Fortress Al-Mir

The moment Master Inquisitor Darius Vrox placed his weight on his forward foot, the scorched tiles cracked and broke. He didn’t have time to think about the sound before the sudden feeling of tingling hit his stomach as he fell.

It wasn’t a far fall. In the interest of haste, Arkk hadn’t built the pit too deep. The ceiling was low enough that if the tallest of the orcs were just a little taller, their heads would have scraped the ceiling. A small tunnel connected it to one of the more intact rooms of the false fortress, granting him territorial control—he would be able to move his minions about the battlefield in an instant unless that was destroyed—but it was still less than an ideal place to fight.

Vrox landed hard, hitting the ground hip first.

Arkk focused on Vrox’s fist, hoping that the impact had made the inquisitor lose his hold on the marble. If he had dropped it, Arkk could have teleported in, grabbed it himself, and teleported everyone out. Vrox’s fist was closed tight.

Arkk shot a nod at Dakka.

Vrox’s landing didn’t elicit even the slightest cry of pain. Instead, he rolled to one side immediately and without hesitation, as if expecting Dakka’s axe. The inquisitor brought up his legs, avoiding a pinning shot from both Olatt’an and Ilya, and then kicked out, slamming both feet into Farr’an’s shins. As the tall orc staggered, Vrox pushed off the ground and stood upright.

“Electro Deus,” Arkk intoned. Vezta moved aside along with his words, granting him a clear shot. He thrust out his hand just as another form fell from above.

The bolt of blue-white electricity shot out from Arkk’s fingers and slammed into a golden barrier just ahead of Inquisitor Vrox. The bolt glanced off, instead sending Kazz’ak into a shuddering heap on the ground.

With an aside thought, Arkk pulled Kazz’ak out and dropped him off next to Larry. It hadn’t been a powerful bolt of lightning, thankfully. Just one intended to put the inquisitor down long enough for him to lose his grip on the marble. Hopefully, the orc would be alright but Arkk didn’t have time to concern himself with the injury at the moment. He focused on the new arrival.

The shorter, rounder form of the inquisitor’s chronicler stood from his partial crouch. He must have jumped into the pit. The man held one hand around the golden chain around his neck and the other out in front of him. The tips of his fingers were glowing in the same golden light as the barrier that had appeared, leaving little doubt as to where it came from. He shifted his hand, angling the hexagonal barrier to intercept one of Ilya’s arrows.

“Impeccable timing, Chronicler,” Vrox said, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder before stooping to retrieve a pair of thin-framed round glasses that had fallen onto the floor. Giving a puff of breath on each lens, he donned them, frowning when he realized that the frame had bent. As he adjusted it, he peered up at the hole in the ceiling. “Will the purifier be along after you?”

“I don’t believe she noticed our disappearance.”

“Probably for the best. I would rather not be trapped in a confined space with that thing.”

Arkk tensed, unease running down his spine at how casually the inquisitors were handling the situation. The orcs were trying to attack. Greesom simply shifted, pivoting with each attack to move that golden barrier in the way. It must not have weighed anything at all because, despite being large enough to cover both of them, he swung it around fast enough to block two arrows coming almost at the same time from opposite directions. All without apparent concern.

Just in case, he sent a mental command to the lesser servants to collapse the corridor behind the purifier. He barely had a plan to deal with these two. Adding that fire witch to the mix wouldn’t help.

“Well, Mister Arkk, I expected you to pull something devious. I must admit, I am disappointed… Is that a gorgon?”

“The Light protects,” Greesom said, squinting over Arkk’s shoulder. Neither even bothered trying to close their eyes.

Arkk licked his lips, tightening his grip around his only dagger. So much for Khan jumping in with his petrifying gaze to help them. The others would do what they could. Arkk had to focus on what he could do. With that shield able to reflect his attacks, he wasn’t willing to fry his own minions with lightning.

But this was his territory.

“Vezta,” he whispered, “try to get the marble from Vrox.”

“Master…”

Arkk didn’t wait for her protests. Teleporting, Arkk reappeared directly behind Chronicler Greesom. The short man was already turning. He had been turning before Arkk appeared. The golden shield intercepted Arkk’s dagger, stopping it cold. Before Arkk could react, the barrier vanished. Greesom stepped forward, hand now clenched into a fist. Ducking under a swing of Dakka’s axe from behind, his fist started glowing as he struck out a punch.

Arkk teleported himself and Dakka in an instant, shifting her position just a step to the side. Greesom’s fist struck Dakka’s spiked shield, buckling the metal. Better than striking her chest. At the same time, Arkk snapped a hand out.

Vrox grabbed hold of Arkk’s wrist before he could grab Greesom’s necklace. Arkk tried to teleport away again only for his eyes to widen as it felt like he slammed into a brick wall. His eyes snapped to Vrox’s hand around his wrist, instinctively knowing that the inquisitor’s hold over him was what stopped the teleport.

