The four knights continued through the highly arched corridor. Clouds of steam began to permeate the hallway. Numerous trigonal openings lined the passage, from which the occasional orcne or goblin would emerge or disappear into. Continuing their ape-like gait, the warriors entered one. Rhythmic pounding was heard, growing louder as they went deeper. Teams of orcne ran about, grunting and sweating, shoving their way through, carrying tools or pulling large, metal carts. The tunnel eventually terminated inside a vast chamber of great metal spheres aligned in rows. Beads of water pimpled them, blistering away into steam.

Euric touched one of the spheres and quickly released his hand, placing a burnt finger to his mouth. Bartholomew pointed to the strange gauges that held arrows in positions of colored red. Euric studied them but shrugged helplessly. There were metal scaffolds high above and steely lanterns that glowed hotly from swaying chains. The pounding was tremendous and the walls vibrated with the noise. The floor itself gave way to an immense lower area of vast proportion. Grated walkways traversed the chasm, and as they stepped onto one of them, the knights gaped in awe at what lay below. Beneath was a massive workshop of evil. Huge cauldrons of liquid metal stirred, and enormous pits of fire burned high. Giant arbalests were carted on massive wheels. Storied juggernauts, massive catapults, and demonically carved battering rams stood side-by-side, all in various states of completion, as orcnes and goblins swarmed around them. The finished pieces were slowly dragged into a monolithic cavern mouth that led to parts unknown. Cool air could be felt wafting in from the opening.

“It is beyond belief. The weapons of Those That Stand in Shadow! Only they could construct such hellish devices,” Euric said.

“But where are they taking them?” Jesepha said.

“Lord Haraush had said the Dark One had come from our continent’s side, where none save orcnes and goblins reside. This is an island—do you feel the wind from that gaping hole? They must be sending the weapons to some waiting harbor or port area outside, to be shipped back to the continent,” Qualtan said.

“He is building up an army. With the Slth in one hand, and these forces in his other,” Bartholomew said.

“And the Mezzolankeans and the Sargossians in between,” said Jesepha.

“They by sea, and these other forces by land,” Qualtan said. “And that is not even considering where the other Dark One sits in all of this.”

A group of orcne appeared behind them, carrying tools and supplies, snarling at the obstruction in their path. The lead orcne, its face a fiery red splotched with brown, drew forth a whip, striking at the disguised knights. Quickly they moved on, feigning fear, as the orcne pushed them to the end of the bridgeway, stomping past them.

At the edge of the bridgeway, the knights lingered, still studying the scene before them.

“I see no humans, no elves, no other Kind save the goblins and the orcnes,” Jesepha said. “Where are they held?”

“Perhaps in the deeper cavern below, from whence the weapons are being transported? These walls would be easy to climb down…” Euric said, patting the deeply scarred walls. “Perhaps we can jump onto one of the bridges below and—”

“No,” Qualtan said, matter-of-factly. He did not wish to revisit his experience with the Slth. “We can find a better way.”

Additional orcne began to use the bridgeways, so they moved on. The corridor they now entered split into four additional ones. Groups of the Dark One’s servants jostled and fought amongst themselves to pass through. Waiting for their numbers to lessen, the knights stayed to the side of the wall, hoping none would come too close or attempt to gain their attention. The crowds eventually dispersed and the knights soon stood alone before the four doorways.

“It’s best we divide ourselves. We cannot risk all of us being captured at once, and this way, we may accomplish more,” Bartholomew said.

“Are you sure? To me that would reduce the fighting ability of our team,” Euric said.

“We are four against hundreds here. We look to sneak and spy, not charge and attack!” Jesepha said.

“Qualtan, you and I shall go separate ways. Our magical powers will help to balance out our strength. Euric, go with him. Jesepha will follow me,” Bartholomew said.

“But how will we escape from this place?” Euric asked. The knights looked at each other somberly.

“Oh. I see,” Euric said, nodding in sullen agreement.

“If we can but learn the fate of the slaves brought here, and ascertain more of the Dark One’s plans, we shall be done. There may be more we as yet do not know and should! Do not take unnecessary risks in this place!” Bartholomew added.

The knights placed hands on each other’s shoulders.

“Other supply ships come from the Sargossians to this place. We have a way to escape,” Bartholomew added. “If Lord Haraush’s words ring true, he will have ships patrolling for us. Now come. May the High Lord protect us all.”

