1st of Granite, Year 572
500th Year of Archcrystal
The Immense Design of Things
Ezost the demon slithered through his Slade fortress relentlessly. His goblin empire was crumbling, and all of his forces lay smashed around his final stronghold. He felt haunted by the dwarves of Archcrystal who had laid siege to the slade tower for years now and the last of its inhabitants were nearly starving or mutinous or both. Every plan to stop them had met with defeat and he was running out of options – save one. It was forbidden that he use it, part of a deal struck long ago at the beginning, but he was desperate now. There were rumours that the dwarf Necromancer of Archcrystal knew of its existence, and if that final secret was discovered by them…
He shuddered. It was said that demons felt no fear, so the sensation travelling through his nervous system was cold and foreign to him, like being lost on an endless glacier. His clawed hand was shaking as he turned the ancient bronze key into the door of slade again and opened it. There were still demons loyal to him here, but they were apprehensive now – the sting of their last attack all those years ago still fresh in their long memories. The glowing pits reflected a mindful mortality in their eyes now. Ezost nodded at them, and they began their long slow journey across the desolate plains of hell to a place ironically close to where Archcrystal stood – a place none of them had ever dared to go.
***
The fortress of Archcrystal stood as impenetrable as ever, it’s high glass parapets on the surface shining in the sunlight, and its labyrinth architecture in hell awash in an eternal pulsing glow. But there was a hidden rot within its walls. It wasn’t new, but it had persisted slowly and relentlessly. It needed vast amounts of immigration now to support the population as most of the original inhabitants had forgone having children long ago. At first, it was seen as a boon, having craftsdwarves of all kinds prop up the capital’s economy while the original inhabitants could descend further into decadence and hedonism. And it would have worked had they offered the same living standards to them, but the glassmakers weren’t making any more bedrooms, and even the extra ones were claimed by the mushrooming aristocracy. Consequently, the thousands of newcomers were forced to find shelter in statue gardens, hallways, and even the tombs. Their dream for a better life quickly became a nightmare as they were also treated poorly by the original residents who had grown racist to their own species.
Fath pondered this as he entered Doren’s tomb, which he often did recently, to reflect and meditate. There was a family huddled in the corner trying to move something heavy, which he ignored reflexively. He sat down in Doren’s old wooden folding chair and table which were the only objects of his stored there. The old wood was decaying badly, and Fath couldn’t bring himself to attempt to fix the rotting wood. He had a certain reverence for old objects, like the artifacts, and believed them to be perfect as they were.
But this time was different. As he slumped into the chair and leaned forward onto the table, both them crumpled under the pressure sending Fath reeling to the floor amidst a cloud of splinters and sawdust. Coughing he stood up and looked incredulously at the floor and what he had done. It was a heartbreaking sight, and he felt as if a small piece of him had suddenly been lost. He sat down between the rubble of the chair and the table and put his face in his hands. A moment later he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. One member of the family he had ignored was offering him a cup full of plump helmet wine. Fath looked at the young adult dwarf strangely before accepting it and thanking her. He took a few long sips before absent mindedly sifting through the rubble with his free hand until something odd caught his eye. On the right side underneath the table he could make out some kind of carving. It had been hidden by the small drawer that now lay in pieces on the glass floor. He grasped the broken piece and blew away the dust from the inscription. It was a sentence: “… hell lies the immense design of things.” But it seemed to missing something at the beginning because there was a broken piece absent and what looked like the end of a letter scratched before the word “hell”. It was a small piece so probably only one word, and Fath sifted through all the pieces until he finally found what he was looking for. The small piece was fortunately intact and fit perfectly. He stared for a long moment at the complete message before him. The first word was: “Beneath”.
***
Phy was in the library studying when Fath strode in purposefully. She looked up from her book only passively before returning to the text. The sound of Fath rifling through book shelves brought her eyes back up to him in annoyance. He was searching feverishly for something – and making a mess. The only other scholar present was Euler who walked over and asked if they could help.
“I need every book ever written by Edzul Ironsword,” said Fath in a low growl.
