Wasteland

 

 

There were a few things about the other side of the portal that stuck out as just being off.

The sun didn’t seem to set. If whatever was up in those orange clouds was a sun at all. Since the portal opened, round-the-clock guards stationed at the entrance had kept an eye on the situation. None of them could recall any darkening of the other side. Even after spending three hours on the other side of the portal, waiting for Zullie to give her assessment of its stability, the dark orange light in the sky hadn’t moved one way or the other.

The sun might have been a major contributor to the second oddity. The heat. While not to the point of boiling flesh from bones, there was a dry, sweltering heat that never seemed to lessen. It felt about as hot as the hottest day in summer. Weatherable, but not pleasant. That had caused another delay in further exploration. Not wanting his men to collapse from heat exhaustion, Arkk had Savren and Zullie work on magical methods of cooling while the guards brought out large tarps to provide shade. He had even brought over some lesser servants. They couldn’t build without a contiguous connection to the fortress—which the portal did not count as—but they could dig down to provide cool places to take breaks in.

Finally, the sheer density of the magic permeating throughout the air was tangible. Literally. Just drawing up a little magic to Flesh Weave a small cut back together felt tingly. One of the ritual circles Zullie had drawn up to try to cool the area down activated spontaneously. She and Savren had descended into a long and academic discussion—or shouting match—about the viability of harvesting the magic to later power ritual circles without requiring spellcasters or overcharged magic wands and other artifacts.

“Was this what the world was like before the Calamity?” Arkk asked. He flung a lightning bolt at an old stone column without even speaking the Electro Deus incantation. There was no need. The magic was already at his fingertips. All Arkk had to do was shape it into a bolt of electricity, which was an action he had done hundreds of times.

Vezta shook her head, long and slow. “No. There was more magic in the world then than there is now but not like this. To be clear, it wasn’t like this here either. They were more… balanced, I suppose.”

Arkk frowned, considering everything he knew of the situation. Vezta had explained the generalities of the situation when he first met her and, on the occasions he asked, she explained some of the specifics as well. Her findings and theories on the subject of the Calamity often went over Arkk’s head. Especially at the start.

But he felt he knew enough to make some general assumptions of his own.

“The Underworld is the closest plane to the… surface world?” After all this time, he still didn’t know what his home plane was called.

“Null. Or the [ALLWORLD],” Vezta supplied. “Called such because it is the only known plane lacking a connected deity, thus allowing any of the [PANTHEON] to act upon it. Or so it used to be. The traitorous trio might have claimed it as their own at this point. I am not sure how such matters truly function as they are a level elevated from beings such as us.”

“Alright, Allworld, then. So we’ve got fifteen other planes like this, all of which are brimming with magic and one that isn’t. And they’re at some metaphysical distance away from each other. So the magic… flows like a river through them and into the Allworld? Except the Calamity was like a dam, leading to the magic from all the various planes just building and building here.”

“An assumption most reasonable, Master.”

“Is the excess of magic the reason this place looks like this?” Arkk asked, stooping to pick up a fistful of sand, which he let drift between his fingers as he stood. “You said this isn’t how it used to be.”

“Also an assumption. Unfortunately,” Vezta said, frowning down at the mound of sand he had disturbed, “I imagine it will take years of research to determine if either assumption is correct.”

“Let’s assume they are for the moment. At least until we have a meeting with Zullie and anyone else qualified who might have other theories.” Arkk paused, watching as Dakka approached from the little outpost that the defensive team was building. Their delay must almost be at an end. “If we undo the Calamity and demolish this dam, so to speak… What happens to Allworld when all this magic floods into it?”

Vezta didn’t respond. She stared off into the distance with her lips held tight in a small frown. She maintained the stance until Dakka finished her approach, at which point she slowly shook her head. “I have never claimed to hold all the answers.”

“I suppose it isn’t a concern for the immediate future,” Arkk said. Cracking the Calamity was still a far-off project. “We won’t be able to do anything at all if that golden man gets to us. Dakka,” he said, turning away from the servant. “How goes the setup?”

