Kharon's Book

KHARON'S BOOK

II

Daemon Labyrinth

The noble ran a hand through his sweaty hair. He crouched by the cool, stone floor of the passage, panting. He felt his forehead. It was clammy, covered in warm sweat. Something pulsated, deep within him, and it wasn't his heart.

'What's up, manling?' The slayer paused at the doorway, looking back at the human. 'Catch a fever?'

'Very funny, dwarf,' Merideon snapped. 'I shouldn't have…shouldn't have…never mind.'

'We move on then?' Skurdi raised an eyebrow.

'Yes, keep going.' Merideon handed the lantern to Kurt. 'I'll take the rear guard. I'm feeling a little…indisposed.'

'Very well, friend,' Kurt said brusquely. 'I assume it's the chaos energies. I knew it would only be a matter of time before we were affected.'

'I thought down here the winds of chaos would be lessened,' Morgan rumbled. 'But then again, these are the Chaos Wastes. Chaos is everywhere.'

Passing beneath a massive gateway, inscribed with glowing, twisting runes that hurt their eyes, the party entered a series of straight corridors. The dark-cloaked passages turned off in all directions, confusing the senses and drenched in chaos magic. The very air itself was tainted, and all present could feel the aura of terror emanating from this labyrinth.

Fool, Merideon told himself. They should've stopped and thought about what they were doing when they'd leapt into the sorcerer's book. Too late, they had been plunged into the Chaos Wastes with no way back. They had retrieved the Soulstone; taken it from Kharon Baal. Why had they not ended their quest there? Because there had been no other way out, the answer reverberated around his mind. Or had there? They could've gone back and checked every nook and crevice, every cave and tunnel…perhaps they could've found another way out. He could've seen Gabrielle again…

But he knew that he was now on the path to find Kharon's Book, the book that would see him reclaim his kingdom from the necromancer filth. If he hadn't come here, would he have ever found it? Troubled by dark thoughts and conflicting possibilities, Merideon stumbled as the party turned another corner and emerged into a large chamber. The thing inside him flared painfully, and his knees hit the ground. Suddenly there was a cry of alarm. It wasn't his voice.

'What…what are these things?' Kurt stammered, stepping backwards.

Gritting his teeth, Merideon raised his head to see two, purple-hued monsters slinking from the shadows. They had four arms each, which ended in huge, brutal claws and stood on hooves of chitin. Their chitinous, armour plates were insect-like, yet these daemons were unlike anything Merideon had ever seen. There was something distinctly alien, and completely evil about them. Their bulbous heads were dominated by slavering jaws filled with needle-like teeth and their eyes glowed with a malevolent yellow light.

'Whatever they are, they aren't about to ask us to tea,' Morgan snarled. He raised Fellblade, roared wordlessly and rushed into the attack.

'What…what are they?' Kurt pulled back but kept his eyes on the daemonic beasts. The creatures' tongues were darting in and out of their mouths, as if they were tasting the air for their prey.

'Outta the way, Waldheim,' Skurdi grunted, shoving Kurt aside. 'Let me at them!'

Turning away from the battle, Kurt felt a pang of agony course through him. Looking down, he noticed his orcish sword glowing with green energy where his hand gripped the hilt. He fell to his knees, pain flowing through his body.

Merideon screamed as sudden pain seized his left arm. Within moments a series of throbbing, violet veins rose up on his flesh, each pulsation sending new agonies rippling through him. He threw back his head and screamed again, his hat falling to the floor. Too busy with their own battles, the other men ignored him.

He collapsed, unconscious, the veins spreading towards his hand.

Blood spattered the walls as Fellblade carved through the genestealer's arm. A fountain of purple ichor sprayed Valour and Morgan lashed out again. The next blow took off the alien's head. But huge rents had been gashed in Valour. Morgan crumpled to the ground, exhausted. Blood leaked from the armour.

Skurdi was lightly wounded too. Dodging aside from a set of claws, he narrowly missed another and then a third arm grabbed a handful of his mohawk.

'Watch the hair, beast,' he roared, back slashing and cutting off the offending arm. His body was further tattooed in a gush of purple blood.

With the blood of the genestealers cooling around them, Skurdi and Morgan, breathing heavily, approached Merideon's prone body. Kurt knelt by the man.

'He's breathing, but only just,' the outlaw said. 'Look at that.' He indicated the pulsating purple veins. They were moving.