Euler knew the books well so he started to assist. Eventually Phy’s interest got the better of her and she came over and asked, “What are you looking for in them, Fath?”
“A diagram. Measurements of the pits.”
“The pits?” asked Phy. The glowing pits beneath Archcrystal were a void so far as anyone knew. The cliffs were all straight down with no ledges or change in angle. Nothing ever came up out of them, and nothing that fell into them ever returned. In fact, the dwarves of Archcrystal disposed of their garbage into them because it was much more efficient than incinerating it with magma.
“There,” said Euler, “I think this might be the one you are looking for.”
Fath looked through the pages until at last he found the section he was searching for. The diagrams did indeed measure the glowing pits beneath Archcrystal – how far apart they were, slopes, and angles. But they all had the same depth: infinite. All except one. Occasionally, over the centuries, the dwarves of Archcrystal had taken scouting parties outside the walls into the slade caverns. Doren had lead most of them. Consequently, they had maps of the area surrounding the fortress. Fath’s attention lingered on a spot about 3 kilometers to the north where Edzul had made a few notes on the slopes of the pits there. They changed from acute to obtuse at varying depths, though it was clear he hadn’t had time to take proper measurements as the writing seemed scribbled and rushed. The depth simply read: “Infinite?”
“Did you find what you were looking for?” asked Euler.
“Not yet, but I think I’m about to. I think we’re going to need a scouting party to search this area north of the fortress,” said Fath as he marched towards the library doors.
Phy scoffed, “And how many dwarves do you think will sign up for that?”
Fath shrugged. “The ones I order to.”
***
Cap was sitting at his desk outside the cell he had guarded for decades when Gitzo came walking down the long hallway. Beside him was Fath whom he recognized, immediately from his confident and arrogant stride, not to mention his shimmering clothes of adamantine and gold foil. Cap stood at attention when they approached.
Gitzo nodded, “Cap. Is the machine finished?”
“Only the madman can know that for sure,” said Cap as he opened the door to the cell. “I’ve tried to make sense of it as best I could, but I don’t completely understand it truthfully – I just helped him assemble it,” he nodded at Fath who inclined his head back to him. “Plus, it’s never been tested.”
“How do you know?” asked Fath.
“Because he is still alive,” replied Cap.
Inside the cell was Flame the metalsmith prisoner, clearly trapped within his own ramblings, as he polished the machine. It was a large metal device the size of about three large horses. At the front, was a triangular metal plate that sloped back at the top and bottom. It was as wide as it was high with an even metal slit at the center, almost resembling a large spear point. Behind that were three large cylinders about a meter in diameter and maybe half a meter tall that fed into the front through the slit. At the back of the machine was an even larger cylinder that was very high and reached almost to the ceiling. It had several pipes protruding from it, as well as levers and circular cranks.
“Come! Come,” said Flame beckoning his guests forward. “I hope you all appreciate my wonder,” he laughed. “Do we finally get to test it?”
Fath looked for a moment before replying, “Can we at least put wheels on it?”
Flame brightened up instantly, “Of course! Wheels! Yes, yes wheels would get it from one place to another,” and he danced to another corner.
Fath looked to Cap, “See to it. Then bring it to the entrance.”
***
Ezost quickened his pace across the slade cavern floors, all the while glancing into the glowing pits as they passed them. He was more than halfway to his destination, but there were sightings from his demon allies that the dwarves were amassing some sort of raiding party at the entrance to Archcrystal. They couldn’t have known of his plan, he thought. Still, the coincidence was too troublesome to ignore.
“Gather some of our brethren,” Ezost hissed. “Kill as many dwarves you can, and make sure they do not come anywhere near us.”
Two of the demons glanced sideways to each other momentarily before gathering a large group to head towards the fortress.
***
The largest dwarven war party the world had ever seen now gathered at the entrance to hell. Word had spread quickly about the scouting party Fath intended to lead, and it quickly twisted its meaning through rumour into an invasion. Thousands of dwarves spilled out of the entrance. Most were immigrants of course escaping their precarious living situations in the glass tower. Most of them had grown up on stories of the dwarves invading hell and they were too far removed from the events to know any of the tragedy that accompanied those tales. Nevertheless, they were martially trained and well fed at least. They were joined by siege engineers pulling ballistas loaded with adamantine tipped missiles and finally by one strange machine pushed by a large group of dwarves.
