The Adventures of Brandar Odaron
Book 1: The Hidden Continent
Chapter 33 Brandar Finds The Statues
Brandar took food and water from a store-room and sat down to eat in a long abandoned torture chamber. And he wondered why there were not as many Durwolc in any of the passages as he would have expected -- for the entire place should be simply crawling with them, as he had heard when he was first dragged blindfolded down to the dungeons, and as he beheld the many times he had been taken to be tortured. Yet, now he could tramp around for hours without encountering a single enemy.
“Gone to the war,” said one of the captured Trollo. “They have gone to the Master’s war,” said the Trollo when asked how many of his fellows were nearby. But this meant little to Brandar, who guessed that Modeus had launched another of his many assaults against the Sereghran. “If only I could get out of this place,” said Brandar to himself, laying down to take a nap after finishing his meal. “Then should I lead them to victory. … Aye, those wars … . Wars … .” And after he had fallen asleep, he dreamt of his father, and far away Andaria, and of his childhood, and his comfortable bed in the House of Odar. Then his mother came to shake him awake, but instead of speaking she issued a great booming noise.
Boom! …
With that, Brandar awoke. But he knew where he was, and lay still for a while and then stretched, intending to get up. Then came another booming noise.
Boom! …
Brandar sat up, pondering the noise. Then it happened again a bit later, and again, and again, repeatedly, in slow though regular intervals, as if a storm were hovering above the Castle and the sound of its thunder was making its way all the way into the dungeons, but evenly spaced.
Boom! …
And after so many repetitions, Brandar knew that there was no storm, though he could not ken what may be causing such noises. So, he stood, grasping firmly the haft of the axe, and listened more intently, waiting patiently after each one.
Boom! … Waited. Boom! … Waited. Boom! …
Then he heard the sound of a dozen Gobba on the move in the passageway, coming towards the chamber. Thus, he hid himself, as the light of many torches grew brighter in the passageway. It then became clear that they were coming his way, and he feared that his escape had been noticed, and that the Gobba were now coming to capture him.
Boom! ...
Yet, the Gobba passed the chamber without so much as a single look inside, then disappeared up the passageway.
“What is this?” thought Brandar. “Something is afoot. But is it me? Why did they not search the chamber? Surely I am missed by now.” Yet, what Brandar could not have known was that the Demon Lord had more pressing things on his mind than escaped prisoners, nor was Modeus even aware that Brandar had escaped, as no other jailers had gone into that part of the dungeons since Brandar had slain his Trollo keepers. Most of the enemy in the Castle had been ordered to go out and do battle with the Sereghran who had come to the gate, even here in the heart of the Master’s Darkness. That is why Brandar was so alone in the dungeons, else he most certainly would have been caught and slain fairly soon after leaving his cell.
Boom! …
Then yet another company of Gobba marched up the passage. And Brandar thought he heard one of them say something about “Sereghran in the yard.” Then a large company of Trollo passed by, chanting and slavering, with their long forked tongues hanging out and swinging back and forth. Yet, neither had these looked into the chamber in which Brandar was hiding.
Boom! …
“Sereghran in the yard?” thought Brandar. “In the yard outside?” And it occurred to him that perhaps the High King had launched his own assault upon Modeus, and was even now laying siege to the Castle. Then Brandar’s heart leapt at the prospect. But he waited excitedly in the chamber, making sure no more enemies were coming along ere going out to embark upon a new plan of action he had devised after questioning the last captured Gobba. And besides having the Trollo axe, Brandar had taken the curved sword of the Gobba, and its belt, and had been wearing them ever since.
The small sword he had been using as a carving knife, and as an extra weapon. So, now he checked all his weapons, including the little knife hidden in the leg of his trousers, and then slipped ever so quietly into the passageway, keeping a wary ear open for any approaching enemies.
Boom! …
It happens that the mistaken Gobba told “thief” Brandar both a way out and the way to a certain treasure vault, wherein, the evil Gobba claimed, many valuable things were stored, and also many weapons. And Brandar deemed that if he could enter the vault to obtain armor and a decent sword, his chances of making it to the outside would be greatly improved. But to his happy surprise, all the passages had become so deserted that he encountered no other monsters on the way, and came soon to that very place.
Boom! …
Creeping up in the dark along the passage leading to the vault, he found that the passage came to a bend ere entering a small chamber illuminated by torchlight, wherein he had been told the door to the vault was in the back wall of the chamber, though he could not see it from where he stood, for he had stopped and was listening carefully, as it was apparent that the chamber was guarded. And Brandar eavesdropped upon what he believed must be two Trollo, by the sound of their voices.
