With lightning from an Electro Deus spell crackling between his fingertips, Arkk rushed out of the temple.
Dakka, Orjja, and Eiff’an stood in front of the temple’s entrance with their heavy shields raised. The rest of the team fanned out behind them, readying crossbows and battle axes. The horses, off to the side of the entrance, were pulling and tugging against the ropes used to hitch them to an old post. Their agitation didn’t extend to the skeletal horse. It stood, still hooked up to the cart, without moving.
Arkk fully expected a Protector on the other side of the orcs’ shields. They had warned him against exploring the Underworld. While they had left the portal when the Walking Fortress arrived and hadn’t been seen since, he doubted they would be all that excited to hear of him looting an old temple dedicated to their god.
Yet the tall, carapace-covered forms of the Protectors were nowhere to be seen.
A darkness unfurled across the desolate landscape. An inky shadow, elongated under the skewed light that seeped through the orange clouds in the sky, was little more than a murky silhouette. It possessed an eerie semblance of a humanoid figure rather than the multi-armed shadow of the Protectors. Its stockiness gave it the familiarity of an orc rather than a human or an elf.
Nothing cast the shadow.
The absence of any discernable body to account for the shadow that stepped closer to the temple sent a jolt of unease up Arkk’s spine. He shouldn’t feel surprised at shadows acting oddly in the Underworld. Yet there was just something disconcerting about watching a shadow step and move without anyone there to block the light.
That unease only grew as Arkk realized that there were more of the shadows. A dozen. Two? They blended together at points, like groups of people walking alongside each other. Just without the people. Some walked in pairs, some walked alone. They all headed directly for the temple.
Watching the shadows, Arkk made a snap decision. “Out of the way,” he said, motioning with his hands off to one side. “Back!”
The shadows didn’t noticeably react as Dakka and the others, with their shields aimed toward the shadows, backed away toward the horses and cart. They carried on, continuing their walk toward the temple. Based on the way the heads bobbed and turned, the shoulders shifted, and the arms gesticulated, Arkk could imagine conversations going on between the shadows.
It reminded him of the Suun sermons at Langleey Village. Everyone would head up the hill to the church, chatting amicably as they prepared for Abbess Keena’s lecture.
Priscilla, emerging from the temple just after Savren, stood around with a blank look on her face. Arkk was about to yell at her only for Leda to grab her by the hand and, hovering above the ground, tug her away. Leda didn’t manage to move the dragonoid even a single step despite her best efforts but, after a moment of staring at nothing with her blind eyes, Priscilla allowed herself to be pulled over to Arkk.
The shadows continued past Company Al-Mir, taking no note of them. As they passed into the shadow of the temple, they formed more three-dimensional bodies, standing upright instead of flat against the ground, though they stood no less shadowy. Most of the dark figures headed inside while a handful stayed out. Those that remained mostly chatted with one another. One group stood outside only until a fifth shadow approached their group, at which point they all entered. The others slowly trickled in until all the shadows had vanished inside.
Company Al-Mir stood silent, watching from the side of the church. Weapons and shields slowly lowered as it became clear that the shadows weren’t attacking. Dumbstruck silence hung over the group as confused looks passed from party member to party member.
“What in the Light was that?” Gretchen mumbled, breaking the silence.
Not that anyone had a proper answer.
“There was something strange,” Priscilla said, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. “A chill passed over the area as if a thick cloud passed in front of the sun.”
That was a fairly apt description, even if Arkk hadn’t felt a physical cold. He looked over to Savren. The warlock had joined him along with Priscilla and the two magical assistants. Savren held the ceremonial dagger and the shadowy cloths that Arkk had shoved in his hands when he thought they were under attack. “Thoughts?” Arkk asked.
“Lexa lent lexicon after leaving your first ’loratory lot.”
Arkk slowly raised an eyebrow. “Really? ’loratory for exploratory?” Savren just shrugged, leading to Arkk shaking his head. “Shadow puppets,” Arkk said after a moment.