Gearg, Imic, Sam and Splint all shoved the machine slowly forward. It was on wheels but was the heaviest thing they’d ever encountered.
“Did you have to make this thing out of lead?” Gearg barked.
“It’s just mostly lead,” Flame smiled behind them. He was tending to the long adamantine tubes protruding from the machine that were snaking their way to large steel tanks of liquid. These were pushed along behind the main machine and had valves at the front to operate them – one tank for magma, the other for water.
Gitzo turned to Cap and asked, “So is this just a Magma Furnace on wheels?”
“It uses the same principles. But that’s just the power source as far as I can tell. What happens when he turns it on is anybody’s guess,” replied Cap.
Behind them were Carfter, Sanctume, and Shimmy preparing their new fancy armor and handing out the new rations they had prepared: Minced hydra brain jerky. It had become a delicacy in the fortress, and they were welcomed wherever they went. Livos accepted the jerky and moved alongside Sultrangis who was pushing the other tank of liquid. Both of them had been forcefully volunteered for the task.
“Do you know where we are going?” asked Sultrangis.
“Not sure,” replied Livos. “Apparently they discovered something important in one of the pits that the nobles want.”
The large host of dwarven soldiers and war machines began to move ahead along the newly constructed glass road leading to the North. The glassmakers were quickly laying down each brick with the ancient technique they had perfected. It was a slow and steady pace that made the soldiers nervous, and that was with good reason. A scout reported that there was a large group of demons approaching from the north east.
“They seem well organized again,” said the scout. “Seems like they’ve taken our lessons to heart. Good thing we had so many volunteers.” The scout flashed a wicked grin and loaded his crossbow.
***
Meanwhile, Ezost had reached his destination. It was a large barren plateau of slade with a small glowing pit in the center. Surrounding it, were other pits of varying sizes that glowed just as eerily, but he moved straight for this one in the middle. He stopped a few meters from it and waited. The few demons that waited with him glanced around unknowingly. Then, to their complete surprise, creatures began to climb up out of the pit. Usually, if something ventured too close to a glowing pit it was like gravity increased 10 times and pulled whatever unfortunate thing down into eternity. So it was a shock to all but Ezost that these figures emerged from one of them.
They looked like demons but had different features and humanoid forms. The had armor and weapons of strikingly alien metals that reflected light strangely. When one of them spoke, it was with a booming voice that echoed across the plateau.
“Why do you come here, Ezost Shasargedor Bibarbanik?”
Ezost snarled, “Have you not been paying attention?!? Do you know what goes on out here? No, of course you don’t. You’re content to let us handle the dwarves.”
The glowing figure gave Ezost a quizzical look, “The dwarves? Is the endless demon army not enough for you? Are infinite numbers and infinite time not enough for you? The dwarves do not concern us. Their fortress will fall like every other despite this one’s longevity.”
“That is what I said, until they came for me – until they came for everyone. They will come for you as well,” said Ezost pointing a clawed talon at them. “Everyone else from the beginning is dead, by their hands! It is only a matter of time before they are on your doorstep as well.” Ezost clenched both of his fists towards his chest. “This was supposed to be
ours. And I will not be the design of something else. Especially not them”
The glowing figure smirked, “I think you give them too much credit. Or perhaps we gave you too much. No matter, remember, we have all the time in the world. And I am not being hyperbolic.”
The sound of distant explosions carried from the south caused a low rumble and vibration that echoed off the jagged cliffs. Even far away the sounds of battle were unmistakable, and muted screams carried on the dry wind.
“Do you hear that?” asked Ezost. “I think every drop of that time is about to run out.”
The figure simply shook their head, “I don’t care what you think. We will not help you in your fight, because it is your fight, remember?”
Ezost clenched his jaw, “I don’t want your help fighting them. I need to come with you. I need to see… Armok.”
A silence passed over the gathering and the uneasy tension turned razor sharp suddenly.
