The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (pdf to ebook reader .txt) đź“–
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other. Built from the black stone that was so prevalent in the Abyss the walls were ten feet thick and fifty feet high. The palace had a sleek, alien design with rounded corners and striking lines that gave it a haunting beauty. Above the spearing towers winged demons patrolled the skies. Their wings being like those of a dragonfly the constant sound of humming filled the air. All of this Dardiax pledged these foolish adventurers would never see.
Sending a portal directly to the four unwary travelers, he gave them access to the deepest levels of his home. There they would be tested both mentally and physically and after they were tormented sufficiently Dardiax would find the answers to his questions. Torturing them would force their minds to open to him. Though the demonic mindflow was not as strong as the devils he would succeed once the mortals were weakened. As he watched his scrying pool the four did as any foolhardy adventurers would, they entered the portal.
Dardiax the Darkbringer then did something he had not done in decades, he set down his mighty Scepter of Fire and enclosed it within a large iron chest. The chest would not open unless the proper command word was spoken. For a split second he toyed with the notion that he might be being watched but that was foolish. Here his power was the only law and none would dare spy on the Darkbringer! Closing the chest he turned to the pool and watched as the fools adjusted to their new predicament. Easily battling past the several minor demons that dwelled in the chambers they moved on to a large hallway and quietly crept onward through the dark tunnels. Dardiax smiled wryly then and thought how amusing this was going to be.
^ ^ ^
As the demon lord disappeared with a puff of acrid smoke a certain wizard took his turn to smile. Merleptus’ plans were working well so far and though he truly had not intended for Dardiax to discover his hirelings' identities and purpose, he could not help them now. His only task now was to take the Scepter and return to his hidden lair. Knowing the command word for the iron chest it took only the casting of a portal to facilitate his journey to and from the demon’s palace in the Abyss. This he did quickly and perfectly for he had been preparing for this since he first discovered how to scry into other dimensions.
When he arrived in the central caverns where the demon lord resided he cast a spell of warding that would prevent Dardiax from sensing his presence there. Moving to the man sized seamless chest he muttered the word he had paid a considerable price for. “Dau’istae Mor.”
Slowly the chest responded to the command and opened but as it did so Merleptus heard a most strange sound behind him. It was reminiscent of a sound made by a heavy door with rusty hinges. It rang out in the dripping chamber, “Gneeeaagh!”
Spinning about, a spell on his tongue, Merleptus was more surprised by what had created the distraction. It was an imp not two feet high with purplish skin and a pointed tail that snaked behind him. Looking like a miniature devil with an enormous bulbous nose swollen, pocked and sprouting warts at its tip, the creature peered at the mage from eye level, held aloft by two leathery wings. He knew the creature was no challenge to him so he turned back to the source of his attentions. Reaching into the chest he grasped the Scepter and brought it back around to bear on the insignificant Imp.
He knew he had to slay the pest so it would not report his actions to its master yet as the wizard was about to attack the imp it spoke, “Hey you, I’d put that down if I were you! The master isn’t gonna like it.”
And before Merleptus could respond it again wiped its nose, “Gneeeaaagh!”
Merleptus finally responded by swinging the Scepter at it but the imp flew up out of harms way. Then, looking to the waiting portal the mage turned and headed toward it.
“Gneeeeagh!” The imp flew down for the mage’s back as Merleptus had known it would and as it nearly struck with its pointed tail the crafty mage bent forward causing it to miss. The imp, unprepared for the move, lunged past the wizard and now its own rear was exposed.
Merleptus took the opportunity and swung hard at the drippy nosed pest. This time though the imp flew forward, just being struck enough to push him even faster away from the mage, and on an uncontrollable flight toward the conjured portal. The impish wings were meant for hovering more than true flying and even though this particular imp was a more skilled flyer than most he could not stop from hurtling forward. Always looking on the bright side the imp thought to itself how lucky it was the human did not know how to use the Scepter’s powers or he might be a pile of ash right now.
Merleptus recovered from his swing slowly, finding the relic hard to wield as a weapon. He did not feel any magic in it and knew there would have to be rituals that would allow him to wield it properly. The relic had enough power to destroy a whole countryside or incinerate the smallest of creatures but it also had other properties. The relic permeated pure evil and when someone wielded it for long enough they would be turned toward its own way of thinking. Dardiax was lucky in the fact that he naturally agreed with the item’s opinion. Merleptus was different.