“Mister Arkk—”

A warcry from Rekk’ar cut the inquisitor off. He quickly released Arkk to avoid getting his hand cut off as well.

Arkk swapped himself with Dakka, right as the woman was in the middle of swinging her axe. It should have caught Greesom right in the back of his head but, again, the chronicler was already moving, bringing his hand over his shoulder to form the golden barrier behind his back.

Dark tendrils shot out from behind Rekk’ar, worming around him and lassoing Inquisitor Vrox.

That got the man to cry out. Vezta twisted the wrist of his arm, forcing his fist to open. The ice-like marble rolled off his fingertips.

Greesom pivoted again, swinging his golden shield around in a flash. The edge hit Vezta’s tendrils, slicing straight through them with no resistance. A blood-curdling scream echoed in the chamber, resonating with the high-pitched ping of the marble bouncing off the floor.

A sheet of ice spread out from the marble in a flash, freezing Arkk’s boots to the ground along with those of everyone else caught nearby. A harmonious ping sounded again as a second sheet of ice covered up the first, locking Arkk into place up to his ankles.

Before the marble could strike down against the ground a third time, Ilya came dashing forward, throwing herself into a dive before she slid across the ice with one arm extended. As soon as the marble hit her palm and her fingers closed around it—without turning her arm into a block of ice—Arkk teleported her back to the fortress proper.

He tried to teleport everyone else as well. Several failed.

Arkk couldn’t teleport himself. He couldn’t teleport Dakka, Rekk’ar, or Orjja. Vezta, free tendrils thrashing wildly while the rest of her was locked in ice, was similarly stuck in place. The ice was keeping them captive.

Dakka and Greesom barely seemed to notice. With Greesom’s shield out of place from helping Vrox escape Vezta, she had a clear attack against his side. He had to let go of his necklace for the first time since dropping down the hole. Using his forearm, he managed to bat the haft of Dakka’s axe aside enough for it to miss him. A second movement of his hand forced Dakka off balance, tugging her forward to the point where, locked in place, she couldn’t stop herself from falling. His deflection didn’t come without cost. Arkk heard the sound of bone breaking in his wrist from the initial strike.

Rekk’ar, wielding his halberd, didn’t stop his attack against Vrox either. With Vrox’s legs locked into position, he couldn’t even dodge properly. He did bend out of the way but the halberd’s blade still sliced through his thigh, spilling blood across the sheet of ice. Gritting his teeth in apparent pain, the inquisitor pulled a small ring with a square white stone set in the middle.

Arkk didn’t sit idle as the others moved, though he didn’t contribute directly to the fight. Ripping all the lesser servants through space, he ordered them to eat through the ice around him and his minions. Compared to solid stone, they ate through the ice in an instant. Before the inquisitors could try counterattacking, all of Company Al-Mir were free.

Teleporting everyone to the fortress, Arkk alone stayed behind. He did teleport far away from the inquisitors. Maybe it was foolish, but he still wanted to salvage at least part of his original plan. If possible.

Vrox clapped his hands together, muttered something under his breath that couldn’t have been more than a few words, and then planted his hands down on the ground. The remaining ice locking his feet to the ground erupted into a cloud of steam that rapidly dispersed. As soon as he finished, the inquisitor looked up with no lingering amusement in his eyes. “You fool. That thing will burn everything!”

Arkk frowned, thinking back to his last meeting with the inquisitor. “You control her like you thought I controlled Vezta,” he said slowly, realization dawning. Servant or not, Arkk didn’t control her. But Vrox thought the church could have some Purifier Vezta, or whatever. “I’m not you. Controlling—”

“We must stop Agnete,” Vrox shouted. “Whatever our issues, I know you, Mister Arkk. You defend the people. You must bring the Binding Agent back or that thing will destroy everything around here. You don’t want that.”

“Good that the only thing nearby is a desolate wasteland. Except this fortress. Shame about that, I rather liked this place—”

“Agnete won’t stop at the borders of the Cursed Forest. Your home village, Mister Arkk, is in danger.”

Arkk drummed his fingers against his thigh for a moment before shaking his head. “I’ll handle it on my own. You are too dangerous. Hunting me down like this? I haven’t hurt anyone. Now I’ve got to find somewhere new to live,” he said with the most convincing sigh he could manage, hoping he wasn’t laying it on too thick. “Good luck escaping, Inquisitor. Maybe I’ll let your mercenaries know you need a rope thrown down here.”

“Arkk!”

Teleporting away, Arkk didn’t stick around to listen. Vrox was lying. Or exaggerating. He had to be. Saying that the village was in danger was a ploy to get that marble back. The purifier might be a danger to it but as long as that marble could stop her, he could stop her.