“That is not possible, demon. You cannot break our agreement.”
“Watch me,” growled Ezost.
***
To the south, some of the fiercest hand to hand fighting ever seen by dwarves was taking place. Ballista bolts fired in unison tore their way through advancing demon formations. Demons the size of large trees crashed into armoured phalanxes of dwarves sending some of them flying through the air end over end. The steel of each dwarf scraped against each other as they were pushed relentlessly by a horde of demon muscle clawing its way forward. Catapults from the rear hurled giant rocks of galena down into the fray sending forth a thunderous sound that echoed everywhere. The last of the cave dragons also charged into the battle, biting and clawing at the mass of demon flesh in front of them. Even some of the tamed Hydras were thrown into the chaos.
For once, the battle was not looking good for the dwarves of Archcrystal. Their numbers were greater, but they were exposed out here so far away from their fortress. The minecarts couldn’t fire this far and there were no walls and fortifications to provide any cover. It was a theatre that favoured the demons immensely and it was beginning to show.
Gearg, Imic, Sam and Splint moved the machine into position. With a nod to Livos and Sultrangis the valves on the magma tanks were turned and the tubes connecting them to the machine began to glow bright red. The machine belched and sputtered for a moment but then hummed to life as the magma powered gears began to turn. The three large cylinders at the front began to turn faster and faster until they had achieved their desired speed and centrifugal force. The sound of the lead balls rolling into the cylinders was music to the ears of Flame who reveled watching his machine come to life. The centrifuges threw the lead shot through the slit in the front the very instant they came into contact with one another. The sound of the battle suddenly changed from battle cries and clashing steel, to the sound of thousands of projectiles whizzing through the air, punctuated by thuds and pings when they found a home. There was almost no aiming the machine. It had one target: forward. Everything within a 60 degree cone in front of it was being torn to shreds by its merciless rate of fire. Dwarves and demons alike scrambled for cover, but the open battlefield that once favoured the demons now favoured nothing.
At last, the machine slowed to a halt and the air grew quiet. It was a heavy silence. Usually after a battle they were cries for help or cheers of victory, but not this time. The battlefield was deathly still for many uncomfortable moments before the dwarves organized themselves and began taking stock of their losses. Two thousand dwarves perished that day. The demons did not fare any better but Fath knew that this was a devastating loss to the identity of Archcrystal, and in a war of attrition the dwarves would surely lose.
As the remaining dwarves moved their dead several of the commanders were discussing the path ahead with Fath who’s temper had started to boil over. He was always furious at any kind of loss and even though it was technically a victory, this one stung.
“There might be more on the way,” said Gitzo. “What will we do if they attack again? I don’t think we have the numbers to repel another wave like that unless we turn that bloody machine on again.” He shivered.
Fath tried to think through his anger. “I have an idea,” said Fath. “It’s said that demons feel no fear. Let’s put that to the test. Gather a hundred or so of the demons. Try and find ones that are still clinging to life if you can – and I want ones that can bleed.” Fath walked over to one that was still twitching slightly. “Like this one,” he pointed. Fath took out his knife and started carving a symbol into its torso.
“Is… that supposed to scare them?” Gitzo asked.
Fath smirked and continued working, “No, this is just for my own personal satisfaction. I’m just being petty.”
***
The two winged demons watched the dwarves gather their dead from a safe distance to the north. They had been sent by Ezost to spy on their progress and hadn’t seen the battle, but they could definitely see the aftermath. They looked on to see the dwarves also lining up several of the fallen demons on the sides of the newly built glass road which was now steadily being built again.
“Let’s report back to Ezost. He will want to know the outcome quickly,” hissed Etar.
“Wait, I want to see what they are doing first,” replied Ozsit.
“Fine, but Ezost will want to know how many are left, and I don’t think he will be pleased,” said Etar as he sat down to watch as well.
“We are infinite in number, remember?”
Etar’s eye narrowed, “Are you sure, did you ever count?” The dry wind blew and kicked up the slade dust silently as Etar looked around. “If you ask me, it’s looking a little empty around here lately…”
“Quiet,” snarled Ozsit. “They are getting ready to move again.”