“Finished. Or finished enough for us to head out. Zullie completed her cooling array and the guards are posted around the portal. The build team has started assembling more permanent defense posts. Everyone’s ready, just waiting on you.” Dakka hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. “Is… uh… Is it really necessary to head all the way out to that group of buildings we saw?”

“It is if we want to find out if this place has anything valuable for us, whether that be people or information.”

“Yeah but why walk? Can’t you scry? At least to see if we’re wasting our time heading to a deserted hovel.”

Arkk shook his head. “Crystal balls don’t work here. At all. Not like how the inquisitors were blocking us. Just nothing. Might as well be a rock.”

“Too much magic in the air, I presume,” Vezta added. “The magic at the point of view is too saturated with random noise to connect back to the ball.”

“Why?” Arkk asked. “Is there a problem with a little march? The buildings don’t look far.”

“Just… Been standing around with Zullie for the last hour as she works on that cooling magic and I’m still sweating like a pig in Larry’s kitchen. Not looking forward to this.”

Dakka lacked her heavy armor at the moment. All the orcs did. It was too hot to be sitting around in a metal can. They had traded the heavy gear for lighter cloth. Breezy and loose to try to help cool them down. Unless they stripped down completely, there wasn’t much else they could do. And, though the sky was transiently overcast in that strange orange way, removing clothes would just leave them exposed to the sun.

“I’m having lesser servants dig a tunnel in the direction,” Arkk said. “But they won’t be done for some time. The ground here is… different than that back home. They’re having trouble eating through it.”

“It’s magic saturation again,” Vezta explained.

“We can get out there and get back well before the lesser servant makes it a quarter of the way. With the Evestani army marching, we don’t have the time to sit around waiting.”

Dakka didn’t look too happy. Her expression was all the worse with the dark paint she had under her eyes. It was supposed to help with the glare of the sun but, at the moment, dripped down her cheeks in long streaks. “Understood, Sir,” she said with a mild sigh.

“We’ll bring plenty of water. Maybe Zullie can work up another cooling array in the back of the cart that will help everyone standing near it.”

“That’d be nice.”

Arkk nodded. If he were being honest, he wasn’t too thrilled about marching across the desert either. And the poor horse… Zullie would have to get something set up en route. They had delayed long enough. “Let’s set off then.”

“Got it!” Zullie called out.

At the same time, a rush of cool wind blew out in all directions from the cart. The relief among the travelers walking alongside it was palpable, obvious in their sudden leaning toward the cart. Arkk let out a long sigh despite himself. He didn’t want to look like the heat had been getting to him.

But taking in that first breath of cool air, suddenly it felt like he could think properly without his head lighting on fire.

He had been about ten minutes from turning the expedition around just to pick up the ice marble from the fortress.

“It was a bit tricky,” Zullie said. She had been talking the whole time Arkk had been basking in the sudden chill. “Most rituals don’t like to be moved. Tossing a circle like this in the back of a cart normally winds up with either nothing happening or a mild explosion. But I managed to refactor the intake and exhaust arrays to handle this magic-saturated environment, using it as both a power source and ventilation.”

“Wonderful,” Arkk said. “You are a genius.”

“I know.”

“Any chance you can get scrying working?”

“I’m a genius, not a miracle worker.”

Zharja shot a look at Zullie. Gorgon expressions weren’t easy to decipher normally. Today, Arkk had a feeling that the gorgon wasn’t all that pleased with Zullie’s work. Gorgon liked warm environments. A sudden cold wind blasting out around the cart wouldn’t feel good on her scales.

Sure enough, Zharja slithered ahead of the group. “Sscouting,” she said as she advanced.

“Don’t go too far!” Arkk called out. “We don’t know what dangers might be lurking in this place.”

Zharja raised a hand, signaling her acknowledgment. Her self-imposed scouting mission didn’t extend further than a few dozen paces ahead of the cart. Presumably just far enough to get out of the direct gusts of wind.

In the future, it would be best to send gorgon on their own rather than mix them with people who would undoubtedly want to make use of Zullie’s cooling ritual. For today, Zharja would just have to deal with it. They were almost at their destination anyway.