As Bartholomew and Jesepha broke off from Qualtan and Euric, Jesepha took Euric’s hand in parting. “Protect yourselves,” she said.

Euric smiled, appreciating her concern. “As you shall, so shall we,” he said as she and Bartholomew disappeared into the darkness of one of the awaiting doorways.

Euric paused to watch them.

“Let us go. Do not fear for her,” Qualtan said softly.

Euric nodded, joining Qualtan into a separate corridor. He knew Jesepha could handle herself. Her sword arm was one of the deadliest he knew; in fact, she was his superior as well, although he would never admit that to her. Plus, all of them trusted Bartholomew with their lives. And yet, he could not shake the feeling that this would be the last time he would ever see her.

The corridor Qualtan and Euric had taken widened considerably. They ambled on, their ratty cloaks obscuring their bodies, their heads bent downwards. A vast dining hall took shape, with rows upon rows of tables and stools. The orcne stayed to one side of the hall, while the goblins took up the other. The stench was awful, coming from both the sweating creatures and the pots of boiling meat that were fought over. Food was wildly thrown about, and growls and howls echoed in the hall. Portions were spilt and fights broke out. Some lay unmoving; whether drunk or dead, the knights could not tell. Their bodies were silently pulled and yanked at by their opportunistic brethren, who tore away anything that seemed of value.

Qualtan was forced to smile, thinking on the raucous behavior of the Turinthian knights back home. How ironic that they seemed to differ little from the very servants of the Dark One they vied against. Keeping to the furthest parts of the walls, the two knights slowly moved past. They were nearly exposed when an onion headed orcne was hurled their way during yet another fight, crashing into them. The humanoid hollered, dusted itself off, and returned to the melee. Qualtan and Euric exited past, following a long corridor that curved upwards. They soon found themselves in a large chamber, with huge black stone statues of demonic beings, their eyes flaming holes with lit torches.

They paused, standing against one of the sculptures, giving their backs a much needed rest from their hunched posture, observing the tableau before them. Like some twisted congregation gathered for worship, orcnes and goblins prostrated themselves, moaning in undulating tones before a dark statue greater than the rest. Its hands became snaking tendrils that were carved into the walls on either side, continuing throughout the room. Its face was skeletal, but mocking, with a fearsome toothy smile. Its head was bizarre, a nest of crowded branches that extended into the ceiling. A lone being stood at the statue’s base, seemingly human. Wearing robes of black and red, the being uttered words in a foul language—the language of Those That Stand in Shadow.

“A priest of some sort,” Qualtan whispered.

Euric nodded as the ceremony continued. There was an altar and a figure upon it. Too far to see further detail, especially with the orcnes and goblins rising and then sitting, they edged closer. Qualtan and Euric grew horrified when the scene became clear. The figure was a man, but already dead. The priest held a dagger above his head and had raised and lowered it numerous times. Qualtan, immediately shocked by the scene, grew tense. Euric placed a hand on his shoulder, for both reassurance and warning. It was already too late to do anything, Qualtan thought angrily, as the priest chanted above the corpse, pointing to the statue behind him. The assemblage howled excitedly, reaching a crescendo of cries before fading away to a dull drone. The ritual apparently concluded, the evil creatures rose and slowly filtered back the way Qualtan and Euric had come. The priest stayed behind, reciting evil words to himself as he walked about the still form, retrieving small bowls that had been placed strategically around the body, filled with precious blood. He placed the bowls in recesses about the lower part of the massive statue the humanoids had been worshipping, chanting and bowing as he did.

Qualtan and Euric edged closer. Completing his task, the priest took the last bowl and began drinking the dark liquid it contained. He drank hungrily, slobbering over himself as his eyes rolled in pleasure. Enough was enough. Qualtan brought himself near the back of the priest until the priest suddenly stopped. He hissed, like some menacing viper.

“It is beyond belief you have come so far into the master’s lair unharmed,” the priest said without turning around.

Euric paused in surprise, but Qualtan continued forward.

“You dare to blaspheme this sanctuary to his power?” the priest said, still unwilling to face the knights.

“His evil is over, as is yours,” Qualtan said, removing his blade. “Deluded children. His shadow is never-ending. You have come

to be embraced by it.”

“Tell us where the slaves are hidden and where your corrupt lord lies, and you shall be spared.”

