Long Lost Relics
By Andrew Warwick

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This file is free to be distributed, but can not be changed, reproduced or sold in any form, and all content is Copyright © 2009 by Andrew Warwick.

This story is part of the Pure Escapism collection, further stories, as well as regular updates, of which can be found at 

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The bundle of twigs danced just above the ground, caught in a web of eldritch energies, spinning and twirling about.  The forces that twisted them caused a number to shatter into a shower of splinters, yet still they hang suspended.
Crouching over the twigs, one hand grasping a gnarled staff festooned with feathers and bits of bone and the other hand weaving the powers that held the twigs, was a grim looking orc, clad in rough furs.  Fetishes and totems of bones and teeth and wood bound together with bits of vine and cord adorned his furs.
Dark eyes stared at the twigs, looking out from a scar marked face.  His hand closed and the energies dissipated, the twigs falling to the ground.  For a moment he crouched, studying them, hand hovering above the twigs, before he gave a grunt and straightened up.
"It is here," he announced in a rough voice.  "And more."
"What is it Rutrag?" a deep voice inquired, emanating from behind the orc.
"I smell demon," Rutrag replied.  Turning, he walked back to join the others.  A stout dwarf warrior in heavy armour stood flanked by two giant figures. They were Talsharan, the Seekers.  The Twice-Fallen.  Their heads were blackened and cracked as if burnt, hairless and with eyes that glowed like molten iron.  They were encased in heavy armour, warped and twisted as if having been subjected to a great heat, blackened by soot and with fiery sigils tracing patterns across the surface, ever moving and shifting.  A haze of heat seemed to hang in the air around them and fiery tendrils spread forth from their backs, spread out like ephemeral wings of fire.
"Demons," spat the first of the Talsharan, the sigils that danced across his armour and the fiery shroud of his wings flaring as he spoke.  Rutrag grinned savagely.
"Yuh, demons.  I have a few tricks in store for them."  The second of the Talsharan, this one bearing a giant mace of black-steel sheathed in dark flames, stepped forward.
"Patience, brother," he said, addressing the other Talsharan.  "We shall deal with them in time."
"I know, Veqtos, I know, but my blood burns for vengeance.  Our duty is clear though.  We are here for the relic, and not for vengeance."  Veqtos rested an ironclad fist on his companion's shoulder and what seemed almost like a smile crossed his burnt and blackened visage.
"Perhaps we can have both, Shalor."

Ruins were scattered about the forest clearing, around the entrance to the cavern they sought.  Broken pillars and fallen walls that had once stood tall and proud were now overgrown and wrapped in clinging vines and moss.  At some stage a statue of white stone had stood in the centre of the clearing, but all that now remained were a pair of legs broken off below the knees.
The hunched orc Rutrag held up a gnarled hand as they entered the clearing, looking around suspiciously, seeming to sniff at the air.
"The demons are close," he announced quietly.  "Prepare yourselves."  Behind him the Talsharan Veqtos began a low chant, calling on the Martyred Prophetess to lend strength to his companions, while the dwarf Khagi took up position before him, raising shield and axe to defend his giant charge.
Shalor strode to the fore, drawing a pair of large swords as he did, one in each hand, magic dancing along their edges, while the engraved runes upon them glowed with an inner fire.  Rutrag voiced a few words of power.  Alongside him the ground erupted in a shower of earth and flames as a giant dog, its hide black as the deepest night and eyes glowing red, dug its way up and out.  It bounded over to the orc, tongue lolling.  Rutrag gave the dog a pat on the head, leaning on his staff and waiting for the foe to arrive.

Dozens of demons boiled forth from the cavern, a terrifying host of fanged beasts, dripping ichor, howling and gibbering.  One there was amongst them who stood as tall as the Talsharan, towering over his lesser kin.  An aura of malignancy seemed to radiate out from him, an evil that washed over them and sapped the strength and confidence from their limbs.
Veqtos snapped out another chant, in opposition to the fear, and they felt the power of the Martyred Prophetess flow through them, breaking the hold the demon's aura had over them.
The giant demon, fanged and horned, spoke, voice a rasping hiss.  "So, the twice-cursed come, and with them some of their pets.  The precious bones you seek lie within, but it matters little, not to you.  Your souls will soon be ours for eternal torment, just as the soul of your so-called Prophetess is."
"The Prophetess is beyond your reach, demon, bones or no bones," Veqtos intoned, words deep and powerful.  "Your presence will no longer defile them though."  The demon hissed and spat, gesturing for his kin to attack, and they spilt forward, a host of gibbering creatures streaming at the four companions.