They watched as the dwarven force began to march forward. They had attached chains to the demons’ bodies that were pulled up by the cave dragons and Hydras as they marched. A hundred crucifixes, all evenly spaced along the new road, were lifted to stand tall as they passed by. Some of the crucified demons who were still alive writhed in agony as gravity pulled hard on their mangled flesh. The animals were also encouraged to nip at their wounds as they passed causing them to cry out in deafening shrieks that carried along the wind.
Etar and Ozsit glanced at each other apprehensively for a moment before taking off to fly towards Ezost. It was a short flight and they made good time from the tail wind at their backs before landing in front of their master. They looked around the plateau at another battle that had seemingly taken place.
“Master,” hissed Etar, “you… you killed the angels?”
“Our negotiations failed, but nevermind that,” growled Ezost. “What do you have to report?”
“Our brethren were defeated as you predicted, but they killed many and delayed them. They will most likely be here within the hour,” replied Etar.
“It will have to be enough,” said Ezost. “Take these bodies and toss them into the pits. I don’t want the dwarves to get their dirty little hands on these weapons.”
Ozsit glanced again at Etar before speaking, “There is one more thing, master. They are torturing our fallen brethren. The fallen are crucified and eaten alive. We are… cautious about facing such a foe. They also carved a symbol into each of their bodies - a number but I don’t what it means.”
Ezost frowned, “Why, what were the numbers?”
Ozsit squinted his dark eyes and shook his head, “They were all 5.”
***
Fath stepped onto the slade plateau and looked around. There were recent signs of a battle here and he noted the pools of blood that stained the ground. It was similar to any of the other desolate spots in hell, but after looking at it more closely he could see why Edzul had singled it out in his hurried notes. It was almost symmetrical and while there were glowing pits around the edges, the pit at the center looked too central to be random. He walked up to the pit in the center and looked down. It glowed like any other and seemed the same so Fath decided to test it. He threw a small stone into it and if fell normally until it was out of sight. Curiously, he got down on his stomach at the edge of the pit and grabbed a handful of dust. He blew it out of his hand and it carried across the opening. Fath smiled stood up brushing himself off.
“What is it?” asked Cap.
“The dust didn’t get sucked into the pit. It carried across it and floated normally. So this isn’t a normal pit,” replied Fath walking over to one of the wagons.
“So what does that mean?” inquired Gitzo.
“It means we’re going down,” said Fath. “I need some cranes constructed quickly, and tell the glassmakers I need them to start making some stairs down into the pit.”
Gitzo’s eyes grew a little wide, but he went on carrying out his orders. The glassmakers approached the pit cautiously and slowly placed the first clear glass block into place at the edge of the pit. They all winced as they lowered it below the plane of the opening, but nothing happened. It was true, it didn’t operate like the rest for some reason and they set about building the stairs downward.
Gearg, Imic, Sam and Splint pushed the machine towards the opening and then started to plan the construction of the cranes that would lower it down.
“I thought hell was the bottom and now we’re going beneath it?” Gearg shook his head.
“What, did you think it just stopped here? Of course there’s something beneath it. Has to be, right?” replied Imic.
“Does it have to be? Eventually things have to end don’t they?” said Sam. A low tremor shook the ground slowly and they all looked around for a moment before continuing their work.
“I don’t think that whatever is beneath hell wants us there,” said Splint smirking.
Gearg chuckled, “I don’t hell wants us here – or anywhere else for that matter. But we’ll go anyway and make ourselves at home. It’s what we dwarves do.”
Fath waited impatiently at the edge to the pit until finally the glass makers came up the newly created stairs. “You had better come and see this,” they said. He walked down with them for about a hundred meters until they came upon a large opening. It was hidden from above by a series of small overhangs and ledges almost deliberately. A dozen steps into the opening loomed a towering door – and it was made of steel. It stood slightly ajar and, upon closer inspection, it was recently smashed open on the left side by a powerful force of some kind.
Fath turned to Gitzo, “Bring everyone down here. Tell them to hurry with the cranes as well.”
