shared some water from a water skin with them in plain wooden cups he kept in his satchel. As time went on, the quality of light never changed nor diminished, the red tide always washing up to roughly the same point.

Suddenly, though, Asmodeus sat upright, tilting his head as his ears perked up.

“What is it?” Thunderclese asked, looking around with an alarmed expression as even Vlishgnath began to sit up and reach for his helmet.

Asmodeus simply grinned. “Our ride has arrived, church knights.”

Gradually, the three of them heard it. Dozens of deep, bass voices, all male, chanting a serious sounding hymn with great enthusiasm, their voices joining together in a glorious harmony, the words of a language none of them understood, continually growing louder.

They all stood up, Asmodeus turning and taking his staff in his right hand, waving his arms as if to flag someone down. In the distance, a small speck began to take the shape of a massive wooden warship, its massive sails white with the ornate ancient runes of the Northmen stitched into them. The bow of the ship bore a carving of a dragon’s head. Several sets of oars stuck out of the port and starboard sides of the vessel, dipping into the water in rhythm with the chanting, and carried the ship forward.

Vlishgnath and Thunderclese gathered their gear and stood a few feet behind Asmodeus, who continued to wave his arms as the ship drew nearer.

“Does something seem…odd about that ship to you?” Thunderclese asked, pointing at the craft as it continued to draw nearer.

Vlishgnath nodded sternly, watching with fascination. “It’s an ancient design that hasn’t been in use for hundreds of years. To see it in such pristine condition is almost unheard of. Loremaster Garadain would likely give anything just for the chance to see what we are witnessing now.”

The large warship eventually dropped anchor a ways out from the beach, a pair of rowboats disembarking from it and making their way towards the shore. Large, square-jawed and broad-shouldered men, all bearded and clad in a combination of heavy furs and archaic chainmail, and bearing iron weapons, filled the rowboats to the brim. The largest of the men stepped forth from the first boat to make it to shore. His blonde beard in a set of long battle braids, he revealed himself to be missing a tooth when he smiled, extending his meaty hand out to shake Asmodeus’, ignoring the church knights for the moment. A tarnished silver circlet adorned his head, which Vlishgnath recognized as a sign of one of the Northmen chieftains. All of the men from the boats bore the same Northmen runes on their person in some form, be it clothing, armor, or adornments.

The large man spoke as he shook the hand of the half-demon, his voice deep, loud, and very self-assured, though his grasp of the common tongue was a tentative one. “Greetings, friend Asmodeus! It has been a long while since we have drank together and your voice has joined ours in a hymn of battle! My men, they tell me that this cannot be you, but I shout them down and tell them to bring Hjorngrimar around to pick you up!”

Asmodeus chuckled, returning the large Northman’s handshake. “Greetings, Dnieper! I thank you for sailing out of your way to pick me up. But first, I must introduce my friends. This is Sir Maximus the Bane of Necros, Sir Thunderclese the Divine Might of Mithos, and Sir Vlishgnath the Cleansing Light. They are strangers to these lands, just as you are.”

Vlishgnath, Thunderclese, and Maximus all brought their right arms up diagonally across their chest, beating upon the upper left side of their breastplate with their gauntlets in the traditional greeting of the paladins of the church. Dnieper laughed heartily, then nodded his head in response. Simultaneously, all of the other men from the boats let out a unanimous shout, their voices low and booming as they formally acknowledged the men their chieftain was greeting.

Dnieper approached Maximus, the confident grin never leaving his face as he strode up to the giant man without fear. “This one is quite the large one, yes? Hah hah! How do you move in this heavy suit of metals?!”

That said, Dnieper pounded on Maximus’s breastplate with the bottom of his right hand, laughing when Maximus didn’t move an inch or even so much as flinch. Dnieper looked up at him yet still somehow seeming to look down at him at the same time, as if their sizes were reversed.

