Chapter 31: Cave Story
The hours after Najka was freed from her pain had been a whirlwind of activity. Uncomfortable revelations had come to light, such as what had happened in the dukedom. Vengarl had gnashed his teeth in disgust at what Tseldora had done, as well as disbelief at the involvement of Aldia, King Vendrick's brother. Had the king been in on it all as well? Had the Red Rust Knight been sent to die?
Tark had retreated back to his run down home all the while clutching the souls of his wife and father to his chest, but not before profusely thanking Erik for freeing Najka's soul. The man-scorpion swore to serve Erik in his mission, and to call on him should he need it. Erik had then been given a tiny shard of White Soapstone that had Tark's blood smeared over it. This way the chef could summon him wherever he was.
Now the Undead party was on its next step; making their way to the Brightstone Cove at long last. Rav'el was escorting them through the secret passage through the mountains while Ornifex was accompanying them as she was on a journey of her own to obtain Titanite for her profession. She had explained what she could do as giving a form to the soul, but was annoyingly vague about what that meant or how she did it.
"You're certain the Gyrm will allow us passage through into the Brightstone Cove?" Creighton asked yet again as Rav'el the Lionkin and Ornifex the crow-woman led the Undead trio through the dripping tunnel.
"As long as I am with you they will not attack," Ornifex proclaimed, a touch of exasperation in her voice. The soldier from Mirrah had continued to worry during the entire trip. His concern was partly nerves due to his soon to be confrontation with Pate the thief, but also because of his proximity to the abhumans. Unlike Erik who was fine with all manners of sentient life, Benhart who seemed fine with them as long as they didn't betray the Undead, and Vengarl who actually liked non-humans more than he appeared to appreciate humans, Creighton still clung to the old doctrine of Lindelt and the Gods; Hate the non-human.
"He's certainly a whiny little bitch," Vengarl groused, earning himself a smack from Erik. The severed head was still clipped to the chef's belt, and the muffled laughter from their new companions hadn't done much for his ego.
"Be nice Ven, or I'll put you in a sack," Erik chastised.
"Only my friends can call me that," the Undead head snarled, glaring up at the Lindelt native. Erik flinched at the venom in the legendary warrior's tone and nodded quickly.
"Are you alright, Sir Vengarl? You seem testier than usual," Benhart inquired cautiously.
"I can feel my body," the lion-helmed fighter hissed, wishing he had hands to massage his temples. "I can see what it does at times, and the closer I am to it, the more I feel the pull to be reunited. I could ignore the sensation when I was in the Shaded Woods but now that I am getting nearer to it the pull is getting annoying and harder to set aside."
"Don't worry, I promise you'll be whole again," Erik stated, patting the head companionably.
"The first thing I'm going to do when I have arms again is punch you," Vengarl swore, though there was a bit of humor in his words. Erik just laughed, and the tense mood was dispelled.
"Hold." Rav'el stopped suddenly in the mouth of the tunnel where it led into a cavern, raising a fist to stop the group. They jerked to a halt, and peered cautiously over his shoulder.
In front of them was a massive armored figure, carrying a shield and oversized great sword with a helmet reminiscent of an elephant's head. The bronze of the armor was tarnished with rust and age, and the figure stomped lazily around in circles in the center of the cavern.
"A Primal Knight!" Vengarl exclaimed, surprised to see this being before him.
"One of King Vendrick's famous armored golem soldiers," Benhart elaborated, seeing Erik and Creighton's nonplused stares.
"This was not here last time," Rav'el muttered, his words quickly translated by Vengarl.
"Then we should remove it. Perhaps that will give the Gyrm a better opinion of us?" Erik suggested to which Rav'el nodded.
"It should be destroyed regardless. It might wander towards the Pride, and we're too badly weakened to deal with it properly at the moment," the Lionkin chief noted.
"Allow me. I have not had a chance to show off my skills and prowess," Benhart all but pleaded, and Erik smiled and waved his hand towards the behemoth.
"Ha! On guard, foe! You face the Blue Moon Knight now!" With a battle cry on his lips the Jugonan native rushed towards the lumbering warrior and swung his massive blade at it. The glowing sword flashed blue and it sheared through the leg of the creature, toppling it.
