The Sorcerer's Ascension (10 page)

Her name was Maudeline Ballister though some referred to her as Maude Ballbuster, but those who knew her never said it within her hearing. Some drunken foolish louts who made the mistake of allowing her to overhear the nickname soon found themselves leaving with far fewer teeth than when they had arrived. Rumor had it that there were certain women that disliked men and preferred the company of other women, but Maude was not one of them; she simply did not like anyone.

“Cleric, aren’t you supposed to be able to do something about these damned undead?” she shouted.

“Now that,” Malek whispered to the dwarf as he threw the leader a sidelong glance, “I feel no shame to admit to being afraid of. I thought I was doing something, Maude,” he answered back.

“I meant something a little more effective! Tarth, get your skinny elven arse up here and help, for god’s sake!”

Tarthanalis Moonglow was a thin elven wizard who was currently distracted by his studies of the painted murals and sigils along the smooth stone walls. He was unusual even for an elf. He was tall and lean, dressed in flowing robes of colorful silks, and walked the world as though in a semi-dream state. His fingernails were long and painted; he lined eyes in coal and often powdered his face due to his extreme vanity. He often used his magic to color coordinate his hair with whatever outfit he was wearing. It was currently sea green.

“My dear Maudeline, you must see these frescos, they are simply marvelous,” the odd elf cooed.

“Not now, Tarth, get up here and help kill these damned skeletons!”

“Very well,” Tarth sighed dejectedly as he lifted the hem of his immaculate robes and sashayed down the corridor to join the rest of his group.

As Tarth made his appearance, Malek raised his golden medallion and called upon his god to banish the unnatural creatures. Brilliant light flared from the inscribed golden orb and the nearest skeletons crumbled into dust and piles of bone. Those few that were further away retreated as fast as their clacking bones could move them.

“Oh, did I do that?” Tarth gasped in surprise before quickly composing himself. “There you are, Maudeline, all done. I was happy to be of service once again,” the flighty wizard said, thrusting his right leg forward and giving a sweeping bow.

“What?” Malek exclaimed, “You didn’t…!”

“Best to let it go, priest,” Borik grumbled as he laid a hand on the cleric’s arm.

“Let’s move on, if there’s treasure in here it’s bound to be deeper in,” Maude instructed.

“Deeper in? What in the nine the hells is with all the undead we just smashed? What were they guarding, the door?” the dwarf demanded.

Malek answered the dwarf’s question. “These are lesser undead, pathetic creatures really. They were probably just the lowliest of the servants that were entombed with the master of the household.”

“Great, if this is just the peasants, what do find when we reach the nobility?” Borik grumbled.

“It could be any manner of undead things; wights, wraiths, ghouls, ghasts, mummies, maybe even a lich,” the cleric offered helpfully.

“A lich, I didn’t sign on to fight no liches. No liches no vampires, that’s my rule! It's too easy to lose one’s life. Whether that life gets ripped out or sucked out
it's
gonna be gone for sure and I like my life right where it is, inside me!”

“You whine more than a vineyard, now get your butt moving or we’ll leave you behind,” Maude threatened shooing the dwarf forward with the flat of her blade.

The small group moved deeper into the huge crypt, Borik leading, followed by Maude and Malek, with Tarth bringing up the rear; the latter holding his exquisite robes above the dusty floor so the hem would not be soiled, not that any dirt would dare touch them. He spent a great deal of time and gold to weave spells into the material to prevent such a disaster.

The halls seemed to go on for hundreds of yards under the ground with passages branching off filled with nooks that had corpses stuffed in them. Fortunately, these had the decency to stay dead.

“Hold up, I see something,” Borik cautioned as he stared down at the floor. “It looks like this floor plate may be trapped.”

He bent down on his knees and examined the large square tile. It was too large to go around or step over so he removed an iron spike and a pry bar from his pack. He slipped the pry bar between the tile joints and lifted it a bit then drove the spike beneath it.

“Alright, everyone stand back and be ready to duck,” he warned his party as he stood up. Once everyone else backed away, he stepped lightly onto the wedged floor tile, slowly adding downward pressure.

“Alright, I think it’s safe now.”

“Probably was no trap there to begin with,” Malek muttered.

The group continued on, looking for the tomb that held the promised riches.

“Is it me, or did the temperature just drop? I think I can see my breath,” Malek asked as a chill ran up his spine.

“See it, it’s the smell that concerns me,” Borik shot back.

“Smell? I chew mint sprigs you foul little man. My breath is as fresh as an icy mountain stream!” the cleric hissed. “I’m telling you, there is something wrong in this chamber.”

“What could possibly be wrong? We’re only trapped underground with millions of tons of rock overhead, surrounded by possibly
legions
of skeletons, zombies, wights, wraiths, ghouls, ghasts, and mummies, not to mention the trivial matter of a vampire or lich or two. What’s that compared to the awesome power of a dwarf of unparalleled bravery and ability, a vain, womanizing cleric cast out of his order, and the strongest, meanest woman in the kingdom dressed in armor that she probably stole from her grandfather’s deathbed. Oh, and let us not forget the ever so powerful elven wizard who is currently making shadow monsters on the wall using that glowing ball of light stuck to the end of his staff!” The taciturn dwarf ranted.