Boom! …
“Blimey, but that noise is drivin’ me batty!” said one of the Trollo, at which the other replied: “Shut yer yap, Garn. Else, would yer rather go an’ have a chat wi’ the Saragorn?” To which the first said: “Shut yer yap, maggot! I was jus’ sayin’ I hates the noise, is all.” And so it went, this way and that between the dim-witted Trollo. Yet, due to their banter and the booming, they did not hear Brandar slink his way to the bend in the passageway.
Boom! …
Then Brandar prepared his axe for a fight; having devised yet another new plan. “You in there!” called Brandar, in as gruff a voice as he could manage. “Come and help me with this meat! A tasty Saragorn, fresh from his cell.” Then one of the Trollo came to the chamber entry, saying: “Who’s that? What meat? What do yer want? Is that you, Obla? Why would yer share yer meat?” “It’s me,” said Brandar, now intentionally trying to sound as much like Obla as he could, for he knew the name Obla was that of the late Trollo who had long been pissing in his water-bowl. “At least let one of you come out and help me with the prisoner.” Then he added: “Blondie needs cooking! And it’s all good meat, I’ll wager. Lean and sweet!”
Boom! …
Fortunately, these two brutes were not the brightest of Trollo, even among Trollo, which is probably why they were left behind instead of being sent to the fight. And they began arguing about who was going to help with the cooking. But one must have been larger than the other, or of higher rank, as it threatened the other, making it stay behind as it took hold of a spear and came tramping down the passage, saying: “Ho, Obla. Decided to eat the fair one after all, eh? I wants his liver.” But instead of Man-liver the monster got the Gobba sword in his throat as soon as rounding the bend, at which he simply dropped his spear and stumbled back in surprise, clutching at the sword. Then Brandar grabbed him by his tunic and pulled him further round, where the creature fell sidewise upon the floor pulling at the sword. And with that, Brandar swiftly slew him with but one mighty axe-hack to the side of his head.
Boom! …
Brandar then yanked out the axe, dragged the dead Trollo a bit further down the passage, pulled out the sword, and after wiping it on the Trollo’s tunic put it back into his belt. Then he took up the Trollo’s spear, returned to the bend in the passage and again called out: “You in there! Come on out here! There’s plenty for everyone. But don’t wait long, or we’ll eat it all! Ha, ha!”
Boom! …
“No,” said the last Trollo. “Yer bring 'im here. There’s room fer a fire in here.” “Suit yourself,” said Brandar. “But that just leaves more for us!” And this got the Trollo downright infuriated, for he dearly loved roasted Man-meat, most especially the legs. So, he lit an extra torch and with it came out from the chamber, saying: “No yer don’t!” Thus, he came tromping down the passageway cursing and grumbling, leaving behind his own spear but drawing a knife with which he meant to cut for himself a whole leg from Blondie’s carcass. But he suddenly found his partner’s thick spear driven deep into his stomach just as he came to the bend. And here was Blondie himself holding the spear, who then shoved it in deeper and twisted it, all the while sporting the most wicked of grins.
Boom! …
The Trollo went wide-eyed, dropped his torch, and fell back against the wall as the dour Northron pushed him, then let go of the spear to take up the axe with which to finish the monster off. And so swift was Brandar that the Trollo had time only to raise his knife in a feeble attempt to parry the Northron’s strike. But the axe broke the knife and was buried in the Trollo’s chest, where it stuck so tightly that Brandar could not then pull it free. Neither was the Trollo killed, for Brandar had not struck any vitals, and the creature was tougher than Brandar had expected. Then the Trollo fell sidewise, broke off the spear, and crawled towards the chamber with the axe yet in its chest. But Brandar calmly drew the Gobba sword, stepped over to the beast and thrust the sword straight into the Trollo’s brain from behind just as the thing was reaching for its own spear inside the chamber by the arched doorway. Then Brandar rolled the stinking Trollo over, and with no small effort removed the axe from its chest.
Boom! …
With the blood-soaked axe in hand, Brandar went to scout about the passages thereabouts. Yet, finding no more enemies, he next returned to the chamber and studied the door to the vault.
Here was an iron door twelve feet tall, with an arched top and a large emblem, like a great cold coin, exactly in its center, and with large hinges to the right but a locking latch to the left. Yet, the latch was rather simple, more so than what Brandar would have expected of any door to a vault. Then did he have doubts about the dead Gobba’s words, though it was worth a look at any rate. So, he reached out and took hold of the latch, just to see if it was locked. Then did he understand the reason for its simplicity.