Lexa had mentioned that. She slipped away during that first encounter with a Protector and scouted out some of the village ruins near the portal. She had found shadows of villagers doing perfectly normal things like eating at a table, knitting, or sleeping. Not wanting to provoke the Protectors, they hadn’t returned to the village to investigate further.
Arkk had almost forgotten about it.
“Think we can communicate with them?”
“It looked like they stood around talking,” Dakka said, still on guard. “Didn’t hear a whisper. Did you?”
Arkk couldn’t say he had. The entire… procession had been utterly silent. The only noise came from disturbed horses and armor clanking as his crew moved around.
“I don’t think they’re real,” Morvin said. He winced and looked back to Savren as if he were asking for approval. Savren didn’t move one way or another but Morvin took that as permission to continue. “I mean. Obviously, there is something there. But nothing with thought. Shadow puppets is an apt description. Perhaps shadow echoes or shadow ghosts. We would need to examine them a bit more to be sure.”
“Sounds right to me,” Dakka said. “Not that I know anything about magic. Just the feeling I got, you know? There’s nothing there but—”
“Poor Lady Shadows.”
Arkk jolted. He whirled around along with most of his team. Dakka jumped in front of him, shield raised. Priscilla was a little slow on the uptake, looking around as if nothing was wrong. She must have sensed the tension in the air as everyone else scrambled to reposition. Her wings, unfurled fully, worked as a shield over the group.
If only she were facing the right way.
A Protector stood in front of them. Twice as tall as their tallest orc without including the elf-leg-length horns, it loomed over the group with its long and lanky limbs. This Protector did not carry a jagged sword or a goblet. Its long, sharp fingers would work well enough for a weapon, as would all the many spikes covering its reddish-orange carapace.
“Faced with the end, the Lady Shadows reached out and touched her people. An attempt to save them, I am sure. But the Lady Shadows doesn’t understand. Can’t understand.” The Protector’s yellow eyes shifted their horizontal pupils to the group of Company Al-Mir, now fully prepared for battle. “Their shadows endlessly act out happier days. They fail to notice that their cities have crumbled around them. There is no thought. No desire. No drive. Just the act. A final and endless performance for poor Lady Shadows.”
It let its commentary hang in the silent air for a long moment, looking back to the temple’s entrance. Arkk stared at it, tension slowly lessening as he took in its words. Compared to his last encounter with a Protector, this encounter was going positively swimmingly. It was talking. It was explaining things. Why explain things so calmly and casually if not to engage in communication rather than violence?
“You can speak now?” Arkk asked, stepping around Dakka to face the Protector directly.
“I learned,” it said, eyes swiveling down to Savren and the artifacts he carried. He shied back, shirking behind Gretchen and Morvin. “Poor Lady Shadows, suffered so much, must now suffer at the hands of pillagers and looters, raiding what little remains of the Lady Shadows’ once great kingdom.”
All that tension came flooding back. The Protector hadn’t moved but the hostility in its tone was enough to twist Arkk’s stomach.
“We sought audience with the Cloak of Shadows to ask for her aid,” Arkk said, as fast as he could. He still had some hope that they and the Protectors wouldn’t have to be enemies. “Our enemy is the Heart of Gold, one of the Pantheon who is responsible for the sorry state of your Lady Shadows. But fighting on our own while the Heart of Gold sends boon after boon to their worshipers is… not the kind of battle we can win.”
“You fail to find audience and thus you resort to theft.” The protector leaned forward, looking at Savren even as one of the orcs moved between him and the creature. “I understand.”
“Not theft. A boon from a god can come in many forms. It need not be a personal chat with a god. Divine inspiration leading us to valuable artifacts like the tower or this dagger are equally valid,” Arkk said, bullshitting to the best of his ability. “How can you say that the Cloak of Shadows would prefer for such artifacts to rot away in this wasteland rather than be put to good use?”
