IX

Barak Tor

Siareth had gathered his companions in a seedy tavern in Glintburg. Around them at the other tables men roared and clashed their tankards, spilling ale across the rough, wooden tables. The noise and clamour was such that it would easily mask the red wolves' voices should anyone be eavesdropping.

They had collected their share of gold for the bounties on the heads of Glint's enemies, and had retrieved what they had come for, the magical blade Orcs Bane. Yet they had not left the city.

'Why do we tarry,' Magnus snarled. 'Every moment we stay here could be dangerous.'

'There is one more thing to collect from here before we go,' Siareth hissed. He turned to Kurt. 'Care to explain what you found out?'

Kurt smiled in a superior way.

'Your old one needs to force his neighbours into an alliance,' he directed his gaze at Magnus. 'Without them, he will be hard-pressed to defeat the orcs that are spewing from the eastern Border Princes.'

'And?' Merideon raised a suspicious eyebrow.

'Glint needs a particularly shiny gem to do so,' Kurt continued. 'It's called the Star of the West, and lies in nearby Barak Tor.'

'Barak Tor is also known as the "Barrow of the Witch Lord."' Siareth said, a slight smile crossing his features. 'But with the gem we can deprive the Prince of his allies, thus dooming the realm.'

'Is this wise?' Magnus furrowed his brow. 'I can't say I agree with my father on anything, but this…'

'Is your will, as it is mine!' Siareth leaned forwards and his eyes flashed with green light. Magnus let out a bark of agony and clutched his forehead with his hands. Naturally this outburst was totally ignored by the other drinkers in the tavern. 'You will obey my command.'

'Yes, my master,' Magnus uttered, pain surging through his senses.

Kurt and Merideon exchanged an uneasy look as Siareth settled back into his chair.

'I will be staying here this time,' the warlock told them. 'I have…other matters to attend to. Be sure that you do not awaken the Witch Lord. His revival could be disastrous for us all.'

'Very well, Siareth,' Kurt said curtly. 'The Star of the West?'

'If you can return it, it's yours.'

A mischievous grin was Kurt's only reply as he, Magnus and Merideon departed.

The dungeon passages stretched for miles in every direction. The floor was covered in dusty flagstones, the walls sported giant cobwebs as if they were some kind of grisly medals, and the ceiling above was so low at first that the three warriors had to stoop slightly. Eventually it levelled up to a more convenient height but the doorways remained low.

'How many hours have we spent in this profitless tomb?' Kurt was getting impatient.

'I'd say around three,' Merideon replied, glancing warily into the darkness. The corridor seemed to vanish into the inky blackness ahead.

'Quiet!' Magnus huffed, his sword glinting in the lantern light. 'I sense…'

The tunnel twisted sharply into a corner. Beyond this lay two doors. Both were ancient, mouldering affairs, the planks nearly splitting and cracks of flickering torchlight seeping through.

'Finally, the gem,' Magnus roared, kicking in the door with a burst of splinters and rotting wood. He rolled aside, expecting an attack from the whitish figure before him. 'Hand it over!'

Scrambling to his feet, he turned to face the creature raising its hands menacingly.

It was a mummy.

Such a small detail barely registered in Magnus' brain as his magical blade sliced into the musty bandages. Greyish flesh, withered and cracked with age, started flaking as he hacked and slashed with wild fury. Kurt and Merideon entered the room and skirted around, avoiding the knight's furious attacks. Soon the undead creature would be dead once more.

The mummy crumpled to the ground, yellowed bandages unravelling and fraying.

Then it raised itself on decaying limbs and came again at Magnus.

'What…' Magnus' eyes widened in astonishment. His chest was heaving with exhaustion.

Grimacing, Merideon aimed his pistol and fired.

There was a crack and a puff of black smoke as the shot went wide. Coughing and spluttering, Merideon backed off dampening out the stray sparks from the misfiring pistol. Shouting wordlessly, Kurt charged forwards, prepared to hack the mummy down.

The creature dragged itself towards Magnus, who stood petrified, the sword hanging uselessly by his side. What was this thing that could withstand his attack and yet continue on?