'What in hell?' Morgan gasped. His eyes followed the veins towards Merideon's hand. Slowly, the foul mutation was creeping to where the rapier was locked in a vice-like grip.

'This is bad,' Skurdi growled. 'We should not have come here.' He shook his head. 'Good for me – a glorious death and all, but not for you men. You will be lucky to get out the wastes alive.'

'There's no use pondering on what is passed,' the knight replied. 'We're stuck here, at least for the time being. I will accept whatever happens to me.'

'And here, is away from the authorities,' Kurt snapped. 'No one will find me here. I too, accept the inevitable.'

'You manlings are more foolish than you look,' the dwarf hissed. He turned away. 'Come, we've got to get the youngster someplace safe.'

The party cautiously made their way down a set of steps. They could hear the stamp of hooves and the jingle of chainmail from the corridor below. Quickly, they reached the door at the bottom and were about to go through when it burst open and a group of Bloodletters thundered towards them. They were howling for blood and gore, their dripping axes raised. The daemons' red skin glistened.

'Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the throne of Khorne!'

A brass axe swept into Magnus, throwing him against the wall. Luckily, he scrambled aside as the blade struck again with lightning swiftness, taking a chunk out of the wall. Skurdi rolled beneath another's swing, striking out with his runeaxe. One of the daemons fell, its leg severed. Daemonic ichor was spraying everywhere. In the closeness of the corridor the tightly packed daemons and men fought bloodily. There was barely enough room to swing and blood both red and black stained the flagstones. The clamour of weapons was deafening. Kurt's blade rang as he parried a bloodletter's blow, but then the axe sliced through his armour and he cried out in agony. Fellblade hacked and slashed in all directions. Ichor painted the low ceiling and the other men fought to get out of Magnus' sword arc lest they too fall to its deadly thirst. At the top of the stairs, leaning on his rapier, Merideon watched the battle with weary eyes. His ears pounded with the racket, and he struggled to keep himself from falling. The pain had dulled, but he was still in agony. The mutation was getting worse. He glanced at it, flinching as his gaze alighted on the veins slowly merging his weapon to his flesh. They were melting, steel and skin melding together like some horrid candle wax streaked through with metal shards.

Finally, blood dripping from their bodies, they defeated the last Bloodletter in a shower of reddish sparks. The air was heavy with the tang of magic. The companions were badly wounded. All of them were bleeding heavily. Kurt's left arm hung uselessly. Skurdi's leg was gashed horribly and Magnus sported several large, bleeding rents in his armour.

But there was no time for resting.

Suddenly, there was a crash from the top of the staircase, followed by a scream.

'Merideon!' Kurt shouted hoarsely.

'Get down, around the corner! Run!'

The duellist came limping down the stairs as fast he could, gesturing wildly.

'Run, you stupid oafs, do it! Run!'

For a moment the others just stood there, wondering what the noble was on about. Then a series of booming crashes echoed from up the staircase. Coming into view was a giant boulder. It started to roll down the stairs, towards them.

That galvanised them into action. Hastily scrambling down the corridor and around a nearby corner the party barely made it in time before the boulder rolled past them to smash a hole in the wall and vanish into the blackness.

The four companions fell to the ground, completely spent.

'Next time a little warning would be good,' Skurdi spat.

This earned him a venomous glance from the duellist.

The stench was terrible. It stank like a mix of rotting flesh, rotting vegetables and offal, combined with various types of dung and vomit. Kurt gagged and covered his mouth and nose while Magnus slammed down his visor. Skurdi simply wrinkled his nose in disgust. Merideon, however, looked positively sick. He was pale, and looked like a corpse.

'Merideon,' Kurt said, 'if you're going to vomit, please don't do it on me.' He moved away from the noble.

Then the Plaguebearers arrived.

Like sagging sacks of diseased flesh, riddled with crawling maggots, they pointed their jagged, rusted blades and attacked. Clouds of flies hovered about them, and small, nurgling daemons scuttled around their feet.

Bandaged and not ready for another fight, the comrades were ill prepared. Kurt desperately tried to defend himself as a plaguesword connected with his side. Immediately there was a flash of greenish light and a foul stench as some vile disease began to take over the outlaw's body.

'No!' Kurt wailed, gripping the amber amulet he wore. There was another flash, of amber light this time, and the infection was dissipated. Taking advantage, he swung his sword at arms length and decapitated the Plaguebearer, skipping back as it collapsed in a pile of slime and filth.

