Hey there, dear readers! Here we are with the next chapter of The Thaumaturgist! Once again I would like to thank Trismegistus Shandy for being a wonderful proofreader, and an all-around wonderful person! If you haven't yet, I urge you to give their stories a read! Now, please enjoy chapter thirteen, my lucky number!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Thaumaturgist (Chapter 13)

 

by

 

Elite Shade

 

 

 

 

 

"Hmmm," Arono said as he sat atop his trusted steed, Popalo, waiting at a fork in the road. Night had fallen, and there was a light drizzle, with flashes of lightning off in the distance. Arono looked from one path to the next, trying to decide which one to take.

"Blast it, Popalo," Arono said, letting out a frustrated huff at the donkey, who stood there, looking sullen, "once more you have gotten us lost!" They had been following the only path ever since leaving the gate. The fork in the road was currently the first split in the path that they had encountered.

"Alright, I know exactly what to do!" Arono said with confidence, turning Popalo to face into the slight breeze. Arono's red cape was fluttering a bit behind him while the unbuttoned portion of his shirt did the same. "I shall let my heart guide the way!"

Arono clapped his red leather gloved hands together and closed his eyes, concentrating. Popalo started to bray, getting annoyed at just standing out in the rain, before the elf's eyes shot open, and he pointed to the right-most path.

"The fair lady Daso awaits my rescue! Onward, Popalo!" Arono said, guiding the donkey towards the indicated path. Popalo let out another annoyed bray as the two continued their journey... on a path that would circumvent the fort entirely.

 

Meanwhile...

 

"So what do the green flashes of light mean, kiji?" Zed asked Daso as they stood, looking over the crenelations of the fort. The mercenaries had been on alert since the storm started, sentires making their rounds all along the top. Lightning laced the sky in intricate patterns, loud claps of thunder ringing out, only to be drowned out by the roaring of the corven wyrms. With each flash of light there were visible, within the clouds, the massive writhing shadows of the beasts. Daso watched despite the deluge, then turned his attention back to the flashing green lights, which were now happening in rapid succession all around the fort, but the majority originating from the woods.

"I'm not really sure," Daso admitted, shifting his glowing crystal battle-axe from one shoulder to the other, "but we'll be finding out soon enough."

Immediately after Daso said that, there was a loud horn blast from the woods, followed by an audible silence. Then the highwaymen burst forth from the trees, roaring. Shortly following them were over a dozen large lumbering figures, each one easily three times the size of the tallest highwayman. Daso peered through the binoculars and focused on one of these newcomers, the fog dispersing. The figure seemed to be made up of rocks and moss, with an uprooted tree-stump for a head. Its four arms looked like thick and gnarled tree roots growing through round boulders, the arms ending in rocky fists with three leafy fingers, whereas its legs were just thick tree trunks with rocks serving as its kneecaps. Wherever plant matter met rock, there was a green light shimmering in between the two.

"Golems," Daso said, his right eyebrow raising in surprise, "and here I was thinking that the dwarf was going to use some kind of necromancy."

"Golems?" Zed asked as he looked over the crenelation at the approaching horde with its bolstered ranks.

"Yeah, sort of like an automaton, but crafted solely from magic using materials just found lying around," Daso explained as he hefted his crystal axe in front of him, slowly waving his left hand over the blade, speaking in a foreign tongue.

"Eta n'ohtho, larmossani illidra polstenta," Daso chanted, the blue glow of the crystal suddenly taking on a crimson hue.

"Are golems bad?" Zed asked as the horde neared the invisible barrier.

"Well, when just created out of the blue like these ones, they're not really either good or bad, just mindless and following whatever orders are given to them by the one that created them. But then there are those that come into being in nature. Those ones are autonomous, and develop their own personalities over time, and even senses of morality. Then that depends on the individual golem. In our case, however, these golems do pose a very significant threat." After Daso finished his explanation, he snapped his fingers.

From where they had been hovering above the ground, all of the floating and clicking pyramids Daso had been working on earlier zipped right up to where he was standing, all levitating motionlessly in a perfect circle around him. Daso started to make symbols with his hands in front of each one individually, tapping each one on its tip, and sending it back to where it had been waiting before. By the time he had sent the last one and it was back in place, the golems had reached the barrier.

The last wispy shreds of the fog receded, and Daso could barely make out, during a flash of lightning, a lone, diminutive figure on a hillock just in front of the woods. His hands were glowing a bright green, and he directed his creations. Daso watched the dwarf, and then watched the golems, whose movements seemed to be in perfect sync--not that they were graceful, but that they all made the same missteps at the same time.

Is he actually controlling all twelve at once? Daso wondered as he watched a golem step on, and subsequently crush, one of the human highwaymen. They were all taking their places around the area where the barrier stood. Soon they were all in position, with the bandits crowding behind each one. The elves were all in position, some knocking back arrows, others taking aim with their rifles, all awaiting their orders from their commander. General Hectalo had his own rifle aimed and at the ready near the entrance of the fort.