And if it turned out he couldn’t use that marble… Well, it wasn’t like the inquisitors were going anywhere anytime soon. He knew where to find them.

Arkk reappeared in the meeting room and slowly looked over the situation.

He hadn’t kept track of everything that had gone on during that fight. There had been a lot of orcs that had all tried to get their hits in that he had simply glazed over. More than a few were injured. He wasn’t quite sure how. Dakka had a heavy gash from her shoulder to her breast which was bleeding profusely. Her armor, lying on the floor, wasn’t damaged at all. Orjja, Zojja, Klepp’at, and Hakk’ar were injured as well. It wasn’t until Arkk looked over at Olatt’an that a few pieces clicked into place. Olatt’an was nursing several wounds which looked like he had been hit by crossbow bolts.

That golden barrier had reflected his lightning spell at Kazz’ak… but it had reflected more than just magic.

Khan was the prime example. Arkk could feel through the link that the gorgon was still alive but Khan was just a stone statue of a snake at the moment. Hopefully one of the other gorgon could turn him back.

Arkk’s eyes widened upon spotting Ilya. Doubled over, clutching her stomach, she managed to force a smile as she held up the small icy marble. “Feels like I’ve been holding my hand in a bucket of snow for ten minutes,” she said, holding it out for Arkk.

Arkk brushed her hand aside, carefully peeling back the arm pressed to her stomach. “Never mind that,” he said, grinding his teeth at the gash in her side. It looked like she had been struck by an arrow, minus the arrow. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. I was aiming to be debilitating not lethal, as you suggested. I think that affected the severity of our wounds.” Her silver eyes roamed around the room before settling on Dakka. “Didn’t even realize what was happening until my third arrow. Not sure if the orcs realized and attacked anyway or if they just didn’t notice at all.”

Arkk pressed his lips together, looking at Dakka. Normally sporting tan-brown skin, she was looking more of a pasty gray at the moment. Her wounds were by far the worst in the room, having been up in combat far more than any other orc.

“Just sit still for a moment,” Arkk said, quickly intoning the spell for Flesh Weaving. It wasn’t a spell meant for deep or complicated wounds. Or, rather, Arkk had no practice healing deep wounds. Thankfully, Ilya’s arrow punctures were straight and simple that didn’t go as deep as they looked. They still took several minutes to mend with his spell. He didn’t have time to heal everyone while that flame witch was rampaging through the false fortress.

A thought popped into Arkk’s mind. Vezta wasn’t here. She should have been helping treat these injuries. A quick look through the link made him grimace. It was little wonder why she wasn’t present, looking like that. Vezta didn’t strike him as the vainest of people but she had a very specific countenance that she presented to others.

Arkk almost teleported away to speak with her before looking over Khan once again. An idea popped into his mind.

“Zharja,” Arkk said, noticing the illuminating red glow that gleamed off the gorgon’s iridescent scales as he teleported her into the room. “Does petrification cause any harm or lasting problems?”

Zharja blinked and looked around the chaotic room in confusion before her eyes settled back on Arkk. “No? You ssaw thosse at the mine.”

“Can you petrify those with the worst wounds temporarily?” That would give them a chance to render aid slowly on a more individual note. And give him a chance to talk to Vezta.

The black-scaled snake stared with her slit-pupiled black eyes for a long moment. Arkk, though a little nervous about suddenly being petrified himself, didn’t break his eye contact. Eventually, Zharja’s tongue shot out and she nodded her head.

“Wait, what—” Dakka started only to freeze in position, now a solid marble statue of herself. Five others followed, including Rekk’ar. Arkk hoped he wouldn’t catch too much anger from the orc later on.

For now, Arkk forced a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll be back shortly with aid.”

“Arkk!” Ilya snapped before he could teleport away. “If you disappear before taking this damn ball of ice off my hands, my fingers are going to turn black and blue.”

“You could have set it down,” Arkk said, accepting the small marble. As soon as it touched his palm, he grimaced. As far as texture was concerned, it felt like glass. The chill, however, swept through him with a fury.

“And risk sending a sheet of ice over everyone here? I saw what happened in the fight. Just glad my hand isn’t a block of ice.”

“Point,” Arkk said as he quickly slipped it into his pocket. The cold didn’t vanish entirely. It felt like he walked outside on a chill winter’s day. It was still better than holding it directly. “Good job. Catching that was good work. Thank you,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” She shoved him away, waving a hand. “Go get people help.”

Arkk didn’t argue, quickly teleporting to the temple. Vezta, noticing his appearance immediately, retreated to the shadows of one of the corners.

“Vezta,” Arkk called out, voice soft.

“Master,” a voice called from the shadows. It was different than normal. Corrupted and reverberating off the surface of the temple’s large pool of silvery water. “[Forgiveness]/[apology in advance]. [Request]|[avoidance]/[go away]|[query]?”