The manipulative master of the arcane arts had committed some harsh crimes against many adventurers, such as sending them on suicide missions while he secretly stole what he required. Even going so far as to later recover the magic the poor fools bore with them on their journeys in his name.
Still, even he could not commit the atrocities demons found commonplace. Merleptus did not truly want to harm anyone and he genuinely wished success for those who worked for him. Was it not true that he went through great trouble to get the adventurers the Elder Scrolls so they might have an even better chance at success on the quests? It was not his fault so many of those beings were so greedy they would ask for an item that would only benefit themselves rather than the entire party. Through his pondering he thought of the group Dardiax was probably descending upon right now. They had been different from most of the others. Their apparent leader immediately requested a healing salve. The others, except for the Griffon lord, chose items that would eventually benefit them all. The elf was obsessed with the finding of the Bailick so the often obsessed mage could not blame him, though Graton’s friends may have been upset by his seeming lack of foresight or consideration. Yes, the elf did indeed have some promise.
As the mage followed the annoying imp through the portal he sent a simple spell of message sending to Sevele the beauteous. It would swirl quickly through the ebb of magic that permeated that corner of the Abyss and reach the recipient in the form of a whisper for their ears alone.
The message reflected the more considerate side of the mage and would say, “Remember the ring, this is not worth your lives!”
^ ^ ^
Not so far away the friends were quietly moving from dark hall to torch lit chamber. Sevele was vehemently chastising all three men for she did not agree with walking into a portal that suddenly appeared, that is of course if someone could effectively chastise someone while whispering, let alone seeming vehement at the same time. They as yet had found no evidence that they were in the palace where the Scepter was supposed to be. They didn't even know where they were. The Abyss maybe, perhaps somewhere far from there but they had no way of knowing for sure.
Sevele recalled now why she traveled alone for all those years in Ara’moor. A man was prone to rush into things blindly, not considering the outcome and these three she had become so attached to were not any different. Darkon had been especially drawn to the portal saying he had a feeling. Though she had accepted his power of the mind she had not yet learned to trust its many quirks, or for that matter his ability to control it. Several times he had barged into her mind without notice claiming merely a desire to communicate in private. After she slapped him a heavy, stinging blow across his face he did learn better. Now he would whistle in a low tone to ask her permission and with a nod she would accept or deny his thoughts.
Now no exchanges of thoughts were made as they used the light of Graton’s spear to move from unmarked hall to empty chamber. After the initial encounter with a pack of weaker demons no contact had been made between them and any of this place’s inhabitants. Occasionally they could hear echoes of guttural voices or doors closing but nothing crossed their paths. The group was almost becoming comfortable with their surroundings when the inevitable occurred.
A sudden puff of black smoke that reeked of death erupted in front of them as they entered a wide chamber. Within the billowing smoke a large form manifested itself. Nearly as tall as the twelve foot ceiling its ashen skin left an eerie backdrop for its sickeningly glowing eyes. Clearly a demon, its serpentine lower-half glimmered in the light of Graton's spear. Its human face leered down at them as it bobbed like a serpentine monstrosity. Much like when they met the devil general they were struck with a horror that shocked them into numbness. Though that was just the initial reaction this time. At once three of the four began to retch uncontrollably and fell to the stone floor no longer able to command their muscles to hold them up. Too stricken to scream or move they could only stare, as Darkon stood unaffected between them and the horror.
Darkon focused his thoughts and formed his arm into the steel sword he had become so accustomed to. Unlike his friends he was not afraid, no, instead he was invigorated. This he knew must be a demon lord. His people were created to destroy its kind and ruin their plots, so they were therefore immune to the fear that so easily defeated inexperienced mortals. They were instead empowered by it. The sword arm swelled with adrenaline sped blood and grew to nearly twice its length and was still easy to wield. As he tested its weight the demon lord looked on and smiled.
“You surely do not believe you could challenge me, foolish Demonslayer. Do you?” Dardiax gratingly asked.
Darkon took heart with the growing energy within him and said, “I will sacrifice myself to save my friends if I must, beast!”