Boom! …
The instant he touched the latch a searing pain ran all the way up his arm. And he fell to the floor believing that his hand had been burnt to a crisp. But the pain abruptly went away, and there was nothing wrong with his hand. Yet, he was not about to try the latch bare-handed once again; guessing that the “coin” on the door was a ward of affliction. So, he used the Trollo’s spear in hopes of prying off the emblem. But both of his hands felt the terrible burning, as if he were grasping a white-hot rod as soon as the tip of the spear touched the emblem. Yet again the pain soon went away. Thus was Brandar astounded at the magic of the ward, but could not then figure out a way to remove it, or otherwise a means of opening the door.
Boom! …
Suddenly made desperate and enraged by the frustration of it all, Brandar took up the axe and began hacking at the latch, and in so doing received a pulse of intense pain with each and every strike. But he kept it up, nonetheless, although the agony was so great at times that it sent him to his knees. Yet, he was utterly determined to defeat the ward, and was not about to give up.
Boom! …
Finally, after more than a hundred blows upon the latch, and near the point at which Brandar would have collapsed from absolute exhaustion, the latch broke, so that the door opened just a crack. Yet, Brandar must rest or pass out from his labors. If he must defend himself against an enemy who may unexpectedly enter the chamber, the axe-blade had long since become too dull to be of any good for slashing. So, he let it fall and sat with his back to the wall, praying that he would not be disturbed.
Boom! …
Of course, Brandar realized that he could not long remain idle. And, as soon as he felt that he was able, he rose up and used the spear to open the door, receiving one last affliction. But the door had thus been opened wide enough that he could easily step into the vault without touching it. Then he took a nearby torch from the wall of the outer chamber and held it before him as he warily entered the vault, not yet knowing that he had in truth found the most important treasure-vault within the Castle.
Boom! …
Here was a very large room with a very high ceiling. And Brandar could make out a great archway with bars across it, a portcullis it seemed, at the limit of the torchlight in a wall a fairly far distance away, though he could not see through the bars from where he stood near the door, except that some strange silvery glows were coming from within the room beyond the portcullis. But he did he much care about that, for he had spied what he sought.
To his left along the wall, and the whole length of it from the door, was a vast array of all manner of weapons and of armor, and every other kind of implement and tool of war which might fit through the door. But to his right were piles of garments and blankets, and rugs of fine make, and collections of what must be household goods made of silver and gold, such as goblets and bowls, platters, plates, and the like. And everywhere also were strewn or stacked furnishings; tables, chairs, sofas, and such, and other luxuries. But Brandar ignored all of that, and went over to find a sword and some armor.
He decided also to take a spear and get a new belt, and find a decent axe and stiff dagger, or two, and whatever else he might need to fight his way out. "A crossbow would be useful," he thought out loud as he spied one, "and a good longbow, along with many arrows in a large quiver …, no, a short-bow, due to the confining passageways. And … ."
Boom! …
Indeed, there were many racks of swords and spears of the finest make. And huge chests filled to overflowing with knives and with axes, and maces and hammers, and flails and staves, and many other hand-held weapons. But there were also stacks of various pole-arms, and pile upon pile of armor and barding, and many kinds of other things for the fighting man. Thus did Brandar spend time searching that hoard to find what he wanted, or what he thought he wanted, until coming to the portcullis at the far end of the vault. And in the shadows of a great room behind the portcullis, nigh upon what must be a mound of silver and gold coins, and countless jewels, he beheld what appeared to be a Man, or the statue of a Man, carved as if fully armored, holding a glowing sword as if about to strike the bars. But thrusting his torch through the bars Brandar found that there were three such statues, in similar poses, dressed and armored like to Sereghran Warriors. And each of them were brandishing the lordliest of glowing swords.
Boom! …
Realization smote upon Brandar as if lightning had struck him in the chest, for here were his very dear friends; Alak and Erek, and Rosth. The very Northrons who had gazed into the eyes of the Gorgon upon the day Brandar had been taken by the evil Dragon Drakonus, on the battlefield outside of the Marsken of Vortunas. And so smitten with grief was Brandar at seeing his countrymen so stiff and cold that he fell to the floor and wept once again, and remained there sobbing for a long while.
Boom! …
When finally he looked up once again, he happened to gaze off to his left through the portcullis and there, hanging on the wall, was his very own sword, Beliscaertos, among many other great and wonderful weapons. And the sight of that sword gave to him a renewed sense of purpose, putting new life into his limbs. So, he placed the torch in a holder on the wall nearby and knew what next must be done; for he kenned now both a way of escape and a means of heaping vengeance upon his nemesis, Modeus the Cruel.