A few hundred dwarves slowly descended down the glass staircase with their eyes wide open. Cap wondered quietly if the first dwarves who descended into hell had a similar experience, but as they reached the large steel door he realized this was something even more unique. Fath nodded to a few of the soldiers, “Open it.”
It took 30 dwarves with metal levers to pry open the door. It creaked loud groans as it opened, clearly unaccustomed to use. Beyond was a sight that was difficult to comprehend. It was a long hallway about 10 meters high and equally as wide made of solid steel. The steel was polished and slightly reflective like a dull mirror. The hallway extended forward as far as they could see and on the floor were several dead bodies of demons and – others that looked like demons but had strange armour and weapons made of metals the dwarves had never seen before. More fighting had obviously occurred here and there were clearly two sides to the conflict now. The dwarves crept forward slowly down the large hallway, regarding the bodies as they went. Cap walked alongside Fath down the smooth corridor.
“You know, I’ve listened to you give sermons,” said Cap.
“I’ve seen you there,” nodded Fath
“You think this is it?” asked Cap. “You think this is Armok?”
Fath took a deep breath in, “Maybe. I’ve always thought that Armok was us – or at least that’s the way it should be. We should be the creators and directors and designers. But I must admit it is kind of comforting to think there’s a creator behind all of this mess.”
Cap snorted as he stepped over a corpse, “A mess indeed. I don’t know if I’d find it comforting to know if there was a creator for all of this. I mean, look around you. It is a big mess - suffering everywhere. War, demons, the goddamn elves, disease, hell children with disease. Why would anyone make that? And if Armok did make it all, what do they do with it? Watch it? It doesn’t seem right if you ask me. So why would you believe in someone like that?”
A few moments later, the dwarven column ahead of them stopped. There was a large pile of dead bodies piled in the center of the corridor and the lead dwarves were inspecting them. Gitzo went over to one of the corpses and inspected its helmet. It was made of a yellow metal that glowed like nothing he’d ever seen. As he stepped towards it he felt the floor beneath give way until he heard a quiet click. Suddenly, metal strands burst forth from the walls, floor, and ceiling ripping through the corpses in their way. The metal strands all met at a point in the middle of the hallway and began to form a large sphere.
“Trap! Get dow...” but before the shout finished leaving Gitzo’s mouth a bolt of lightning shot out of the center of the sphere burning a large hole into his chest. The lightning jumped instantly from dwarf to dwarf searing their flesh and a few dozen at the front fell lifeless to the steel floor. Screams of agony ripped through the hallway as more lightning shot forth into the dwarven formation. The rest scrambled for cover at the sides or behind other dead bodies on the floor of the passageway. At last the lightning struck something that didn’t fall.
Morulbisek, the largest and eldest cave dragon of Archcrystal shook off strike after strike of electricity from the floating metal sphere as he stomped forward. Its scales began to hiss and smoke with every blast but still he moved forward, propelled by centuries of growth and care until it was 30 centimeters in front of the sphere of death. If an inanimate floating metal sphere could blink it did now. Morulbisek let out a thundering roar that lasted nearly a full minute spraying saliva and vociferous sound everywhere in front of him. For a moment everything paused and then he clamped down on the horrible flying trap with jaws that pierced everything. The only sound now was a crunch of ancient teeth scraping against metal and a slow muffled satisfaction of a beast rumbling through the corridor.
Fath stood up from his crouched position alongside Cap who did not get up. He looked down and saw Cap sputtering blood through wheezing coughs. There was a singed hole in his abdomen and arterial blood was leaking onto the smooth steel floor.
Cap coughed, “See?” His voice was barely a whisper now, “Why would you?”
Fath stood up slowly and turned away as Cap died. Fath shrugged, “Because it sounds like something I would do.”
***
Fath strode forward to the front of the decimated column. The remaining dwarves were attempting medical care on the dying. “Leave them,” said Fath. “We have to catch up to whomever was here before us – and judging by these bodies we aren’t far behind.” One by one the dwarves slowly abandoned the dying, closing their senses to the last breaths of the fatally wounded.
“Also,” added Fath, “We should let the cave dragons go first.”