Benhart parried the giant bronze sword of his opponent before driving his own large weapon into the helmet. A gush of souls was his reward and the armored being fell limp. He began to dismantle the oversized warrior, making sure that if it did revive somehow it wouldn't be in one piece.
"Seeing such an ancient soul-weapon in action was simply moving," Ornifex gushed, stroking her wings while her voice took on a disturbingly seductive tone as she observed the knight and his sword.
"Um, do you perhaps know what that weapon is?" Erik asked, and he successfully distracted the birdkin.
"It is an old weapon forged from a great white dragon. It has existed since the first generation of Gods," Ornifex simpered, and her words caused a ripple among the humans.
"Pardon, did you say 'first generation of Gods'?" Erik asked, and he felt his souls throb painfully. He had expected as such, but to actually hear it said was causing a reaction inside him.
"Oh. Oh, I wasn't supposed to say that," Ornifex's body language became tense and depressed and she looked around nervously. "Master is not going to be happy about this."
"What do you mean?" Erik pressed, and the crow-woman flinched back from his words. Even Rav'el seemed curious, though he was standing protectively in front of her none the less.
"I can't say! I can't say! I'm sorry, Monarch Candidate, but unless all the Lord Souls are gathered there are some secrets you cannot yet know!" Ornifex apologized.
"First Natalia and now this. Just one secret piles up after the other," Erik griped, walking past the crow-woman.
"Natalia? The Bride of Ash? You've met her?" Ornifex demanded, hopping in front of Erik.
"I have. Why does that matter?"
A smile tugged at the Birdkin's beak and she let out a sigh of relief.
"If you have met her than perhaps everything is still on track!" She grasped the chef's hands with her own feathery ones and leaned forward, a begging look in her beady eyes.
"Obtain all four of the Lord Souls, and I will personally introduce you to the person who has all the answers. I swear this on the name of my clan and profession!"
"Very well. I'll hold you to that promise," Erik said after a moment. "I don't like being in the dark about this, and if I have to I will find the answers if you cannot answer them."
"Of course! Now come! The Gyrm await!" Ornifex crowed, hurrying away towards a set of stairs past the spot where the Primal Knight had fallen.
Her path was blocked, however, by a massive axe flying out of nowhere and imbedding itself into the stone in front of her.
"Why have you brought these humans here, Lady Ornifex? You know they will just bring misery."
Half a dozen squat yet heavily armored figures appeared at the top of the stairs. They all wore equipment similar to Gavlan's, and Erik was reminded of the immense strength the merchant had possessed. He hoped they wouldn't have to fight through an entire village of these warriors.
"One of them is the Monarch Candidate, the rest are his companions," Ornifex explained while gesturing towards us with her wing. From the confused looks on Benhart and Creighton she and the Gyrm were speaking a different language. The chef's Ring of Whispers once more showed its worth!
"Why should I care about a single human, or the fate of their precious Fire?" The lead warrior sneered. His weapons and armor were identical to those of his companions save for an emblem on his chest. The distance was great, but it looked like a pair of fangs…
"If the First Flame goes out you know what will happen," Ornifex scolded, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "And before that happens my Master would force you to step aside so the quest could be completed."
"The humans are dangerous. They should not be allowed to have the powers they do. Their gods are monsters and their heroes little more than butchers. Turn back now, or we shall oppose you."
"I see. I thought the crest you wore was a coincidence, but it seems you have sided with the Rat King," Ornifex sneered, folding her arm-wings. Rav'el tensed at that, leaving the Undead confused.
"Vengarl, do you know of a 'Rat King' by any chance?" Erik asked, whispered down to the head at his waist.
"No, but judging from the tone of things he's bad news," The red knight murmured.
"It was he who protected us against the predations of the Basilisks! It was he who aided us in our struggle against the foul lord of the Brightstone Cove! It was he who has been at our side as the Curse ravaged us and drove us even deeper into despair! Not your 'master,' not the Lionkin, and certainly not the humans!" The Gyrm roared, hefting the axe from the ground with one hand.
Benhart whistled at the display of strength while tensing, his hands on his own sword.