Shalor let out a bellowed warcry, even as Rutrag's hound howled, and he leapt forward.  The fiery tendrils of his wings snapped forward as he seemed to glide across the glade, descending amongst the horde.  The tendrils lashed out, enveloping two of the demons.  Flames seared at them as they screeched, trying in vain to break free of the fiery embrace that gripped them.  Shalor's swords, each the size of one of the demons attacking him, slashed downwards, ripping apart a demon with each blow, spraying black blood and ichor across the clearing.  Fangs and claws and swords slashed at him, ricocheting from the blackened armour that imprisoned him as some of the demons stood and fought, while others flowed past him to attack his three companions.
Khagi stood resolute at the oncoming rush, bracing himself for the impact.  Behind him, the Talsharan he protected, Veqtos, was chanting once more.  Rutrag levelled his staff pronouncing words of power.  With each word a bolt of dark energy leapt from his staff and sizzled through the air to strike down an incoming demon.  As each was hit they fell screeching to the ground, writhing as a web of dark energy enveloped them, drawing in tighter and tighter until at last the demon exploded, the force of the blast buffeting those nearby.  Then Rutrag's hound was amongst then, fangs and claws leaving wisps of fire trailing through the air in their wake as he tore into the demons, tossing them about like dolls.
They pressed on and threw themselves at Khagi, howling incoherently.  His axe hewed down into one, shield slamming into another, sending it reeling away senseless.  A blow stabbed at Veqtos, but Khagi stepped into it, turning it away with his heavy armour.  Again and again they lunged at Veqtos, but each time Khagi was there to beat the blow aside and hew down at the attacker.
Veqtos snapped out the last words of his chant and a burst of holy energy erupted around him, rippling outwards.  As it washed over the demons they detonate in pillars of holy fire.
Shalor waded through the lesser demons, laughing as he hacked them down with his swords or incinerated them in the burning grasp of his wings.  A few had managed to inflict minor wounds on him as his unstoppable advance waded through them, but only a few.  And then he was through, standing before the snarling greater demon.  It cursed and rushed at him, bearing a sword of pure darkness.

The lesser demons quickly perished beneath the onslaught of the magic from Rutrag and Veqtos, from the axe of Khagi and the teeth of the hound.  The hound, a squirming demon held tightly in the grip of its terrible maw, trotted back to Rutrag.
"Good boy," Rutrag told the hound, resting a hand on the head of the captured demon.  He spoke words of power and dark forces formed around his hand.  The demon trashed at the touch of it, but could not break the hound's grip.  It shrivelled under Rutrag's touch, drained by his magic.  Then it was gone, only an empty husk remaining which the hound dropped, and in Rutrag's hand was a small globe of swirling blackness.  Rutrag gave a smile and stored the small globe in a pouch.  Scratching the hound's ears, he turned his attention back to the fight between Shalor and the greater demon.
Shalor's blades blurred as he sought to block the lightning blows from the demon's sword, all laughter ended.  Tendrils lashed at the demon, trying to whip it with flames, but the beast danced aside at each one and not a blow landed.  More than once the shadowy blade had darted past his defences, and with each touch he felt his strength seem to seep from him as a chill pierced his body.  In the background he could hear Veqtos' chants once more as he channelled the Prophetess' blessings into him, seeking to lend him aid in the fight.  It was enough to keep him alive and fighting, but he had underestimated the demon's prowess.  He would not be able to defeat it.  Once more the dark blade hit him, slashing across his legs and with it came the chill energy that drained him of strength.
Suddenly a howl erupted from behind the demon.  Rutrag's hound had snuck up behind it during the fight.  Momentarily caught off guard by the sound, the demon's guard dropped long enough for Shalor to sneak a blow through, gashing its shoulder.  The hound lunged for the back of the demon's leg.  Maw met the leg and it was the demon's turn to howl as the fangs dug in deep.  Chopping down at the hound with a double-handed blow, the blade ripped deep into the hound, causing it to crumple, though the vice-like gripped never wavered.
Shalor yelled as he stepped in, both blades driving forward as the demon sought to disengage itself from the hound's grip.  The demon's blade battered away one sword, but the second struck clean, driving deep into its throat.  The blade blazed with magic and Shalor wrenched it clear in a spray of dark blood.  The demon gurgled and thrashed as fire cascaded across it before it crashed to the ground to be consumed by flames.

Rutrag hobbled over to the hound where it lay on the ground, whining piteously, its side covered with blood.  Kneeling beside it, Rutrag removed the dark orb from the pouch, holding it out to the hound.  The hound managed to raise its head slightly, tongue licking at the globe for a moment before it wolfed it down.  As his head sunk to the ground again, the vicious wound on its flank began to slowly knit and repair.  Shalor limped across to Veqtos, who was already chanting words of healing for him.
"Nasty beast," Veqtos commented, laying a hand on Shalor.  Shalor grinned wryly.
"I've seen worse.  Thought the dog was in trouble for a moment there."
"He will mend, so he will," Rutrag told him.  "The way is clear now.  Let us see to these bones."

The interior of the cavern was strewn with refuse and debris, the remnants of previous explorers and heroes.  A foul stench permeated the interior, seeping into everything.
One part of the cavern lay clean though, surrounding a small chest that sat upon a rock.  Some type of light seemed to radiate out from it, and around it lay the charred remains of a number of the demons, obviously held at bay by its power.
Veqtos marched without hesitation into the light, and with reverential movements took hold of the chest.
"The Prophetess' Hands," he announced quietly.  The chest was slowly opened and inside there lay a pair of skeletal hands, resting on a sheet of bloodstained white cloth.  "Too long have they been lost to our people, but no more.  We shall return them and her blessings will be upon us."
"We can expect the demons to try and stop us on the way back," Shalor noted, and his voice was eagre for the possibility as he spoke.
"Should be fun," Rutrag replied with a cackled laugh, his hound snuffling amongst the refuse of the cavern.  Shalor's laugh was loud, echoing in the tight confines.
"Let us hope so," he said as they departed the cavern to start the long journey home.

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