He glanced at Morubisek who obeyed with ancient practice.
At last they came to a large room. The steel walls glimmered with a hidden light source that also reflected the sounds of a fading battle. Ezost crouched at the end of the room with a wounded figure in his claws and another figure standing with a bright sword before him. The demon lunged towards the figure with the sword while tossing away the other. Ezost absorbed a strike to his torso and clamped down with his front claws on its legs and neck. In the next instant he tore the being in half and threw the severed pieces against the walls to splatter and drip slowly down its sleek metal. Ezost breathed heavily afterwards. His wounds bled profusely onto the cold metal floor. His breathing was slow and labored now as he glanced towards Fath at the entrance to the room.
“Now of all times,” Ezost wheezed. “Why now.” It was more of a ponderous statement than a question. He bled more and coughed while he struggled for the cold dry air. But still he raised himself, confident in his strength and ferocious ability to cling to life that was tempered by infinite time.
“You dwarves had hundreds of years to find this place, but you come here at this hour. Who told you? Are there more spies than I had guessed?”
Ezost slowly regained his strength and regenerated as he spoke. Perhaps he could stall for a moment longer before he struck. Fath entered the room. It was only him and Ezost now. The demon crouched awaiting an attack, but the dwarf in front of him simply stepped to one side.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Fath replied. The confident dwarf unfolded a wooden chair and table and sat down in the large steel room patiently. “What is your name again?”
Ezost tried to breathe slowly and without pain for a moment, and he attempted to disregard Fath’s baited question. The demon could see more dwarves moving into place along the corridor while he waited for an attack. He just needed a little longer to regain his strength.
“Do you have any idea of what is in this place?” asked Ezost gesturing behind him at a huge steel cylinder. “Or are you still like a child stumbling into importance? I should give you death here and save you from what lies beyond. The immensity of it would crush you regardless.”
Fath had been writing as Ezost spoke and continued to outline the features of Ezost on his parchment. “Will it now?” Fath said without looking up. “When I find out I’ll tell you all about it. And yes I do know what it is there,” Fath looked up at Ezost, “it’s Armok.”
The demon’s eyes flashed and his posture stiffened. Confusion swirled through his mind. How. He tried to project a controlled exterior. The wound on his chest was closing quickly and he was almost ready. “Then bring your “mighty” dwarves in here and we will see who gives the lesson.”
Fath stood up, “Oh they won’t be doing anything.” Fath folded his table and chain and tucked them under his arm. The machine entered the room scraping against the sides of the doorway sending sparks and metallic shrieks into the room. Ezost stared unknowingly at it for a moment as Fath exited into the hallway. Its centrifuges were already at full speed.
“You won’t gai…” Ezost began to yell, but whatever words came next faded into oblivion as the machine spewed forth hundreds of metal shot into the room. Fath heard screams and then nothing at all.
After the machine powered down, the dwarves entered the large room and surveyed the destruction inside. The chamber was awash in bodily fluids – red, yellow, black, and bright blue even. Some appendages could be identified but almost everything else looked like ground beef on the floor. The lead pellets barely even scuffed the polished steel walls of the place and Fath walked over to the giant metal cylinder at the end of the room. There was a latch on one side. Fath pulled it and the front of the cylinder slid open to reveal another smaller circular room. The dwarves all peered inside. The room was empty except for a small lever at the end and Fath walked over to inspect it.
Sultrangis crouched closer to floor, “I think this platform is supposed to move.” He looked up, “And judging by that solid looking ceiling up there I’m betting it goes down.”
Fath nodded, “Let me try it first. Whatever is down there, even the demons were afraid of it. If I don’t come back, leave this place and seal it forever. Make sure it’s never found again.”
“Fath, are sure you want to do this?” asked Sultrangis.
Fath smirked, “Nope. But I’ll do it anyways.” He slid the door closed and pulled the lever. The ancient mechanisms creaked to life and the platform shuddered for a second before beginning to move down. He descended for what seemed like an impossibly long time before coming to a halt. Satisfied that there was no more movement from the platform, he opened the door.