"The Rat King is a liar and a thief! Who was the one that caused Shulva to fall by revealing the secrets of the dragon to those mad cultists?! Who was it that brought the plague that killed millions and gave birth to the Rotten?! Who was it that betrayed the Oaths of Nito and brought ruin to his servants?!" Ornifex screeched.
"Kill them all!" The Gyrm leader roared, and with a cry his soldiers rushed forwards.
Rav'el jumped in front of the crow-woman, protecting her from a thrown axe while the Undead organized their forces to defend against the Gyrm.
Bolts of fire and shards of ice were hurled into the armored foes and sent them staggering back. Creighton's axe hewed through the joints, his blows calm and calculated. Benhart just severed limbs with every swing of his blade, the size and sharpness enough to carve through the Gyrm's defenses with no problems.
"Betrayers! Cowards!" Ornifex cried, spears of glittering sorcery impaling Gyrm with each shot.
"Move! Push up the stairs! We have to get out to the other side!" Rav'el shouted, and the Undead began to coordinate their efforts towards breaking apart the deadlock. With a quick application of Outcry Erik cleared the path and the group hurried up the stairs and ran down the halls. Behind them the shouts of the chasing Gyrm could be heard, but thankfully their pursuer's size and hefty equipment meant they were slowed down considerable.
"What the in the name of the Flames was that?" Erik gasped, leaning against an ugly statue trying to catch his breath.
"The Gyrm have betrayed their alliance with my master and sided with a cruel and evil being," Ornifex replied, panting lightly as well.
"The Rat King, correct? Who is he?" Erik asked. Ornifex tensed, but a glance at his rings remaindered her he could understand any words spoken.
"You would know him by a different name. Galib, the god of disease."
"One of the Forsaken Deities?" Erik gulped down his fear. His companions also looked concerned.
"Yes. In the early days of this Cycle he was a fearsome force, but also a being of healing and medicine. I know not the exact reasons, but he turned to spreading sickness so he could claim the credit of its cures. But his actions grew callous, and he disobeyed and broke several old covenants. In turn, he was cast down, his form broken and his forces shattered. Now he is naught but a hideous giant rat with barely a spark of godly might to his name," Ornifex revealed.
"Then, that symbol of two fangs that rude Gyrm wore… that was Galib's mark, correct?" Benhart mused.
"Gormus was always a hotheaded fool, but to actively join forces with a dark god… I must warn my people, lest he taken revenge on us," Rav'el pleaded and Erik nodded in agreement.
"I agree. It would do us no good to have our friends hurt by those madmen. But the way is blocked, and I doubt you can use the Bonfires to travel seeing as you are not an Undead…"
"When we escape the tunnels I will fly back to the Pride," Ornifex promised the Lionkin chief. "I cannot carry you with me, but in my stead escort the Monarch Candidate to the Cove."
"It will be done, lady Ornifex," Rav'el said with a bow.
The path through the damp caves and twisting paths was a tense one, as several times the group had to duck into cover to hide from passing Gyrm patrols. They managed to evade them, thankfully, and after hours of walking the group burst out into fresh air.
Their elation was cut short as they all gagged on the stench of rotting and burning flesh.
The Brightstone Cove may once have been beautiful, but now it lay in ruins. Camps filled with Hollowed miners and peasants littered the area, and even now chain-gangs of Undead toiled away, mindlessly mining the Titanite from the area. Trees had been cut down and only stumps remained, while gaping pits full of junk ore and scrap and even corpses had been tossed. Greasy smoke from vast pyres dotted the landscape, reminding Erik of the Huntsman's Copse, and he shivered involuntarily.
However, a few dots of beauty still clung desperately. Large glittering pillars of Twinkling Titanite dotted the landscape, large holes dug around them in efforts to extract them. Rare Altered Titantite lay in heaps or in crates and wagons, never to be taken away, only added to by the ceaseless workers.
"Go down the path and follow the ledge to reach the main part of the city. What you seek should be below the Duke's manor," Ornifex said, flapping her wings. "Do not worry! As soon as I have warned the Pride I shall return! Until then, Bearer of the Curse!"
In a flurry of black feathers the crow-woman shot into the sky, elegantly darting through ugly clouds to soar over the mountain peaks.
"We should not waste any time. The Gyrm may chase after us if we linger," Rav'el cautioned, and Erik nodded.
"Lead the way."