A malicious gleam in its eyes, the demon lord coiled its serpent tail beneath it as if readying to strike, yet this was quick in passing and it relaxed on the coils and folded its gangly arms.
“Tell me now,
Sending a portal directly to the four unwary travelers, he gave them access to the deepest levels of his home. There they would be tested both mentally and physically and after they were tormented sufficiently Dardiax would find the answers to his questions. Torturing them would force their minds to open to him. Though the demonic mindflow was not as strong as the devils he would succeed once the mortals were weakened. As he watched his scrying pool the four did as any foolhardy adventurers would, they entered the portal.
Dardiax the Darkbringer then did something he had not done in decades, he set down his mighty Scepter of Fire and enclosed it within a large iron chest. The chest would not open unless the proper command word was spoken. For a split second he toyed with the notion that he might be being watched but that was foolish. Here his power was the only law and none would dare spy on the Darkbringer! Closing the chest he turned to the pool and watched as the fools adjusted to their new predicament. Easily battling past the several minor demons that dwelled in the chambers they moved on to a large hallway and quietly crept onward through the dark tunnels. Dardiax smiled wryly then and thought how amusing this was going to be.
^ ^ ^
As the demon lord disappeared with a puff of acrid smoke a certain wizard took his turn to smile. Merleptus’ plans were working well so far and though he truly had not intended for Dardiax to discover his hirelings' identities and purpose, he could not help them now. His only task now was to take the Scepter and return to his hidden lair. Knowing the command word for the iron chest it took only the casting of a portal to facilitate his journey to and from the demon’s palace in the Abyss. This he did quickly and perfectly for he had been preparing for this since he first discovered how to scry into other dimensions.
When he arrived in the central caverns where the demon lord resided he cast a spell of warding that would prevent Dardiax from sensing his presence there. Moving to the man sized seamless chest he muttered the word he had paid a considerable price for. “Dau’istae Mor.”
Slowly the chest responded to the command and opened but as it did so Merleptus heard a most strange sound behind him. It was reminiscent of a sound made by a heavy door with rusty hinges. It rang out in the dripping chamber, “Gneeeaagh!”
Spinning about, a spell on his tongue, Merleptus was more surprised by what had created the distraction. It was an imp not two feet high with purplish skin and a pointed tail that snaked behind him. Looking like a miniature devil with an enormous bulbous nose swollen, pocked and sprouting warts at its tip, the creature peered at the mage from eye level, held aloft by two leathery wings. He knew the creature was no challenge to him so he turned back to the source of his attentions. Reaching into the chest he grasped the Scepter and brought it back around to bear on the insignificant Imp.
He knew he had to slay the pest so it would not report his actions to its master yet as the wizard was about to attack the imp it spoke, “Hey you, I’d put that down if I were you! The master isn’t gonna like it.”
And before Merleptus could respond it again wiped its nose, “Gneeeaaagh!”
Merleptus finally responded by swinging the Scepter at it but the imp flew up out of harms way. Then, looking to the waiting portal the mage turned and headed toward it.
“Gneeeeagh!” The imp flew down for the mage’s back as Merleptus had known it would and as it nearly struck with its pointed tail the crafty mage bent forward causing it to miss. The imp, unprepared for the move, lunged past the wizard and now its own rear was exposed.
Merleptus took the opportunity and swung hard at the drippy nosed pest. This time though the imp flew forward, just being struck enough to push him even faster away from the mage, and on an uncontrollable flight toward the conjured portal. The impish wings were meant for hovering more than true flying and even though this particular imp was a more skilled flyer than most he could not stop from hurtling forward. Always looking on the bright side the imp thought to itself how lucky it was the human did not know how to use the Scepter’s powers or he might be a pile of ash right now.
Merleptus recovered from his swing slowly, finding the relic hard to wield as a weapon. He did not feel any magic in it and knew there would have to be rituals that would allow him to wield it properly. The relic had enough power to destroy a whole countryside or incinerate the smallest of creatures but it also had other properties. The relic permeated pure evil and when someone wielded it for long enough they would be turned toward its own way of thinking. Dardiax was lucky in the fact that he naturally agreed with the item’s opinion. Merleptus was different.