With a snarl the priest’s human visage changed. His lips rolled up obscenely high, revealing stake-like teeth. His facial skin seemed to stretch back, contorted into malicious evil. With a quick rotation, the priest brought forth sharp claws that extended far from his narrow fingers. He whirled and struck out, but Qualtan’s sword met the attack. Sparks flew from the impact. The priest fell back. Euric charged him. Before either knight could reach him, he raised another clawed talon, this one ornamented with a single red ring. It crackled to life, shooting out a deadly ray of scarlet. Qualtan’s sword immediately created a magic shield to protect him. The priest scanned the room with the ring, arcing the ray wide. Euric spilled onto the floor, avoiding the beam as it passed over him, slicing through a pillar of metal. Qualtan continued the assault. The priest refocused his ray on him, but Qualtan’s shield held. He reached the priest and sliced the menacing hand free. It burst into flames, along with the ring it held. He followed with a sword blow into the priest’s midsection, toppling him over. He gasped, folding like a crumpled napkin. Qualtan quickly rolled him back. Euric cautiously returned to his feet.

“Loathsome creature! Speak!” Qualtan demanded. The priest looked at him dully, smiling. Black ichor dribbled from the sides of his mouth.

“Heh. You are already cursed,” he said, before his eyes rolled up and his tongue extended out. Qualtan dropped the creature, stunned more by his words than by his ghoulish appearance.

“What did he mean by that?” Euric said.

“Nothing. Words to injure us, is all,” Qualtan said, unnerved. His thoughts went back to the Haegtes, the evil creature he had vanquished to free the town of Cuthbert, and the nightmares of what she had foreseen for his future. He did not dwell on them long.

“We continue on. The arrogance of Those That Stand in Shadow knows no bounds. The orcnes and goblins work on assemblage below, and here, they worship the Dark Ones and their images as if they were gods. It follows if we breach the center of this place, the main tower, we shall find him!” Qualtan said.

“They ARE gods to these brutes. He must have seemed one when he first came to their lands, and their fear and awe of him led them to follow him here and to work like dogs for him. Makes sense he would glorify himself like this, to remind the fools of his power and why they should obey him,” Euric said.

“Then we must hurry before…” The knights had failed to take notice of one particular statue that stood beside a doorway. It was tall, etched into the wall with great detail, for its body was composed of skeletal parts, skulls and hands, feet and legs. As they had conversed, the skeletal parts had removed themselves, forming separate moving pieces. Feeling danger, Qualtan rolled away from the skeletal warriors that suddenly appeared behind him.

“By the High Lord! What fell magic is this?!” Euric said. An extended arm, made up from a score of smaller ones, reached out for him, grabbing him in a giant skeletal hand.

As Euric struggled to free himself, Qualtan fought back the others. Skeletons with one arm, or three arms, two skulls or none, threw themselves at him. He battered them to pieces, one after the other. His foes defeated, he hacked into the giant arm that had been pulling Euric closer to the main statue, shattering its hold on him. Euric fell to the floor, wincing in pain.

“Are you all right?!” Qualtan asked. Euric nodded painfully.  “Aye! Got a hug too tight for my making. I…” Euric paused, looking past Qualtan. As Qualtan turned to see what Euric was staring at, both knights gasped. The skeletal statue pulled free from the wall. Wailing skeletons of man and beast writhed within it as it stalked forward. One arm became a horn-like weapon as sharpened bones meshed together over its hand. Qualtan grabbed Euric by the collar and hurled him to one side. The monster lunged. Qualtan threw himself against the statue of the Dark One, rattling the sculpture with the impact. The giant skeleton head smiled and struck again with its blade-like arm. Qualtan avoided the contact, dodging the attack. He ran closer to the animated creature, where its blade would be useless. Dozens of grasping arms reached out for him, but he hacked through them. The creature’s other free hand groped for him, but he splintered it with his sword. The creature reeled, giving Qualtan a chance to hew one of its legs through. The creature toppled, tripping over itself. From the stump of its damaged leg blew out an explosion of skulls and bony debris. Caught by surprise, Qualtan ignited his magical shield, but another arm formed from the bones on the creature’s full leg and it immediately pummeled Qualtan from an undefended side. A surge of bony material engulfed Qualtan, attempting to pull him into the main body. For every protuberance he shattered, another two took its place.