In clumsy unison, the golems all raised a single fist, which had flared with a green light for each one, and as one they slammed it onto the barrier. There was a blinding red flash, and then, nothing. One of the Bloody Hatchets, an orc, bravely stepped forward... and was not repelled in any way. He let out a laugh, and soon they were all charging, including the golems.

"FIRE!" the general called out, and soon rifles were going off, and arrows were let loose. Some of the highwaymen fell, but most seemed to have barriers of their own that seemed to make the bullets and arrows bounce away from them harmlessly. Daso activated his gas trap, but when he did, the marching golems all sprouted bright yellow flowers along their bodies, which seemed to release a glowing blue gas, blanketing all of the Bloody Hatchets, who seemed to be unfazed by Daso's trap. Daso watched this... and smiled.

 

Back in Pharanx...

 

"You're sure it was him?" Tietro frantically asked the human guard who had been assigned to gate duty earlier that day, while holding up a photo of Arono. Tietro had been finalizing some forms for several upcoming court dates when he overheard the man laughing and talking about an elf who had tried to cut in line while riding a donkey that he had insisted was his faithful steed.

"Oh yeah, that's him. Said something about how a quest for true love granted him clemency in regards to the line. So we sent him to the back of the line... three times." The guard, Huskar, was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Did he say where he was going?" Tietro asked, feeling a chill run down his spine.

"Yeah, he practically screamed it as he waited in line. Said he was heading out to some old fort. I tried to tell him that the place was too dangerous, but he wouldn't listen," Huskar said.

"An acquaintance of both of ours is there with a group of mercenaries who've taken the fort, to oversee the repairs and installation of its defenses. But the surrounding area has just got to be crawling with those damned Bloody Hatchets! Arono, you fool!" Tietro said as he turned to head out of the precinct.

"Woah, wait a minute!" The elf was stopped in his tracks by Huskar, who was now standing over near the board that was exclusively for Wanted posters, including faces and descriptions of the outlaws. He grabbed a single sheet off the board and brought it over to Tietro.

"Yeah, the Bloody Hatchets can be pretty dangerous, but word is that this outlaw from the Eastern Confederacy made his way here and has joined their ranks," Huskar said as Tietro looked at the wanted poster, which showed a black and white image of a dwarf. "He's supposed to be some kind of rogue warlock, a really powerful one at that. And he's considered a top priority arrest."

Tietro looked gravely at the picture before him, reading the name Dutaro J'fassel, as well as his list of crimes, and the large print red runes that classified him as being Extremely Dangerous.

"That explains the 140,000 shelt reward for his capture," Tietro said aloud, softly. He then thanked the human guard before turning on his heels. The chill that had crept along his spine at the thought of his foolish cousin potentially landing himself in the middle of a conflict involving highwaymen had returned in force. Now he was worried for both Arono and Daso. His only thoughts, as he retrieved his mechanical horse, Sophino, were on getting to the fort as soon as possible, before it was too late. He rode the polished steel steed toward the gate, using his badge to cut to the head of the line, before pushing Sophino onward with an all-out gallop, easily exceeding the speed of a normal horse.

Please, Lacima, I pray unto you that I am not too late, Tietro offered up to the elven goddess of protection and justice.

 

Back at the Fort...

 

The golems and the bandits had made it to the walls of the fort. They had tried to plant explosives, but found, much to their surprise and dismay, that the devices they tried to attach all fizzled, their circuitry fried. The golems tried to use their roots to dig into the walls, but the leafy appendages of the golems that made contact with the wall all started to wither and die. With a flick of his wrist, the dwarven sorcerer made the rotted appendages sever themselves from the rest of his golems' bodies, in order to stop its spread.

"It would seem that your extra added defense has come in quite handy," Zed mused as he watched the events below unfold. The elven mercenaries continued to fire upon the attackers, but still to little avail.

"It would seem so," Daso said, looking at the bandits and golems seriously. With no warning whatsoever, Daso hurled his crystal battleaxe at the nearest golem. It was not stopped by any barrier whatsoever, and the blade buried itself within the tree stump that was the golem's head. It staggered back from the force of the blow, before taking a step forward... just as a pink flame began to quickly spread itself, originating where the axe was buried.

With a whistle, the axe dislodged itself and sailed back into Daso's outstretched hand, handle first. Daso watched as the golem was engulfed in the pink flames, which the rain whipping down didn't seem to have any effect on at all, before finally, all parts that were made of organic components were reduced to glowing orange ash, while the stone portions simply tumbled to the ground, ignoring the barriers of a few of the Bloody Hatchets, crushing some and injuring others.

"It would also seem that their personal barriers have their own limitations," Daso mused while setting his axe down. Daso snapped his fingers, and the hovering pyramids, which the bandits seemed to have overlooked, all started glowing with an orange light. Several Bloody Hatchets approached one of them, just before the front gate of the fort. There was a loud pop and a puff of smoke... and soon there were shrieks of terror.

The ones nearest the pyramid were now trying to untangle themselves from the many black and oily tentacles of a pitch-black horror, the size of a large horse. In the center of the thing's body was a single eye, with an hourglass-shaped pupil, and a glowing red iris. The five bandits tried to hack and slash at the tentacles, but their blades simply slipped harmlessly on the slick appendages. The tentacles in question seemed to have no trouble with the barriers whatsoever. There were more pops, followed by more screams.