The corridor looked perfectly normal, and safe. It was well lit by a number of torches set in wall sockets and a large, wooden doorway stood at the end.

'Well, what are we waiting for?' Kurt shifted his arm sling and shouldered his sword. Striding confidently towards the door, he could feel the others' eyes on him as he walked. The air was warm. It was silent except the sound of his boots on the flagstones. Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and seconds later a giant blade rose from the ground. With a metallic ring, it sliced upwards where he was standing, cutting through his coat and severing his left foot. With a scream he tumbled forwards, blood spurting from the limb.

The others watched in horror as the outlaw scrambled clear and the blade slid back into the ground, slick with blood. Kurt shrieked in agony, blood pumping into a pool around him. To his credit, he struggled around and reached forwards, trying to grab the wound and tighten it to stop the blood flow. But he was in so much pain.

'I'm coming, manling!' Skurdi set his jaw, and ran. Strangely, his leg had set and he rushed along surprisingly quickly. When he got to the gap where the blade had risen, he launched himself into a flying leap, clearing the trigger stone and landing near Kurt's fallen pack.

As the slayer busied himself making a tourniquet the knight and the noble started forwards, readying themselves to make the jump. Merideon was shaking. Just before the trap, Magnus unslung one of his shields and flung it across. With a clang it hit the flagstone and immediately the blade rose up. As soon as it descended, Magnus rolled across the gap. Getting to his feet, he glanced back at Merideon.

'Come on lad, you can do it.'

'I can't do it,' Merideon replied. 'I…I'm too weak.'

'Damn it man, you can! Get your arse over here!'

'It's your book we're going after, manling,' Skurdi snarled.

Closing his eyes, Merideon considered. It was the only way. He had to cross. Breathing calmly, he relaxed and raised his foot.

Merideon's boot came down onto the flagstone. Time seemed to slow down. As the blade rose up, he quickly skipped over it and onto the other side. When he was safe, the blade slammed upwards, spattering blood into the air before retracting again. Merideon sighed in relief and tapped his purple ring.

'Oh, forgot you had that damned thing,' Morgan said, somewhat awkwardly.

'Well done, manling,' Skurdi nodded.

The next corridor was not so friendly. A set of mechanical pendulums swung back and forth, blocking the way. Sparks flew as the blades hit the opposite wall, before swinging back again with a metallic creaking accompanied by the whoosh of air as the huge devices cut through it.

'Oh no,' Kurt sighed. 'I'll never get through this.' He was being supported by Magnus.

'Wait, I may be able to help,' Merideon breathed. He crouched by Kurt's stump and closed his eyes.

The air grew dark and the braziers on the wall flickered and went out. Strange whisperings and ethereal shapes shifted all around them. There was power in the air, and all could feel it rushing right through them.

'What the,' Magnus began before Merideon hushed him. Before they realized what was happening there was a slight burst of magical energy somewhere on the ground and then everything was as it was before, as if nothing had happened. Skurdi looked around. The braziers were burning, and the light had returned.

Then his gaze fell to Kurt's severed foot.

The limb was no longer severed. Instead, the outlaw's leg resembled a bird's claw, from the knee down.

'What…' Kurt stammered.

'It's better than not being able to walk,' Merideon said coolly. He rose to his feet. He still looked corpse-like, but a little more energetic. It was if the power of chaos had given him strength.

'Well, let's get going,' Skurdi said, trying to ignore the fact that he was now travelling with mutants. Inwardly, he cursed. The humans were doomed. Raising his axe, he examined the scaffolding the pendulum blades were swinging from. 'Hmmm…. let's see how much damage this thing can take.'

With one blow, the runeaxe cleaved through the woodwork, bringing the pendulum crashing to the ground with an ear-wrenching screech.

'You seem to know what you're doing,' Morgan rumbled.

'More or less.'

On the opposite side of a fiery chasm stood a creature of pure terror. Rearing on two massive legs, its four arms equipped with a variety of ripping claws and slashing blades, the monster was like nothing they'd ever seen before. Its eyes gleamed with intelligence, and its heavy hooves sent tremors around the chamber. Suddenly its fanged maw opened wide and a scream like that of a dying pig filled the air. Skurdi realised it was a challenge, an offer to fight it in battle.

'Oh yes,' he roared, raising his axe in triumph. 'Now this, will be a fight worth dying for.'

Ignoring the slayer, Morgan drew Fellblade and rushed across the rickety bridge.

