Death to the High Lords 12:
Fortisque's Folly
By the time Jella had finished with Lord Fortisque, he was in a sorry state. He might once have been human, but all that was left was unrecognisable. The remains were taken to Flamuli's graveyard to join the rest of his cohorts.
As soon as his body was buried beneath the enchanted soil, it seemed to tip the balance somewhere, and the sarcophagus in the centre of the misty room began to glow a bright green. Bats flew around the huge stone coffin almost in anticipation until a huge flock of bats flew out of the coffin, followed immediately by a flash of light.
A cloaked figure slowly emerged from the sarcophagus. It's head was completely bald, with large pointy ears. It turned slowly, floating on the air, and looked appreciatively at it's new surroundings. It's red eyes took in everything. It was very hungry.
"Know this, creature of the night," boomed Flamuli's voice, "I have brought you into this underworld to do my bidding. You may feast on none of my beasts unless I give you leave to do so. You are only here because I created you. Remember this, and you shall go to the lands above in due time and feast in the eternal night that will soon follow."
The Vampire bowed deeply in reverence and made it's way to the lair. The Goblins, weary after the battle in the corridors, cowered beneath their blankets as the Vampire extended his hand and created a richly upholstered coffin for itself. It smiled, it's fangs white and gleaming in the torchlight, and climbed into it, awaiting it's master's instructions.
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Asmodeus supervised the arrival of three more Vampires into the domain, then commenced their training. They proved to be skilled fighters and grew stronger with each passing day. Soon, it would be time to move on, which meant going to Bel-Parel, the centre for communication in the land above. The destruction of the Guild of Messengers would go a long way to achieving Flamuli and Calisto's ambitions.
He approached the heart and sank once more beneath the membrane to the Keepers below. Brachus was already there, consulting with Calisto in hushed whispers. Flamuli looked distinctly displeased about this, but said nothing as Asmodeus approached.
"Yes, Asmodeus," he said, "What is it?"
Asmodeus smiled his wicked smile and said, "Fortisque has revealed much of Brandicor's plans to usurp your position, Master. It seems that the Avatar is relying on his association with the Guild of Messengers based in Bel-Parel to the north of here. They carry all his news and his instructions for the re-building of Skybird Trill."
Flamuli's grin widened when Skybird Trill was mentioned. "Hmm. It seems that Fortisque has helped us very much. Did you see that he was suitably rewarded?"
"Of course, Master. He joined his fellows, as he would wish to."
"Excellent. Prepare for the incursion into Bel-Parel territory. Have the Imps get as close to the Messengers' headquarters as possible."
"Yes, Master." Asmodeus bowed and approached Brachus, who had been watching the exchange. "It seems that…"
"Yes, I know," whispered Brachus, "I heard. Calisto does not see it that way."
"What do you mean? Flamuli has never made a mistake before."
"I'm not saying that he has. But Calisto believes that this whole thing is a ploy to destroy you. And her, ultimately. If you go into Bel-Pelar, you'll be walking into a trap."
Asmodeus tried to keep his voice low and under control. "How could she possibly know that? Does she have her ear pressed against Brandicor's bedroom door when he talks in his sleep?!"
"I'm not sure. Call it female intuition. She managed to survive to go into exile thanks to that intuition."
"Nonsense!" Asmodeus could no longer keep his voice down.
"Asmodeus, please," said Calisto, "You must listen to me!"
"You are not my Mistress, Calisto, and never will be!"
Asmodeus strode away and hovered up and out of the membrane. As he was emerging, he became stuck halfway out. He tried heaving his midriff up, but it wouldn't budge.
"Asmodeus!" Flamuli's voice was cold with anger, "You do nothing to honour the pledge of allegiance between myself and Calisto."
"A Keeper should know nothing of honour, Master! He must embrace the axiom of betrayal, cunning, destruction!"
"Enough! There will be no more outbursts as long as Calisto is under my protection! Do you understand?"
"But, Master…"
"Do you question my authority here? You know as well as I, Asmodeus, that this membrane can do far more than crush the manna out of Imps. It could quite easily crush the life out of you."
Asmodeus knew that reason would not prevail in this instance. But he also knew that no female Keeper would tell Flamuli where to go and what to do. "Very well, Master."
"Good. Now get on and prepare the Imps and your guard for the journey!"
The membrane, to add injury to insult, literally spat Asmodeus out, sending him tumbling onto the steps between the archways. A passing Bile Demon laughed, flatulence expelling with each guffaw. The Mentor scowled at him, but resisted the temptation to reduce the Bile Demon into it's component gases.
He got to his feet and gathered together the retinue for the coming journey. Soon, they were at a northern face of outer wall, preparing to dig out. As he gave the command to commence digging, he could not help but wonder why Calisto was so convinced that they were walking into a trap. As they moved through the earth rapidly towards Bel-Parel, there was no sign of hidden pockets of heroes, no armies waiting to crush them. There was simply dirt and more dirt.
Soon, they hit an outer wall, and the Imps began hammering against it for all their worth. Slowly, the stones began to crumble away, until they had made a satisfactory hole.
Through the hole was a passageway, unlit and deserted. Already, Asmodeus did not like it. They ventured inside, looking around for any doors or torches on the walls. There was no sign. Asmodeus motioned for the Goblins to lead, and his newly created Vampires to guard the rear while he walked in between.
The passageway seemed to go on forever, until at last they came to a large steel door that was covered in battering ram marks and sword strikes. It did not take much to knock the door down; it was practically off it's hinges when they started and fell into the large room beyond.
The room was like a charnel house, littered with bodies, all recently killed. Strangely, most of them died by the sword, not by fang or tooth or claw. All of them appeared to be messengers, each corpse's uniform wearing the red armband of the Guild.
"There's something not right here," said Asmodeus. The Goblins were equally nervous, shifting about on their feet, startling at the slightest noise.
Suddenly, a low moan began to sweep through the chamber. Asmodeus looked around for the source of the noise, which seemed to be getting louder and more intense. The source soon presented itself; the bodies began to rise.
The messengers were all lurching to their feet, some of them despite gaping wounds in their bodies and heads, all with a lifeless, glazed look in their eyes. The Goblins looked ready to bolt, but the Vampires dashed yelling towards the vast army of Zombies that was shuffling towards them.
There were only four Vampires, but they moved through the numbers with amazing speed and agility, using their powerful claw like hands to rip through dead flesh and sinew. But those that fell rose again quickly, and still moved inexorably towards the Goblins and their leader.
Asmodeus quickly called a retreat, and the Goblins did not hesitate in responding. They dashed out of the doorway and through the long passageway, only to find that a massive boulder, which filled the entire corridor, was rolling towards them at a ponderous yet deadly speed. Asmodeus smiled wryly. Fortisque was loyal to the end. He knew of this cursed place and had sent them into a trap. And Calisto had told them as much.
"Back to the chamber! Quickly! Better to die fighting than to be crushed by our own device!"
The Goblins ran back, attacking anything that moved slowly and moaned. Zombies fell, but rose again almost as quickly. They were outnumbered at least six to one.
Suddenly, the attacks stopped. The Zombies stopped moving forwards and started to shuffle away to the walls of the chamber. Asmodeus frowned in puzzlement. He looked beyond the crowd and saw a figure dressed in robes emerge from a doorway at the back of the chamber. The figure was stooped slightly and lent on it's staff to support itself as it walked towards Asmodeus. The figure a few feet away from him and lifted back the hood that held it's face in shadow. Asmodeus' jaw dropped. He could not believe what he was seeing.
It was Grell.
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