The distant buildings were almost upon them. Walking at a fairly sedate pace, it had taken about two hours of travel to reach the village. And it was a village. Or, at least, it held the shape of one. Several cube-shaped buildings jutted up out of the desert landscape, all made from the desert dirt. They had the same reddish-orange coloration as the land around them. As for size, it was well larger than Langleey village but nowhere near Cliff. Without walking through it, it was a little hard to tell, but he guessed it would be on the larger end of most burgs. Akin to Moonshine, Darkwood, or Elmshadow.

Interestingly, the entire village was cast in shadow. At first, while they were still a fair distance away, Arkk had thought that the village was built on and made out of darker earth. Then, upon realizing it was shadow, he had thought that some part of the clouds overhead were a little thicker, thus leading to the strange sight.

But the shadow didn’t move. The clouds did, the orange skies roiled and churned. The shadow around the village stayed in place.

The expeditionary caravan slowed down upon arriving at the shadowy threshold. Even Zharja fell back to the cooling cart, hesitant to progress forward on her own.

Arkk moved up to the front of the group, stopping right at the edge. He glanced at Vezta. “Any idea what’s up with this?”

“This is the Underworld, domain of the Cloak of Shadows. To find oddities involving light does not surprise me.”

“Think it’s dangerous?”

Vezta stuck a hand out. There was no resistance like there had been at the portal, no membrane to puncture. She just swiped her arm through it, brought her arm back, and looked at her hand. “No.”

“I figured,” Arkk said. “You shouldn’t test things like that on yourself though.” Vezta just shrugged—as she had been here before, she had likely known that odd shadows wouldn’t be dangerous. Arkk looked back to the village and cleared his throat. “Hello! Anyone home? We come in peace!”

“Should you really be shouting like that?” Zullie hissed from the cart. “What if someone is home?”

“Then they’ll probably have noticed our approach anyway. We came here to meet people, after all.”

“They would have sent someone if they wanted to meet with us,” Zullie scowled. “Maybe we should go. Oh well, we tried. Nobody home.”

“I thought you would be excited to explore a whole new plane of existence and all the inhabitants.”

Zullie shook her head. “The magic that got us here is what I’m interested in. I don’t care about some dusty world. And I’m starting to get a little freaked out here.” Her eyes narrowed behind her rectangular glasses as she swept her eyes over the shadowy village. “Am I the only one? I’ll shut up if so, but I’ve been feeling like someone has been watching us…”

Lyssa’s head snapped one way. Her ears perked up and started twitching back and forth. The normally quiet werecat narrowed her eyes. “I hear something,” she said.

Frown on her face, Alma pulled her floppy cap off her head, letting her ears stand tall. She looked and listened around as well before nudging Kelsey. The burly ox-hooved man hoisted the smaller half-werecat up on his shoulders. After another moment of listening, she frowned. “It’s a chittering noise. T-t-t-t-t-kind of like. That direction,” she added, pointing to the left. “Er… That way?” she said, swinging her pointer finger to the right. Her finger wavered, drifting back and forth. “Uh…”

“Back up,” Dakka barked out, drawing her axe. The rest of the caravan followed suit, readying weapons. Lyssa unleashed her chain, Zullie drew a magic wand, and Olatt’an hefted up his crossbow.

Arkk stepped away from the shadowy barrier around the village, letting Vezta lead him to the safety of the warriors. “Don’t attack first,” he warned. “We’re here for friends, not to make more enemies.” Despite his words, electricity started crackling between his fingertips.

“I am unaware of beings who might chitter,” Vezta said, tone calm despite her many eyes darting about, seeking out any possible threats. “But a great deal of time has passed since I was last here. I would not be surprised to find new inhabitants.”

“Reassuring,” Olatt’an grunted.

Arkk paid the nervous banter little mind, focusing on the shadows of the village. Disregarding a sudden wish to simply scry on whatever was approaching, he scanned the spaces between the buildings. Was it just him or were the shadows darkening? He could barely see beyond the first row of buildings. Whereas before it was more like the village had been in the shadow of a large tree, now it was like night had fallen just for this one section of the land.