'Wait! He's mine!' Skurdi protested before charging after the knight. Merideon and Kurt fanned out to stand either side of the bridge. Flickers of chaotic energies jolted up from the gorge below and a light wind seemed to ruffle their hair.

Fellblade swept through the air, cutting a deep wound between the monster's chitinous armour plates. Blood slopped down, dribbling like food from a baby's mouth. A huge bonesword slashed down and Fellblade rose to parry. There was a burst of sparks as the daemon weapon was thrown to clatter on the floor. A giant claw grabbed the knight up roughly and promptly threw him against the wall. Magnus hit his head with a sickening crunch and slid to the ground, unconscious. The runes on Skurdi's axe burned bright as the slayer took advantage of the diversion. As the Tyranid warrior turned its hellish gaze on its other antagonist Skurdi struck. With an explosion of blood and gore, one of the beast's legs was chopped from beneath it. Screaming in anguish, the creature fell, its arms waving frantically. Boneswords and claws came scything down in Skurdi's direction. One of the claws smashed into him, and he felt ribs break beneath the impact. Ignoring the injury, he leapt up and dodged another wild swing. Getting to his feet directly next to the Tyranid's body, he cleaved upwards, aiming for a section of armour. The axe bit deep, and a torrent of blood spewed out. Rolling to one side the slayer repeated the action on the creature's other flank, damaging it greatly and staying out of the boneswords' arc. Craning its neck inwards to try and see the small figure rushing about beneath its bulk, the Tyranid roared in anger. Skurdi replied with a blow to its other leg, hewing it off with a spray of gore. With the beast disabled, he came around behind it and leapt onto its armour-plated back. Systematically, he struck and severed each limb, while the monster struggled to throw him off. Then, just as he neared the head for the final blow, he slipped.

'Grimnir give me strength,' he roared, his axe crashing through the beast's neck. It held, and a jet of blood fountained skywards, leaving Skurdi dangling from the axe handle. With one last shrug, dislodging the victorious slayer, the Tyranid screamed and died in a heap of stinking chitin. Its falling body smashed into the cavern wall. There was a deep rumble, and several boulders were dislodged from the ceiling. Skurdi grunted and took cover as they plummeted into the floor.

When the dust cleared, a hole in the wall revealed a staircase, leading upwards.

'I see you cleared the way for us, master dwarf,' came the sneer of Merideon.

'Feeling better already, manling?'

'More than you know, dwarf,' Merideon said slyly. His eyes glinted.

As the companions picked their way through the rubble and chitin plates, there came a sudden howl. It was a bestial sound, a terrible roar that penetrated their souls. The energies flickering from the gorge became brighter, and more frequent, and the wind of chaos buffeted them, threatening to suck them down into the void.

'We must reach the stairs!' Merideon shouted above the wailing. 'Get to the stairs!' Skurdi was closest, and quickly limped into the hole where it was sheltered. Kurt, walking slightly awkwardly with his bird leg, ducked beneath a piece of shell and spotted Magnus' body.

'What about Magnus?'

'Get to the stairs! Let me worry about that!'

As Kurt approached the hole, a bluish burst of energy passed right through him. He stopped abruptly, stunned for a moment, before continuing on. It was then that he noticed that his arm was healed. Shedding the sling, he flexed it. His eyes grew wider as he realised the fingers were different.

They had claws.

'Magnus! Get up, you fool!' Merideon grasped the knight's shoulder and shook him violently. 'Magnus!' More energy danced around them. Merideon could feel its taint; feel the corruption spreading. He glanced at his mutation. His rapier and left arm were one. Where the arm ended and the blade began was hard to tell. Then he looked at his right hand. His ring of invisibility was flickering, as if it were a candle about to go out. Then more pain gripped him. He threw back his head and screamed. Agony burst through his hand and he could feel the ring melding with his flesh. Strange energy lanced through his veins and his body flickered in and out of existence, changing his appearance from normal to translucent and back again.

Magnus came to and immediately felt something wrong with his face. It was his mouth. There was something different. Removing his gauntlet, he put his hand up to feel his teeth. Horror flared when he felt them. His canines had elongated.

He had grown fangs.

Looking around, he saw Kurt flourishing a set of claws. In front of him Merideon seemed to be flickering, as if he was only partially there. One of his arms was a huge, silver blade. And all around were strange bursts of light, sparks and rays of frolicking colour, daemons and spirits cavorting and playing with his mind.

'What…'

Then he realised the horrible, inevitable truth.

'We're turning into mutants.'

7