There is an addage: "It is always darkest before the dawn," and that is definitely true for the next installment of Axiomatic Anarchy. Gritgut brought the Arbiter's reign to end, and thereby won his freedom, but agents of the vile Grey God have their own designs for the oltreggan and his new friends.
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Landon raced upward to join his friend and the ceiling exploded into light. The mage clamped his eyes tight against the flare of magical energy, but the radiance still blazed through his eyelids. He recovered as best he could, blinking to try to clear the afterimages, hoping Gritgut had withstood Penance's spectacular death throw.
The oltreggan stood in the field of reverse gravity on the ceiling, his body heaving with every deep breath. Landon marveled at the resiliency of the barbarian and shouted his friend's name: "Gritgut!" The oltreggan jerked his anchor from the slag remains and whirled to face him, ready to continue the fight, but when his dark eyes focused on the mage he relaxed. Landon motioned towards the ceiling entrance and the two rushed towards it. The portcullis remained closed.
Glancing downward, Landon cursed. The castigators were up to something, he could feel the mounting arcane energy. Suddenly, each plate that comprised the automatons detached and began to spin until the area was filled with a cloud of serrated doom. Soon the storm of blades would soar upward to drink in the blood of the oltreggan and human. Landon spun and flashed a bolt of sonic energy into the portcullis, only to see various wards flash and dissipate the assault into a gentle puff of air. "To the Chained with you, Solis! Open the bloody door!"
As though the stringed curses were a pass phrase, the flanged barrier slid away. When both had entered the passage, Landon shaped a solid wall of force with his will, blocking the gate. A series of sparks and sharp whines denoted the castigators' vain attempts to breach the barrier. Seemingly free, Landon and Gritgut scanned the Hall of Retribution, but the chamber was empty save for the scrolls on the walls. The mage began moving from wall to wall in search of something. He paused and snatched a waiver from its spot. To answer Gritgut's confusion, Landon smirked and said, "So I will have proof when I tell the story to my peers."
Solis hurried into the antechamber, sweat gleaming on his exposed skin. "It was hot in that room! I'm glad you struck the portcullis. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known." The loresinger eyed Gritgut, inspecting for wounds. Seeing none, he nodded his relief. "You seem hale. The ruse fared well?"
Landon patted Gritgut on a bulging shoulder, "Hairy head here squashed ol' Bucket. However, I think we better leave before the Dark One, or whoever the glabrezu spoke of, comes."
"Dark One?" Solis' alabaster skin paled further. "The only Dark One is the Grey God - who shan't be poking his thrice severed body in any part of Crown."
Landon looked intrigued. "Odd you should say that, Solis."
"Odd indeed," answered a third voice. It sounded wan and ashen, as though spoken from the mouth of a corpse. The shadows of the treasury entrance coalesced into a single figure. The shape spoke of a sarulaan, though the flesh looked taut and dull, its vitality drained away. Segments of the face and arms appeared to be flayed away, revealing obscene musculature and gleaming bones. Instead of white, the exposed bones were the silver of mithril. Carved symbols connected to the Grey God lined its chest, throat and face, providing the stalwart warrior an arcane mantle of palpable terror.
The sarulaan flexed its mithril-shod claws and strode closer. Its two amber eyes shown with callous malevolence, like two calderas from the deepest infernal pits. "Where have you heard of the Dark One's thrice-severed body, lumilon?"
"Anyone who trammels these accursed bowels of a balor demon hears the whisper of such." Something about this half-living entity startled Solis, as though he could perceive the horrific violence contained inside the demon spawn. "You would do well to leave us be, fiend cub."
Laughter, like the crackle of dry leaves, rustled in the sarulaan's pale esophagus. "I thought you'd rather enjoy the company of my brethren. Especially you, oltreggan."
Gritgut's fingers tightened on the keelboat's brake. "Iz no meet yer brothers!"
"Ah, ever articulate." The sarulaan's lips pulled back, revealing a series of vicious fangs. It neared the unnerved loresinger. Landon moved to intercept.
"Move no closer, fiend! Ye'll be needing more mithril bones if you do."
The sarulaan turned his head, locking his foul stare with Landon's. "Oh, and I wonder what cantrip will do that..." He turned back toward the bard and began extending a silvery claw.