Then a single arrow flew through the doorway behind them and impaled the mummy's head. Instantly, the undead monster collapsed, its body crumbling to dust and ashes and the fire of its hellish eyes dimming.

The trio span to face the door. A cloaked figure stood there, his face hidden in shadow.

'Who are you?' Magnus advanced, his blade rising menacingly.

'I am Legless, of the High Elves. I am master in the ways of the scout,' the stranger said. 'And you are?'

Magnus narrowed his eyes. Why should he trust this elf? He glanced at Kurt and Merideon. They relaxed slightly. This could be to their advantage. It was well known that elves were possessed of fine archery skills, skills that they themselves lacked.

'I am Magnus, of the Red Wolves. This is Kurt Waldheim,' he gestured with his sword, 'and Lord Merideon. If your purpose here involves the gem you can forget it. It's ours.'

The elf smirked.

'Is that so?' With lightning fast reflexes the elf had notched an arrow to his bow and before Magnus could step closer the arrow had knocked the Blade of Leaping Gold clean out of the knight's hands. The blade fell to the flagstones with a clang.

'You have some superb shooting talent there, elf.' Kurt raised an eyebrow. 'Care to join us?'

There was a moment of tense silence. Legless analysed the three humans before him. They wore a mixed combination of armour and carried a variety of weapons. They looked like a ragged bunch, but they had substance. By their scars, their grim faces, and the cold look in their eyes, he could tell these were hard-bitten, fighting men. They were men he could learn to respect.

His life had been threatened many times while adventuring on his own. He was keen for that to end.

'Count me in, humans.'

The large, bare chamber had but a single table. Slumped up against the wooden article, was a foul-smelling body. By the odorous stench that filled the dank air, it could easily be identified as a zombie, some wretch who had been brought back from the dead to guard this vile place.

'He's mine,' Magnus roared, charging in. With a single blow he sent the rotting head spinning across the room, the corpse collapsing in a pile of foetid flesh and decaying body parts. As Magnus turned away, his gold blade slick with blackish filth, something shiny fell from the zombie's hand. It bounced across the stones before finally came to rest beneath the table. 'Come on. Time to claim that gemstone.'

'Indeed,' Kurt snapped, striding through the tall, elaborate doorway with golden batwings.

A short corridor filled with the bones of fallen warriors marched up to another grand doorway. The lintel was decorated with dancing spectres, waving scythes and grinning madly.

For a moment it crossed Kurt's mind that this could be the entrance they weren't looking for. After all, this was the barrow of the Witch Lord. But Magnus was storming forward, battering at the door with his shield. The wooden portal wouldn't last long before his strength. Merideon too, had come to that conclusion and was hastening to stop the knight before it was too late.

'Magnus, did it ever occur to you that…'

He was drowned out by a crack and the following burst of rotting wood as the doors collapsed under the impact of Magnus' shoulder barge.

'Magnus, no!'

Too late, the knight had crossed the threshold and entered the room.

There was a flash of power as a magical web that sparkled and crackled with iridescent energy burst into existence. Kurt and Merideon hovered on the doorstep, horrified. There was another flash as the barrier disappeared forever.

The spell was broken.

Legless backed away slowly. The humans had done the unthinkable. How…human of them.

A sinister laugh broke through the atmosphere, filling it with dread. The air turned dark, and the torches dimmed in their wall-sockets. Against the eerie light, the stone lid of a gigantic tomb was silhouetted against the far wall. It was moving.

'Fools,' a voice rang out, one that spoke with darkness and held the promise of eternal damnation. The companions could only freeze in terror as their deed took hold. 'I thank you for this though. Through your actions, you have freed me. Once more, I live!'

With an apocalyptic explosion of sparks the lid of the sarcophagus was hurled against the wall, smashing into a hundred fragments. A skeletal figure clad in threadbare robes climbed from the depths within, his limbs moving with agonising slowness. Two glowing orbs burned with hellfires within his skull, beneath a great horned helm. His hand reached out towards the warriors, spitting bolts of death.