“You claim to understand the wants and desires of the Lady Shadows? Impossible. You cannot know the unknowable.”
“I only claim to know what I know,” Arkk said. “And I know we didn’t find this place by chance. You think, in this entire wasteland of a world, we would have just happened across this temple and the Walking Fortress Istanur?”
The Protector did not respond. It stood, stooped forward with its long, blue hair flowing down its back like a waterfall. Its head tilted, swiveling somewhat as it looked over the group.
Arkk couldn’t tell what it was thinking. The faces of the Protectors, although humanoid in appearance, were rigid chitin. Its only means of conveying an expression came in its eyes and even those were alien and unreadable.
“We aren’t here to disrupt the… lives of the shadow people,” Arkk said, pleading his point. “Nor are we here to destroy or plunder. But when inspiration points us toward artifacts that might help against the enemy of the Cloak of Shadows, who are we to not make use of them?”
Priscilla had found both the tower and this temple. She claimed that the stars showed her what she needed to see. Maybe he was twisting things somewhat, but that sounded like divine inspiration to him. Perhaps not inspiration from the Cloak of Shadows, but it was the best they had.
“Come with us,” Arkk continued. “If you don’t believe us, join us and witness the enemy we fight. Make your decision after.”
“I don’t believe you so I should join you. The logic is… absurd.”
Arkk just scoffed. “These are absurd times we’re living in.”
The Protector didn’t seem to have a response to that. It simply swiveled its head, its alien expression conveying nothing.
“So what will it be?” Arkk asked, not even trying to read the creature’s body language. “Will you come with us and at least look for the possibility of a brighter future? Or do we have to fry another one of your… bodies? Or however you work.”
A few of Arkk’s crew tensed at the casual threat. They were tense enough as it was. Antagonizing the creature that towered over them, especially when they all knew how difficult the last one had been to put down, probably didn’t sit well with them. Arkk wasn’t so concerned. This time, they all knew that lightning would take them down with relative ease. Everyone present could cast at least one lightning bolt. Likely more in the Underworld, given the constant ambient magic in the air.
The Protector didn’t rise to the quip. It stared for another moment before breaking eye contact, looking back toward the temple. Although its expression was just as unreadable as usual, Arkk felt a vague forlorn sensation in the way it stared where the shadows had gathered. Alien mind or not, Arkk felt he had a decent grasp on what it was thinking at this moment.
“A brighter future…” it said, still staring at the temple.
Arkk thought he caught a note of disappointment in its tone that was separate from that forlorn feeling.
Dakka nudged him in the side. “A shadowy future? A darker future?” she hissed. Her voice was somewhat stressed despite the forced humor in her quip.
“Ah. Sorry,” Arkk said to the Protector. “That was a tactless remark. Turns of phrase here are probably a little different than back home.”
It turned away, looking back to Arkk. “I understood your meaning.” Slowly, it turned its gaze over to Savren once more. “I learned much since our last encounter.”
Savren adopted a sneer, glaring at the Protector. “You harbored the hallowed harvest of knowledge, pilfered precious perceptions from my pondering psyche?”
“I presume that is why you’re able to communicate so naturally,” Arkk said, ignoring Savren.
Savren had mentioned that, during the time where their minds were linked, several secrets of Fortress Al-Mir may have made their way from his end to the other. Arkk wasn’t too concerned about that. Unless the Protector had a whole army of bodies to use, they weren’t going to be able to make use of any real secrets. Not like Evestani or the Abbey of the Light would if they learned more.
Rather, Arkk probably owed Savren thanks. Although unintentional, that pilfering of his psyche was likely the only reason the Protector was communicating now, instead of attacking immediately like they had at the village. That alone made that mind ritual worth it, even if Savren hadn’t enjoyed it.
The Protector dipped its head in what had to be an agreement with Arkk’s statement. “Knowing what I now know, I am more inclined to believe your words of peace even despite your actions here today.”
“So…?”