“Vezta, are you alright?”

“[Wounds]/[injury]|[sufficient]|[damage sustained]|[problematic]/[issue]. [Healing factor]/[regeneration]|[failure]. [Cause]/[source]|[PANTHEON]|[traitors].”

“That light shield thing was one of the traitor’s magics? And it’s interfering with your healing?” Arkk asked, nausea rising in the pit of his stomach. He stepped forward. “Are you okay?”

“[Fine]/[dandy]! [Request]|[avoidance]/[go away].”

Arkk took another step forward. “Vezta. I can see everywhere in the fortress and all my minions. I saw what you looked like now. It’s okay. I’m worried about you. Not about what you look like.”

Vezta didn’t respond. The shadows in the corner of the room moved in an unsettling, hostile manner that reminded Arkk of the very first time he laid eyes on Vezta. Several of her burning sun-like eyes peered out at him. He didn’t break eye contact, nor did he back away. He simply offered her his most reassuring smile.

Slowly, Vezta stepped out of the shadows. Except she didn’t look like the Vezta he was used to. Vezta’s body normally looked humanoid. A violet-skinned maiden wearing a long dress and white apron. She kept herself poised no matter the situation. There were signs she wasn’t human—apart from the obvious eyes or occasional tendril. Her body wasn’t fully… set in place. It was more like a congealed mass of slime forcing itself into a humanoid shape.

That humanoid shape wasn’t anywhere to be seen. An amorphous, bubbling mass of boiling flesh covered in gnashing mouths and exploding eyes squirmed across the floor. Thick tendrils, some leaking viscous black ooze, pulled her along. She stopped almost nervously in front of Arkk.

“You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” Arkk said.

“[Witness]/[observation]|[Lesser Servant]|[revulsion]/[disgust]/[gross].”

“True. Initially. I’ve gotten used to them. Most of all, however, they aren’t you. I am worried about you, Vezta.” Arkk paused a moment then asked, “Are you going to be alright? Is there anything I can do?”

“[Time]|[magic]|[required]/[desired]. [HEART]|[provides]/[gives]. [MASTER]|[provides]/[gives].”

Arkk took several steps forward until he was right up next to Vezta. Sitting down and putting his back to the statue of Xel’atriss, Lock and Key, he held up one of his hands. He hoped it didn’t look too disingenuous—his pose wouldn’t have looked out of place if he was trying to entice a puppy over to sit on his lap—but Vezta’s large form settled down. The sharp teeth of her mouths moved away, leaving a mostly clear section of her oily skin to rest his arm on while she… rested her head in his lap. Maybe? She didn’t exactly have a head but that was the impression he got.

“I’ll try pushing some magic into you. If you think that will help.”

Vezta didn’t verbally respond. She didn’t pull away either. So he started, closing his eyes and acting like her body was a ritual circle. Nervous about accidentally making her explode, he started lightly, just barely touching her with his magic. Slowly, he ramped up, pushing more and more into her.

Rather than explode, she seemed to deflate under his arm. Still, she didn’t complain. He continued for a long few minutes until he started to feel less bulbous mass and more thin tendrils of hair-like strands of oil.

He opened his eyes and found Vezta, looking far more human, resting her head against his thigh. Vezta’s eyes were closed as well. All of them, at least all those he could see. They stayed still for another minute before one of the eyes on her shoulder popped open.

Stiffening, Vezta slipped out from under his hand and to a standing position in a motion no human would have been able to manage. She pulled her arms behind her back and bowed. “I apologize for my—”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Arkk said. “Although if you want to make it up to me, several… Vezta. One of your arms is missing.”

Vezta tilted her head aside, glancing down at her right arm. “So it is. Unfortunate. I can still perform my duties, I assure you.”

“Should I try pushing more magic into you?”

“I do not believe it would help. Thank you for your assistance,” she said with another bow. “Do not worry. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Master, you were telling me how I could make up this generous donation of your magic.”

Arkk pressed his lips together. “We’re going to talk about this later,” he said, tone leaving no room for argument. “But this is important. Are you in a position to help heal others or do I need to kidnap Abbess Keena?”

“I can assist.”

“Good. Ilya and several of the orcs were injured in the fight. I patched up Ilya with Flesh Weaving but there are others who could use your ministrations. The worst of the orcs have been petrified by one of the gorgon until we have time to help them.”

“Understood. If you would please transport me to the worst of them, I will get started immediately.”

Arkk wasn’t sure who had it the worst at the moment. Instead, he sent her to Ilya. They could figure out where to go from there.

He didn’t go back with her. Standing with a sigh, he placed a hand over his pocket, feeling the chill against his hip.

“Time to go confront a raging fire monster,” he said with a mild sigh.

Hopefully, this ice marble worked.