The elven mercenaries watched, some clearly nauseous at the sight unfolding before them. All outside the walls was pandemonium, as the Bloody Hatchets and their golems tried to battle the writhing horrors, all failing. One golem had all of its remaining limbs ripped from its body as one of the creatures swarmed over it, before moving on to the nearest potential prey. Daso hurled his axe at two more golems, making them burst into pink flame.

"KEEP FIRING!" General Hectalo shouted, his order rousing his stunned soldiers, who all resumed their efforts. Only now they were finding their shots were actually hitting their marks, the tentacled monsters below seeming to have a nullifying effect on the mob's shields.

"Kiji, what are those things?" Zed asked, unable to take his eyes off the nearest one, which was scuttling forward, dragging a screaming bandit underneath its body. The bandit's screams were almost instantly silenced, and the creature moved on, leaving no trace of the bandit aside from his discarded sword.

"The offspring of The Grimmora," Daso said, hurling his axe again, striking true in the chest of the golem he was aiming for, recalling the axe back to his hands as the golem burned.

"The Grimmora? You mean the monster of legend that supposedly lurks in the canyon beneath the city of Pelusoka?" Zed asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yup. Only it's not a legend. It's got several legends surrounding it, but the creature is real enough. It's a fascinating study, actually. Nowhere else in the world is there another one," Daso explained, pulling out his crescent shaped flask and taking a swig.

"Aside from the ones let loose here," Zed said, suddenly looking fearful.

"Oh, don't worry about them," Daso said, offering the flask again, which Zed politely refused, "they'll all die before sunup."

Zed watched as the bandits, many of whom were now trying to run, were almost all being overtaken by the Grimmora's offspring. "I don't think we can rely on the bandits for that, nor do I think that Hectalo's men's weapons will be much more effective."

"Yeah, that's not what I meant," Daso said, taking up a spot next to the kymanian looking out over the crenelation, "they actually can't survive for very long in this atmosphere. The canyon where the Grimmora resides has some moss that grows at a certain depth that releases a mixture of gasses that allow for it and its offspring, which it eats, to safely breathe. But here, the surface level gasses are a mixture that is deadly to them. Already the gasses in this atmosphere are starting to take their toll, see?"

Zed looked where Daso pointed, and watched as the first creature seemed to be moving much more sluggishly, slowly pulling more bandits underneath itself. A white film was starting to develop over its body, giving it an ashen grey look. Suddenly, it shuddered, and then collapsed, all movement ceasing. The white film spread rapidly, solidifying into a hard stone-like substance. The other creatures were all undergoing a similar change. The Bloody Hatchets, the few that were still left alive, took their opportunity to escape. There were little more than a dozen left, and none of the golems remained intact.

At that exact moment, the clouds of the raging storm parted, and the two corven wyrms became visible. While poets and writers have romanticized the wyrms that mate in the heart of storms as being elegant, the reality was far different. Their bodies were serpentine, yes, but they had no scales. They had pale white membranous flesh with bright yellow veins running across. Their heads were just a swarm of scaly white tendrils. Electricity danced between the two, who both let out a roar, and then their massive bodies collided, making a sickeningly wet sound that was heard over the storm.

Thinking that this was some other horror summoned by what they figured must clearly be a witch, the remnants of the Bloody Hatchets all scattered, instead of heading back towards the forest, apparently having had enough. The dwarf sorcerer remained, and stared balefully at the fort, specifically at the young lady who seemed to be responsible for him and his guild not taking it back. He spat on the ground, and turned to head back into the woods. The clouds returned and obscured the creatures above.

 

Elsewhere...

 

"Honestly, Popalo, I have no idea how you could have possibly gotten us this lost," Arono said as he tugged on the donkey's reins, trying to get his steed to move. They were currently standing in a field, the path having ended after coming to a small and rustic farm... which Arono had at first thought was the fort. After being shot at by the farmer, a very irate elf, Arono came to the conclusion that they had yet to reach their destination. Presently, they were now in a bog, with Popalo refusing to take another step.

"Come now, Popalo, we must make haste!" Arono tried tugging on the reins again, the donkey not moving an inch.

"Surely you must be jesting, Popalo," Arono said as he continued to try and pull the donkey forward. He had already learned his lesson about getting behind Popalo and trying to push him forward. Popalo's back right hoof imprint was still very visible on Arono's forehead.

"Popalo, we cannot just sit here and rest! The fair maiden is in dire need of our rescue!" Popalo stood there and just started to bray.

"Popalo, you are truly a stubborn ass!" Arono said, before trying once more to tug on the reins. His hands slipped and, losing his balance, the elf fell face first into the boggy muck, which Popalo chose that moment to bray some more. While Arono struggled to get back to his feet, slipping and falling back down into the mud several times, he failed to notice the snake slithering towards him. It had brown scales with soft glowing blue runic symbols trailing down its back.

 

 

 

 

 

I hope that you enjoyed the new chapter! I certainly had fun writing! Thanks again for taking the time to read my stories!