The Witch Lord had awoken.

'Retreat! Get out of here!' Merideon shrieked, already fleeing down the corridor. Kurt wasted no time in following, his boots ringing on the flagstones. Legless was already back in the main room, but with a burst of black earth and shattered stone the floor thrust upwards.

Skeletons rose from beneath like the resurrection of some dead bodyguards buried with their master long, long ago. Vicious combat ensued as the trio was plunged into battle.

The ring of steel echoing behind him, Magnus stood transfixed in pure terror. The Witch Lord held him in his thrall, the burning eyes boring into his very soul. Arms raised, the undead master gathered energy to his fingertips. Already he could feel the life force of this human. He could nearly taste the rich, warm blood pumping through his veins, see the ever so fragile candle of mortal existence blowing in the wind. Now, it was time to snuff that candle out and regain his powers as the most powerful lord of the Undead save immortal Nagash.

In a blast of devastating power, the Witch Lord unleashed his deathly magic. Bolts of evil force slammed into Magnus' body, throwing him against the wall. The energy bathed him in its all-consuming agony, lightning jumping across his armour. More and more bolts struck him, tossing him up and down, casting him about the chamber like a broken doll.

'You should not have released me from my slumber!'

Back in the central room, Kurt slashed down another skeleton with a horizontal swing. Bones clattered to the floor as Merideon dealt a killing blow to another's skull, shattering the fragile shell and causing its ribcage to explode with a spray of splintered bones. With his arrows useless against the undead threat, Legless had pulled out his sword and had joined the others in close combat. His blade scythed through the skeletons with ease, cutting through their joints.

'Are we done,' Kurt spat as he dispatched the last skeleton and crunched its skull beneath his boots.

'Looks like it,' Merideon sighed, 'come on, we've got to find a way out of here!'

'What about the Star?' Kurt wasn't going just yet. The gem would be worth thousands.

'Stuff the Star! My life is in danger!' The noble's response was quick and harsh.

While the two humans were engaged in bitter argument, with not a thought for the life of their comrade Magnus, Legless spotted something round under the table beside the zombie corpse. It shone with an unearthly light. Immediately, he knew what it was.

Time was short. Glancing around, he saw the flashes of power lighting up the far corridor. A pity about the warrior, he thought as he dived and swept up the Star of the West. He could have been useful. But humans had their limitations. He shrugged, and began searching frantically for a way out other than the one they had come in by. As Kurt and Merideon started towards the other door he ran his hands across the wall and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of a faint click.

'Idiot humans! The way is clear! Follow me!'

'But the Star of the West,' Kurt continued his debate, glaring at the elf. 'We must…'

'I have it! Now, come on!'

A huge slab of stone was sliding across in the wall. Legless vanished into the opening.

There was a pause, then the two men dashed after the elf. Their flight was assured.

The pain was increasing. His life force was being drained from his body. Lightning bolts that laughed with the faces of the damned coursed through his body, filling him with soul-wrenching agony. He could feel his spirit being dragged away, his life flashing before him. His armour cracked and split, black energy dancing across its surface. Raw electricity crackled and leapt like miniature daemons preparing to feast on his soul. Now, he would die here. Alone, and unable to do anything about it. He felt immense frustration, anger, and rage at his helplessness. Was this how his story would end?

'I am yet weak!' The Witch Lord was bellowing. 'And yet I will destroy you! This is only the beginning! You…you are my first victim!' His laugh smashed its way through Magnus' mind, filling his every thought and forcing its way through his torture. 'And then, when your body is broken, I will raise you up and you will be my first soldier! Prepare to serve me in undeath!'

No, this is not the end of my story, he thought as more bolts of power sliced their way through his veins. This is not the end. With immense will, Magnus clutched at the sparkling crimson jewel around his neck. Come on, he thought, this was his only chace. He had to escape! At first, nothing happened. Then, with a bright flash, he was transported away.

The Witch Lord stared, aghast. Throwing up his arms, he roared his anger to the skies.

'No! You have deprived me! But not for long! I will destroy you! I will destroy you all!'

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