“I did not steal my grandfather’s armor, he bequeathed it to me!” Maude defended.

"Did he bequeath it to before or after he was entombed?” Malek asked in feigned innocence.

Maude’s face colored beneath her heavy steel helm. “He wanted me to have it! My father was no warrior and someone had to bring honor to his name! Damn it, Tarth, stop making those stupid shadow puppets!”

“Oh, those do not belong to me, dear,” he answered.

Shadows started drifting into the chamber, the sudden drop in temperature preceding their arrival.

“Alright, people, let’s look alive!” Maude ordered.

“Is that some kind of pun? Really, is that appropriate right now?” Malek asked. “I’m happy to see you suddenly get a sense of humor, but really, now is not the time, Maude.”

“Shut up, you namby-pamby cleric and make with the holy stuff!”

With a sigh, Malek raised his holy symbol and shouted at the advancing shadows. “In the name of the almighty Solarian, god of morning, bringer of light, destroyer of shadows I command you to be gone!”

One shadow turned and fled while several others continued their advance, apparently unaffected or at least unimpressed by the cleric’s command.

Borik glared at the young cleric. “Well, I can see why that whole
destroyer of shadows
title is in there last. Must be less of a job and more of a passing hobby of some sort eh?” the dwarf observed.

“Shut up!”

The shadows were suddenly upon the brave band of misfits. Maude tried to block a swing from one, but its grasping hand passed right through her sword and gauntlet, sending a freezing, numbing pain up her arm, the shock of it nearly making her lose her grip on her sword. She tightened her grip on her weapon and swung a blow that would have cleaved a living creature in half. Unfortunately these creatures were not even solid much less alive, and her sword whipped right through the shadow as if it were nothing but air.

“We have a problem here, do something Malek, Tarth,” the warrior woman ordered.

“Perhaps I could make my own shadows to combat them,” the wizard suggested twisting his hands in front of his glowing orb.

Malek chanted a prayer and spread his arms as he and his companions’ weapons suddenly glowed faintly with an eldritch light.

“Try actually using magic you beetle-brained elf!” Borik shouted at the wizard.

“Oh of course, I should have thought of that,” Tarth said falling into one of his castings.

Tarth loosed a stream of magical bolts shaped like large, multi-colored fireflies at the nearest shadow. They tore into the ethereal creature without a sound but the sudden shuddering of its form indicated that the magical attack had at least hurt it. Borik swung his axe but it passed through without causing evident damage.

“Hey, cleric, your spell isn’t working!”

“These are non-corporeal beings, there is a possibility that not all your attacks will gain a grip and do harm to it,” Malek explained as he felt his war hammer tear into one of the shadows.

“Great, stupid cleric and his half-arsed enchantments,” the dwarf muttered. “Ah hah, take that, you sot!” he shouted as his axe bit home.

Maude swung her great sword in another huge arc, cutting into the shadow, its black wispy body dispersing into nothingness.

“I think we’re getting the upper hand on them,” she called out as she joined Malek in fighting the shadow that was accosting him.

Tarth stretched out his arm and launched a great gout of flame into the shadow that was on Borik, getting a bit too close and singing the dwarf’s beard in the process.

“Stupid elf, look at what you’re aiming at next time!”

“You should thank me; you could do with a trim. Your beard looks like something built by nesting birds,” he said sucking his teeth with a loud tsk sound.

“I think you spoke too soon, Maude, here come some more!” Malek shouted in warning.

Several more shadows were moving into the large chamber followed by a shuffling sound like someone dragging a sheet of canvas across the floor.

“At least we heard these ones coming,” Borik observed.

“Shadows do not make noise, Borik. Ever heard your own shadow sneaking up on you?” Malek asked.

With Maude getting the attention of the shadow in front of him, Malek began another prayer to Solarian. A brilliant light suddenly enveloped his entire body. The shadow in front of him reeled back as the sudden radiance was gathered and released from his outstretched hand, striking it full in the chest. Maude took the momentary advantage and split the creature apart with a mighty slash. The other shadows halted their advance, hesitant to go nearer the burning light.

“We need, more light, Tarth, make more light somehow,” Maude cried.

The source of the scuffling sounds suddenly made its appearance. Several linen-wrapped mummies shuffled towards the group, seemingly unaffected by the bright light. A wave of fear broke over the party and Borik suddenly found himself retreating towards the back of the group until Maude caught him by the top of his breastplate and flung him to the floor, threatening to make him even shorter than he already was if he tried to run off. The dwarf found Maude to be the imminent threat and regained his courage enough to stand fast.

Without warning, a roar and burst of flames engulfed the entire chamber in front of them as Tarth released a massive fireball. The heat washed against the companions enough to redden any exposed skin. The mummies and shadows fared far worse. The mummy’s wrappings burst into flames, enshrouding their desiccated corpses. The remaining shadows were torn apart and utterly destroyed.

“Oh look, the mummies make a wonderful light!” the elf squealed while clapped his dainty hands and hopping up and down on his toes.

“That was brilliant, Tarth, way to go!” Maude shouted as she launched herself into the last few burning mummies.