Not seeing anything beyond the darkening shadow, he quickly glanced over to the two werecats. Lyssa, the more cat-like of the two, stood stooped over, glowering at the encroaching darkness while lightly spinning her spiked chain. Alma readied her twin hand crossbows, eyes actively flicking back and forth at the same time as her ears twitched. Just before Arkk looked away, both their eyes widened.

Arkk snapped his head to the side, following their gaze.

It took a considerable expenditure of willpower to avoid an undignified shout. Some of the others did not succeed but Arkk lacked the wherewithal to check who at the moment.

A face lurked just beyond the veil of shadows. Barely humanoid, it had wide, yellow eyes with black horizontal pupils like those of a sheep. Two long horns stood tall on its head while an array of smaller spikes poked out of a mess of black hair. Its obsidian skin looked hard and gleaming. More like a spider’s carapace than flesh. The spikes continued down its face and neck, which was segmented like an armored gauntlet to allow for movement.

Its arms split at the elbows, ending up with four total hands. Much smaller spikes covered the arms and hands and the segmented sections existed anywhere a bend was necessary. Two of its arms clung to the side of one of the buildings while the other two were hidden above the top. Its chest bulged in a way that looked sculpted more than natural. The rest of its torso was lined like a ribcage that stretched far, far too long with far, far too many ribs.

Arkk couldn’t see the rest of it, hidden both by the veil of shadows and the side of the building. With its arms and torso being as large as they were, he could easily see this creature standing taller than the building it clung to.

It crept forward, arms moving in a way that sent chills up Arkk’s spine.

Like the first time he had encountered Vezta, Arkk felt that this was a monster that had existed before the Calamity. A class of being that didn’t fit within the categories of demihuman or beastman. Unlike the first time he met Vezta, Arkk did not feel that encompassing sensation of dread or terror. It was creepy, there was no doubt about that. Especially the movement of its arms and the way it tilted its head far more than any being with a spine could manage.

After meeting a literal god, Arkk wasn’t quite sure that anything so mundane could fill his heart with terror anymore.

It stopped moving forward at the edge of the building, looming over the side.

Arkk held out a hand to his crew, palms facing toward the ground. “Steady,” he said, trying to inject as much calm as he could into his voice. It hadn’t lunged, pounced, cast a spell, or otherwise attacked. “Vezta?” he whispered to his side.

“I don’t know this creature.”

Well… it hadn’t attacked so far. It had a remarkably humanoid face as well, if one ignored the wide, sheep-like eyes. Despite looking insectoid, it even had lips. Though, much like its chest, they looked more sculpted than natural. Still, perhaps it could talk?

The situation reminded him so much of the first time he had met Vezta that he decided to try the same thing he had then.

Taking a step forward, Arkk waved a hand. “Hello,” he said, still going for the calm and confident tone. “Sorry for intruding on your home.”

The creature stretched its neck out a handspan, swinging its chin from left to right as it focused on Arkk.

He noted two things in its hands. One, a blade as long as Arkk’s arm, jagged and curved. The other hand, one opposite from the blade, looked like a wine glass. A fancy one like what he had drank from at the Duke’s party. Both of those sparked hope in Arkk’s mind. Tools meant that this wasn’t some unthinking animal that had taken up shelter in an abandoned village. Tools weren’t typically used by the unintelligent.

And a wine glass, made from proper glass, indicated some level of civility. At the very least, it had taken care to avoid crushing the fragile flute.

His hopes turned to ash as the creature opened its mouth. It didn’t speak. Its mouth opened beyond the sculpted lips, taking the entire jaw down to reveal a mouth filled with thin, needle-like teeth.

An ear-piercing screech of ten thousand bats wailing at once made everyone flinch.

A crossbow bolt flew through the air. Arkk wasn’t sure which of the crossbow wielders had let loose but it didn’t matter. The creature wasn’t on top of the building by the time the bolt struck the side. Propelled into the air by thick, digitigrade legs, the creature flew and came down amid the group, forcing Dakka and Krett’al to dodge its landing.

It stood tall, bringing its clawed feet together. It towered over everyone, twice as tall as the tallest orc in the group.

Its head swiveled around a full circle, looking at every one of those who now surrounded it.

A beat of uncertainty passed.

The following beat brought chaos.