The manipulative master of the arcane arts had committed some harsh crimes against many adventurers, such as sending them on suicide missions while he secretly stole what he required. Even going so far as to later recover the magic the poor fools bore with them on their journeys in his name.
Still, even he could not commit the atrocities demons found commonplace. Merleptus did not truly want to harm anyone and he genuinely wished success for those who worked for him. Was it not true that he went through great trouble to get the adventurers the Elder Scrolls so they might have an even better chance at success on the quests? It was not his fault so many of those beings were so greedy they would ask for an item that would only benefit themselves rather than the entire party. Through his pondering he thought of the group Dardiax was probably descending upon right now. They had been different from most of the others. Their apparent leader immediately requested a healing salve. The others, except for the Griffon lord, chose items that would eventually benefit them all. The elf was obsessed with the finding of the Bailick so the often obsessed mage could not blame him, though Graton’s friends may have been upset by his seeming lack of foresight or consideration. Yes, the elf did indeed have some promise.
As the mage followed the annoying imp through the portal he sent a simple spell of message sending to Sevele the beauteous. It would swirl quickly through the ebb of magic that permeated that corner of the Abyss and reach the recipient in the form of a whisper for their ears alone.
The message reflected the more considerate side of the mage and would say, “Remember the ring, this is not worth your lives!”
^ ^ ^
Not so far away the friends were quietly moving from dark hall to torch lit chamber. Sevele was vehemently chastising all three men for she did not agree with walking into a portal that suddenly appeared, that is of course if someone could effectively chastise someone while whispering, let alone seeming vehement at the same time. They as yet had found no evidence that they were in the palace where the Scepter was supposed to be. They didn't even know where they were. The Abyss maybe, perhaps somewhere far from there but they had no way of knowing for sure.
Sevele recalled now why she traveled alone for all those years in Ara’moor. A man was prone to rush into things blindly, not considering the outcome and these three she had become so attached to were not any different. Darkon had been especially drawn to the portal saying he had a feeling. Though she had accepted his power of the mind she had not yet learned to trust its many quirks, or for that matter his ability to control it. Several times he had barged into her mind without notice claiming merely a desire to communicate in private. After she slapped him a heavy, stinging blow across his face he did learn better. Now he would whistle in a low tone to ask her permission and with a nod she would accept or deny his thoughts.
Now no exchanges of thoughts were made as they used the light of Graton’s spear to move from unmarked hall to empty chamber. After the initial encounter with a pack of weaker demons no contact had been made between them and any of this place’s inhabitants. Occasionally they could hear echoes of guttural voices or doors closing but nothing crossed their paths. The group was almost becoming comfortable with their surroundings when the inevitable occurred.
A sudden puff of black smoke that reeked of death erupted in front of them as they entered a wide chamber. Within the billowing smoke a large form manifested itself. Nearly as tall as the twelve foot ceiling its ashen skin left an eerie backdrop for its sickeningly glowing eyes. Clearly a demon, its serpentine lower-half glimmered in the light of Graton's spear. Its human face leered down at them as it bobbed like a serpentine monstrosity. Much like when they met the devil general they were struck with a horror that shocked them into numbness. Though that was just the initial reaction this time. At once three of the four began to retch uncontrollably and fell to the stone floor no longer able to command their muscles to hold them up. Too stricken to scream or move they could only stare, as Darkon stood unaffected between them and the horror.
Darkon focused his thoughts and formed his arm into the steel sword he had become so accustomed to. Unlike his friends he was not afraid, no, instead he was invigorated. This he knew must be a demon lord. His people were created to destroy its kind and ruin their plots, so they were therefore immune to the fear that so easily defeated inexperienced mortals. They were instead empowered by it. The sword arm swelled with adrenaline sped blood and grew to nearly twice its length and was still easy to wield. As he tested its weight the demon lord looked on and smiled.
“You surely do not believe you could challenge me, foolish Demonslayer. Do you?” Dardiax gratingly asked.
Darkon took heart with the growing energy within him and said, “I will sacrifice myself to save my friends if I must, beast!”
A malicious gleam in its eyes, the demon lord coiled its serpent tail beneath it as if readying to strike, yet this was quick in passing and it relaxed on the coils and folded its gangly arms.
“Tell me now,
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