All he could see was darkness beyond and he stepped out cautiously into it. He could see nothing above or below him as it was all bathed in a strange blackness. The ground seemed solid enough whatever it was made of. In front of him he could see something. It was tiny, or was it just far away? He couldn’t tell. It looked like a small white speck floating in the middle of the blackness – almost as if a wayward grain of sand found its way here to stain the otherwise perfect darkness.
He felt drawn to it and moved closer slowly. Fath reached out a hand towards it and felt the pull on him continue to increase until it surrounded his entire body. “Armok?” he whispered. And then everything that Fath ever was or ever would be purposefully moved forward into the immense design of things.
Epilogue
The two human soldiers, Olot and Artuk, moved through the dense jungle hacking away at the foliage as they went. They had been ordered to find a path for the rest of the army through the valley by the river.
“We must be close now,” said Olot turning to look behind him.
Artuk scanned the ground, “I think you’re right. Look at the ground. This must be the old road to the fortress.” The ground indeed showed signs of stonework that had been grown over and hidden by vegetation.
“Why do we even have to find Archcrystal anyways? The dwarves of that empire are all gone now,” said Olot.
“An entire dwarven civilization that conquered almost the entire world disappears overnight and you aren’t curious to find out why?” said Artuk
Olot brushed a large phantom spider off of his sleeve, “Well yes, but I’m still not sure why we need an army with us.”
“Can’t be too careful…” smiled Artuk. “It should be up ahead where the two rivers meet. I think I see a break in the trees up there.”
They came to the edge of the tree line and looked ahead into the open space. There stood the glass tower of Archcrystal projecting a long oppressive shadow against the late afternoon sun. Strangely the jungle had not even tried to reclaim the fortress or the land around it. There was a large wide circle of dirt where nothing grew surrounding it. In the dirt were several shambling figures walking back and forth mindedlessly.
“Undead?” asked Olot. “Don’t see many of them anymore. Are they dwarves?”
“Looks like goblins to me but it’s hard to tell from back here,” replied Artuk. “I’ll go in for a closer look, you go tell the others to get up here. They shouldn’t be far behind if they found the old road.”
Olot nodded and moved back into the jungle while Artuk stepped forward slowly and cautiously into the clearing. As he got closer the undead stopped moving and turned towards him in unison. One of the goblin corpses stepped through the middle of them and surprisingly began to speak.
“A human?” it hissed. “Know that this place is not for the living. Only death lurks here now.”
Artuk looked at the creature closely. It was covered in a dull blue dust. ‘Well time marches doesn’t it? And I’m afraid your time here is over. So… uh kindly shamble aside and there won’t be any trouble.”
“Arrogant human! I will enjoy eating your…”
The .50 caliber bullet struck the undead creature in the upper torso with 15,000 foot –pounds of force and 20,000 Joules of energy. In the same instant it created an expanding body cavity that pushed all of the organic material of the upper body outwards until it mystified. Whatever necromantic energies that held the rest of the body together were obliterated and the rest of the mutilated corpse flew backwards in several directions. The M2 machine gun continued firing at a pace of 1200 rounds a minute at the rest of the undead until there was nothing left moving.
“Cease fire!” shouted the commander from the tree line. Artuk got up from the ground that he had flattened against.
‘You could have given me an earlier heads up,” he said wryly. The bulldozers began pushing the trees down to allow the trucks to make their way into the clearing. In the distance a blue mist began moving into the clearing.
“Masks!” Yelled the commander.
Artuk put on his gasmask with the rest of them as the cloud passed by and drifted deeper into the jungle. He slung his rifle onto his shoulder and approached the entrance with Olot. The glass tower loomed taller above them as they got closer.
“Well, it doesn’t really look far up,” quipped Olot smiling behind his mask.
“Oh we’re not going up,” replied Artuk as they moved inside the entrance way and looked down through the clear glass floor.
The tower stood like a dagger that remained plunged into the center of the world. It hummed and pulsed with a dim glow again as it welcomed life inside it once more and until the end of time.
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Topic: Archcrystal: 500 years in a fortress [SPOILERS] Finished (Read 494610 times)