“Your proposition is acceptable. I will observe your actions and render judgment, even aid if I deem it worthy. In exchange, you will assist the Lady Shadows.”
“I’m not exactly sure how to assist a god, but what we’re doing is hopefully for the good of everyone, including the Cloak of Shadows. Is that enough?”
“It will have to be.”
The moment the Protector spoke, Arkk staggered. He smacked a hand into his forehead, rubbing at a sudden ache as a link formed. A strange link. It felt like just a single person but, the moment he tried to follow the link, it split and split and split. Dozens… hundreds… perhaps even thousands of the Protectors stood at the other ends. They were spread across the Underworld, and few were gathered together in groups. They were dotted about, few and far between. Only near the portal were there any gathered together. Even then, there were only a dozen, all hiding out in that village.
“Arkk?” Dakka whispered in concern. She reached out but wasn’t able to accomplish much with her shield and weapon in her hands.
Arkk shook his head, pulling his awareness back to himself. “I’m fine,” he said, patting Dakka on her armored arm. He turned back to the Protector and added, “Don’t try going near the portal until we get back. The guards have standing orders to defend the wall if any of you get too close. I’ll inform them of the change in situation once we return.”
“Acceptable.”
Arkk could already think of a dozen uses for the Protectors. Even if they weren’t willing to fight, their shared mind even over vast distances and a multitude of bodies meant that they could communicate instantly. Arkk could ask one to do or say something and someone else, far away, could hear his orders instantly.
Stationing one inside the scrying room would let them disseminate scrying updates to any active teams instantly. Something like that could have warned against the ambush at the supply lines, warning the team the moment the fog settled into the crystal balls. One at the former Duke’s manor, one with Hawkwood, one with the Walking Fortress…
Arkk was getting ahead of himself. The Protector had said that it would render aid, but Arkk would have to hash out the details with it later on. See what it was willing and unwilling to help with.
And how best to keep it happy.
He had ideas about that as well. Some he had built up just during their conversation.
Arkk set the lesser servants in the fortress to clear out a large chamber. One with a high ceiling and plenty of open space. A new temple. One dedicated to the Cloak of Shadows. Something modeled after the temple here. He might have to get Vezta to help design the schematics for the room but he could start making the space right now.
They could even keep the ceremonial knife there, along with any other objects they took from the Underworld. Although they might be engaged in a little plundering of this world, despite his earlier words, they could at least show that they were treating the recovered artifacts with respect. The temple could act as a reliquary for anything related to the Cloak of Shadows.
Speaking of…
“I imagine we have a great deal to discuss even if you know most of our story from Savren. The way back is long and we’ll have time aplenty. For now, however…” Arkk paused, not quite sure how to breach the subject. Open honesty was the best option, he supposed. “We came out here to find aid from the Cloak of Shadows. As long as we are out here, I don’t suppose you would be aware of anything that might assist in our efforts.”
“More trinkets to loot?”
Arkk heard the disapproval in that question. He quickly shook his head, only to pause. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”
The Protector’s eyes flicked to the ceremonial dagger. It held out a hand, wordlessly asking for it to be passed over.
Out in the sun, it wasn’t visible. The only reason Arkk knew it was there was because of the way Savren gripped at nothing. Though he didn’t grip for long. Without even looking to Arkk for permission, Savren held out the dagger and the shadowy cloths for the Protector.
With reverence befitting a priceless artifact, the Protector took the dagger and held it up in one of its four hands. The long claws didn’t fit around the leatherbound grip in a way that indicated it had been designed for something like the Protector. After holding it up, examining the invisible blade in the light, it took the smaller of the cloths from Savren and wrapped the blade from tip to pommel.
It left the larger cloth in Savren’s hands but kept a tight hold of the bound blade.
“There is one other object of note in the area,” it said, using its long legs to practically step over the group as it made its way to the temple entrance. “Though I do not know if the Shadow Forge will fit in your small cart.”