Euric charged again, seeing Qualtan’s peril. Rather than attacking the body, he raced around it. As the creature readied its scythe-like arm, Euric appeared, striking through its wrist. The weapon spun to the ground. As the great skull head turned to face him, Euric cried out, and with one deft blow, beheaded the creature. The skeleton body shook, falling apart, giving Qualtan the opportunity to burst free. Gasping for air, he dragged himself out of the now unmoving material. Euric quickly took him by the shoulders.

“Hurry!” Euric exclaimed. A group of curious orcnes, investigating the noise from the battle, appeared. The two knights ran quickly into the doorway the skeletal statue had guarded, just being missed by the orcnes who attempted to make sense of the carnage before them.

They ran through the dark entrance into yet another gargantuan chamber, filled with evil statues hundreds of feet high. They moved past their unmoving, cloven-hoofed feet, their winged torsos disappearing into the sky above. The sounds of industry had begun to fade as they penetrated deeper into the Dark One’s abode. Altars began to appear beside every statue, stained brown with dried blood. Behind them, they could see bobbing torches. The orcnes had decided to pursue them inside this place. Soon, they came across even more orcnes, dragging bodies off the roughly hewn altars to evil. Another priest took notice of their haste, pointing to them and commanding them to identify themselves in the tongue of Those That Stand in Shadow. They did not respond. As the other orcnes continued to give chase, those that stood around dropped their unmoving charges to assist. Qualtan and Euric shoved them aside, as they continued their frenzied dash through the cyclopean chamber. The priest leapt into the air like some giant frog, landing before them and pointing yet another glowing ring at them. Qualtan quickly brought forth his enchanted shield, protecting them, as Euric quickly struck next, impaling the surprised priest, who quickly fell. “They are gaining!” Euric said, looking behind him. The numbers of orcnes increased. Maintaining their haste, the knights hacked through a small group of goblins who dared to give them battle. The chamber led towards a gaping doorway, angling to the right. Qualtan and Euric continued to run towards it, until from the very doorway that seemed to offer escape, another priest appeared with a horde of orcnes behind him. He called out at the two. The orcnes escorting him lumbered forward to attack. Qualtan screeched to a halt, grabbing Euric, who nearly ran past him as he attempted to stop.

“Now what?” Euric said, panting for breath. From before and behind them surged a flurry of orcnes, seemingly trapping the two knights between them. Qualtan looked about, smiling briefly.

“This way!” he said, grabbing Euric and dragging him towards one of the devil statues. Euric looked up, way up, and then looked back at the horde that would soon close upon them.

“I can’t climb that!” Euric exclaimed.

“No, but I can!” Qualtan said. Grabbing hold of Euric in one arm, Qualtan jumped onto the statue, scurrying like an agile monkey over its leg as Euric held on. The orcnes converged below them as Qualtan used his strength to climb higher and higher.

“We are going to die!” Euric said, holding on for dear life.

“No, we are not! I’ve had to do this one time too many as it stands. Hold tight!” Qualtan said. They reached a multi-armed portion of the statue where entwined hands formed an easy platform to land upon. Below, the priest made his way to the base of the statue they had climbed. Raising his hand, he shot forth a bolt of energy towards them. It smacked against the statue, tearing free one arm that fell to the ground, causing the orcnes to yelp in fear and disperse.

“We have to go higher!” Qualtan said to a moaning Euric. They clambered further, reaching the head of the statue. Far down below, yet another priest appeared, called forth by some of the orcnes at the disturbance. Qualtan eyed the doorway that beckoned escape.

“What do we do now?” Euric said. “Now, we jump!” Qualtan said.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Euric said, strengthening his hold.

Like a great spring uncurled, Qualtan sprung towards the closest statue next to them. They landed and soon bounced towards another, and then another. Below, the priests attempted to keep pace, running alongside the statues, cursing loudly while shooting their beams towards them. The energies blazed around Qualtan and Euric, detonating the heads of the statues they bounded from, metal and stone raining down on the hapless orcnes below. At the turning point of the corridor, with no other statue to leap to on their side, Qualtan was forced to make a quick decision. The orcnes and priests crowded beneath them, sensing their prey was trapped. Both priests aimed their enchanted rings and struck at the same time. Before the bolts of power could make impact against him, Qualtan jumped across the chamber itself, towards the statues that stood on the opposing side.