Boom! …
Determined to find a way past the barrier, Brandar cautiously touched the bars with a long pike which he found among the equipment thereabouts. But, discovering that no pain was to be inflicted upon him, he sought a means of lifting it up, seeing that it was made to go into a slit in the ceiling. Yet, he found that no weapon nor tool would pry up the portcullis. Neither did he find a disguised or hidden device, such as a stone to be pushed or a torch-holder to be pulled, or any other button or lever which may activate hidden mechanisms that might lift the portcullis. Thus, he took spears and staves and other implements with which to attack its bars. But nothing he tried would bend them apart, nor affect in any way the dull black iron of which they were made.
Boom! …
Then he thought perhaps that he could hook the sword on the end of a pike and pull it off the wall and through the bars. But he found that his strength was not yet sufficient, despite his recent meals, for he was not then restored to his former vigor. And try as he may, his efforts simply wore him to a frazzle.
Boom! …
Wholly weary and despondent, he sat facing the portcullis and stared dejectedly upon the pile of riches beyond his reach. And there, thrown as a trinket upon that wealth, to Brandar’s sudden delight he beheld his very own necklace, with its Pearl of Giant-Strength, and thus he forget his weariness.
Quickly he took up the pike and with it retrieved the necklace. But so intent was he on doing this that he failed to notice three Gress, who must have discovered the dead Trollo, and also the opened vault door, and were now sneaking up behind him. Yet, after Brandar had put on the necklace, in that moment speaking the command that activated its power, he became aware that all things had changed, as if the Gods had suddenly willed it so.
*****
Boom! …
The Last Three Northrons cleared the bridge of monsters but could not open the gate nor break it down despite the powers of their swords and the magic of their necklaces, for an incredibly powerful enchantment was protecting it. Thus, they called for Flaven and Calaren to cast spells upon it while Tomas guarded them and the other Northrons held either side of the bridge, where from the flaming mote Nsurudin Demons and others of the Minions of Modeus were emerging to assail the Sereghran thereabouts. Unfortunately, what remained of the King’s forces were steadily being whittled away, surrounded upon three sides by hordes of ravenous foes, besides being attacked by the fell Minions. So, the Sereghran there must soon enter the Castle or perish one and all.
Boom! …
It happens that Medhyos had fallen under an overwhelming attack of Giants, as that Noble defended the rear of the charge towards the Castle. And Lindheron was slain by a mighty Nsurus when he had turned his back upon the mote, after leading his Mariners across the Castle grounds alongside the Men of Agereis. But Ardour cut off the head of that Minion, though he lost his arm in so doing, and bled profusely while then wielding his sword in his other hand, though he was then slain by other Minions.
Boom! ...
The Sereghran here now numbered less than one Division, where these had survived due to each Warrior holding some sufficiently potent magic. But even so, while the enemy may pay fifty-to-one for every Sereghran they slew before the bridge, it was still no fair exchange in the eyes of the King.
Strabos, by the powerful magicks of his own mighty sword, had remained unharmed as he sat mounted in the midst of his men, with his horse also yet unhurt, for the steed had magic barding, and the sword could shoot terrible lightning-bolts with which he fought against the many flying creatures swooping down from above out of the Darkness. But there too were the Northron Kith, and the Herald Farus, although only a precious few of the King’s Royal Guardsmen remained. Then Strabos took to praying aloud, even as he fought, that the Gods may see to the opening of the gate.
Boom! …
After a number of attempts at both negation and opening spells, Flaven and Calaren had not yet opened the gate's doors. Then suddenly, a shadowy hooded figure appeared upon the parapet above. And stretching out a clawed hand he sent forth a bright yellow light towards the two Wizards, and which impacted upon the bridge in front of them, causing a tremendous explosion that swiftly broke apart the entire portion of the bridge upon which they stood; sending much rubble tumbling into the mote along with Calaren, who had not the time to voice a spell of flying, and was lost to the lava below. But Flaven had turned and leapt to grasp the ledge behind him, and then began to pull himself up.
The hooded one laughed a throaty laugh while stretching out his hand to strike once more. But Tomas was there and smote upon the figure with a great lightning-bolt from his sword, Bheleuwal, after which the dark figure was seen no more. Then Tomas took Flaven by the wrist and hauled him up with a mighty heave. And the two next stood there gazing warily across the chasm towards the Castle’s high parapets, above the now unreachable doors.
Boom! …