“Very good! I like this man! He shows the fearlessness of Ygramir!” Then, striding past Thunderclese and clapping him heavily on the pauldron as he passed by, he came to stop in front of Vlishgnath. “Vilshgnat, was it?”

Vlishgnath smiled, bowing his head. “Vlishgnath.”

Dnieper furrowed his eyebrows, his grin widening as he puffed up his chest in mock indignation. “Just as I said! These are strange waters, are they not?”

Vlishgnath chuckled, nodding his agreement. “Indeed they are. Stranger still is the tale of how we came to be here.”

Dnieper’s grin faded, his expression turning somewhat serious as he spoke. “This is true. My men and I, we saw a green light on the horizon, and so we sail towards it, thinking perhaps it is the light of Yrgramir guiding us to adventure. But as we pass through the light, we find ourselves sailing in red waters, and now we cannot find our way back.” That said, Dnieper sighed, then shrugged his shoulders as the grin returned to his face. “So we continue to sail, and await the green light to show us the way back home.”

Asmodeus came to stand next to the Northmen chieftain, speaking to him while at the same time looking upon Vlishgnath. “My friends here are in search of someone. Three men, actually, and they have made their way here. Could I ask you a favor, my friend?”

Dnieper roared with laughter. “You want us to help you find these men, do you? Hah hah! We will do this for you, friend Asmodeus! Perhaps Yrgramir shall look upon our good deed and decide to show us the way home! Men! Ready the rowboats! We sail!”

As he shouted, the men let out another bestial roar, brandishing their weapons wildly in the air in approval.

Once aboard the Hjorngrimar, the three paladins couldn’t help but feel as if they’d stepped into one of Loremaster Garadain’s history lessons. The Northmen all about them went busily about their duties aboard the ship, a lively hymn starting up as the oars dipped into the water once again and carried them away from the small island. Every one of the Northmen joined in the hymn, lending his voice to the ominous chorus as the Hjorngrimar lurched forward.

Asmodeus and Dnieper stood at the stern of the ship, engaged in conversation. As they continued to sail, the paladins were surprised to discover that the island on which they had arrived was in fact not the only one, passing by a number of other dots of land amidst the red ocean. Some were quite large, while others were too small for the three of them to all stand on at the same time. Every now and then a breeze would pick up and catch the sails, the oars retracting from the water when this happened, then dutifully dipping back down when it died out.

Vlishgnath stood on the port side of the ship, staring out at the horizon. The chanting had died down for the time being, and Thunderclese and Maximus were mingling with the crew. Whatever Thunderclese was telling them, the Northmen found quite amusing, roars of laughter erupting frequently as Thunderclese seemed to genuinely enjoy himself.

Dnieper came and stood next to Vlishgnath, his large hairy arms folded across his chest. “These men you seek, they are evil men?”

Vlishgnath looked over to Dnieper, grinning slightly at how this particular point was fiercely important to the Northman, and nodded before looking back to the horizon. “The most evil men I’ve ever met.”

Dnieper pondered this for a moment, then spoke again. “Then I am glad to be helping you hunt them down. Where I come from, our customs are often misunderstood, but we are not evil men. We honor our women, and we do not mistreat our animals. There are many who cannot say such a thing.”

Vlishgnath nodded in agreement. “You are indeed an honorable man, Dnieper. I owe you a debt of gratitude for aiding us in our time of need.”

“Hah! If you can get us home, Vilshgnat, I shall consider your debt paid in full!”

Vlishgnath smiled, and just then, heard one of the men Thunderclese was speaking with exclaim, “You know of clan Olafson?! I am Olaf!”

Both men chuckled, but then another more urgent cry came from the crow’s nest. It was in the language of the Northmen, so Vlishgnath did not understand it, but the universal sound of alarm could not be mistaken.

Vlishgnath looked up to the shouting man, then back down to Dnieper, his own voice taking on a tone of concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dnieper, however, remained calm and even smiled. “He has spotted a large house on one of the islands that was not there before.”