For a moment, Euric felt they had failed, and the sensation of falling quickly brought his stomach to his throat. He closed his eyes, but was suddenly rewarded with a harsh stop to their flight, as Qualtan’s hands had dug into the statue opposite theirs, digging deep into the stonework. The effort was successful, and even the orcnes and the priests below paused in disbelief, watching the two intruders hurtling over and above them. A sudden groan emanated from the statue that both priests had struck seconds before. It began to lean towards one of its brothers, causing both to teeter and fall. Orcnes shrieked as they were lost beneath the bludgeoning sculptures that slammed to the ground.

Qualtan released his grip. Both he and Euric fell straight down, landing onto the waiting claw-like hands of the statue, making their way to the ground below. The air was filled with dust from the fallen rubble, and Qualtan quickly ushered Euric ahead of him towards the large, circular doorway that brought safety and relief.

Euric was forced to take rest, his body in pain from the jarring it had taken.

“Qualtan! What you just did…what we just did!” he gasped.

“There is no time to speak of it now. We’ve been given a small reprieve. We have to take advantage of it!” Qualtan said, taking a moment to gulp mouthfuls of air.

“But we are now discovered. We will not escape in this place,” Euric said.

“Then perhaps it will serve to keep Bartholomew and Jesepha safe, and put the attention on us. Hurry, we move now!” Qualtan said. Euric nodded, coughing in pain, as he returned to Qualtan’s side. Once more, they took to racing down the ebon corridor, wicked faces gleaming from the walls at them. Suddenly, a great rumbling began to take effect, followed by a grated screeching. From above, great slabs of metal began to slide down with the intent of sealing off the corridor and trapping the invaders.

“Oh no!” Euric wailed. “They mean to catch us here!”

“Not yet!” Qualtan said, eyeing the end of the corridor. They ran fiercely, as if the Dark Ones themselves were biting at their heels. The slabs continued to fall, coming closer and closer. Qualtan took hold of Euric, who was falling behind, and lifting him like a packaged bundle, ran as fast as he could. Already behind them, a clang of metal signaled the first barrier sealing off the corridor, followed by another some paces before it, and then another. The exit to the passage seemed to disappear beneath a final barrier that lowered to protect it. With a scream of defiance, Qualtan jumped forward. Euric buried his face in his hands as they slid safely past the last barrier seconds before it slammed down behind them. With loud thumps and bangs, the slabs locked into place.

“This is beyond me! Beyond any mortal soul!” Euric said, his courage starting to leave him.

“Have faith, Euric! We are safe! Come!” Qualtan said, urging his friend yet again to join him. Mumbling to himself, Euric followed meekly. They remained still for a moment, collecting their thoughts, waiting for another attack, but none came. Rising, they walked softly through a metallic corridor that dazzled with shards of green/white light.

“We are not angels to battle devils in this place! We shall lose our souls here…” Euric said as despair began to settle in. Qualtan refused to let fear take him. Defeat had filled him when he had been captured by the Slth and left to starve and thirst. Horror and panic had wrested control of him when he had walked through those dark, dusty plains of the Slth homeworld as monster carpets of teeth and tongues flew by. It was beyond him now. He had been baptized in fire and was unwilling to succumb again. He refused to think back to the words of the Haegtes, now revised by the priest in his recent memory. He would not.

A gentle tinkling took their attention. They stopped, hugging the walls as best they could. The noise grew closer and louder.

“What is it? What?!” Euric demanded. Qualtan prodded the knight to be silent, but he refused. “No more, no more!” Euric babbled.

“Euric, calm yourself!” Qualtan said, but it was too late. Euric’s eyes were open with wild horror. He sprinted past Qualtan down the corridor.

“Euric!” Qualtan yelled angrily. He had no choice but to follow. He heard Euric mew like a whipped mongrel forced into a corner by its angry master.

“Euric!” Qualtan was forced to abandon stealth. He could see Euric now, falling to his knees before what appeared to be tendrils or ropes, numerous ropes, dangling from the ceiling. When Qualtan reached him, the image was now clear—horribly, horrendously clear. Despite his inner words from just moments before, even he had to cling to his sword to feel a sense of safety, a sense of order in this perverse world of death.

There were chains, thousands of them. All of them swaying from a dome-like ceiling high above, into a chamber that reached below where they stood. Euric was struck dumb with terror, laughing quietly as tears welled in his eyes, for the chains held bodies: human, elf, dwarven, even orcne, and many others of all sorts and sizes. Withered bodies hung by great hooks like pieces of meat left to cure. All around, they rocked in silent motion, creaking and scraping, as far as the eye could see. They had found the answer to the riddle they had been searching for.