torg 01 - Storm Knights (32 page)

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Authors: Bill Slavicsek,C. J. Tramontana

Tags: #Role Playing & Fantasy, #Games, #Fantasy Games

BOOK: torg 01 - Storm Knights
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As the Gaunt Man spoke, Scythak stepped forward and handed a pair of rune staves to the dragon. Carre-don took them carefully, repeated its orders, then spread its black wings.

"As you command, my master, so shall it be." And then the Carredon flew.

103

Tom O'Malley waited beside his airplane on a small airstrip north and west of London. He had delivered his cargo as promised, and was now awaiting the goods he was to transport back to Australia. He looked again at the sky to the south, in the general direction of London, and was disturbed by the dark clouds. The man he delivered the cargo to had been nervous, frightened even, rambling on about the terrors that were assaulting London. O'Malley had heard as much on his radio. He had even been warned off by air traffic controllers on the continent when he wasn't able to raise the London tower.

He checked his watch again. He could only give his client a few more minutes, then, cargo or not, Mrs. O'Malley's little boy was taking to the sky and flying home. There was too much weirdness happening in the world right about now, he decided. America, England, France, and even the Indonesian islands closer to home were under attack or worse depending on the reports you heard. It was crazy — but it was also very scary.

Just as Tom O'Malley was about to call it a trip, he noticed an automobile racing onto the airstrip. It zigged and zagged as though out of control, and it was moving much too fast when it wasn't jerking to a stop, but it seemed to have a definite destination in mind. It seemed to be heading right for Tom's plane!

O'Malley, nervous now that his beloved airplane was being threatened, leaped in front of the swerving vehicle and yelled for it to stop.

It kept on coming.

Tom swallowed hard, put his hands out more for protection than as a signal to the car, and closed his eyes. He heard the car's engine race, heard the tires squeal, heard the brakes catch. He opened his left eye a crack, and saw that the car had finally stopped — right in front of him.

It was a powder blue four-door that didn't look too old. But it had more dents and scratches than Tom had ever seen on one vehicle before. He tried to see who was driving, and Tom did a double take. The car was empty!

"What in the world is going on here?" he shouted out loud as he ran around to the driver's door. Before he could grab the handle, however, the door flew open and a small, stocky woman leaped out. She was about three and a half feet tall, had braided black hair, and wore a combination of leather and armor that made her look very formidable. So did the array of weapons she carried on her person — an ax, a mace, a number of daggers, and a large pistol.

"Who? What?" O'Malley stammered.

Then more of the small people filed out of the car. Tom counted as they emerged — one, two, three, four, five, six. Plus the woman. There were seven of them!

And they were driving a car! Tom felt as though a cruel joke were being played on him.

The woman fell to one knee before him, and the others did likewise. She held her ax before her, offering it to Tom.

"We ask for asylum in your cosm," the woman said. She had a thick accent that was almost German, but had a hint of somewhere even farther away than that. "We have decided we have had enough of conquering, and ask that you take us to your High Lord."

She lowered her head again, and the other dwarves followed her lead. All that is except one, who stared at Tom's plane with something akin to awe. The woman rapped him atop his metal helmet, and he obediently dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tom said calmly. "What's the punchline?"

One of the older-looking dwarves leaped up. "I knew it! The folk of this cosm make trolls look smart! How many times are we going to make the same speech, Pluppa? How many times?"

The woman named Pluppa turned to Tom. "Please, good sir. The forces of Aysle could be right behind us. They will only kill you. What Lady Ardinay does to traitors is not something I wish to burden you with. But we cannot control the magic chariot very well, and we really do need to get away from this place."

Tom thought for a moment, looking over each of the dwarves in turn. They certainly didn't look like they were joking. And he did need cargo.

"Can you pay your way?" he asked.

"Oh sir, we are able warriors, and we are engineers and craftsmen of exceptional ability," Pluppa boasted. "And we have gold." She tossed him a small sack. He hefted it, feeling the weight. Then he opened it and poured seven large nuggets into his palm.

"Come on, then," he said, still not positive about the whole deal, "you've just bought yourself passage to Australia."

104

Decker was driving the minibus west, with no destination in mind. He trusted that the woman named Tolwyn would know where to go when the time came. But he would need to get gas soon, and he needed to check in with President Wells.

"We're going to stop in Indianapolis," he explained. "I have to make a call and we could use some new supplies. Just keep the lizard out of sight."

The gas station had a small snack shop attached to it, and while Decker went to use a phone the others headed into the shop. He deposited a handful of coins and dialed the private number Wells had given him. He listened to the phone ring two times, then the ring was replaced by a buzzing that didn't sound good to him. He hung up and tried again. This time there was no ring, just the buzzing. He would have to try later.

He entered the snack shop and saw that it was decorated with giant prints of American landscapes. There was Old Faithful. Over there was Mount Rushmore. Tolwyn was standing before one of the prints. She wasn't moving, just staring at it. Decker walked over to her.

"Tolwyn? Are you all right?"

"That is the place," she said. "That is where we must go."

She pointed at the picture. It showed the rugged, beautiful scenery of the Grand Canyon.

105

Baruk Kaah sat among the black roots of Rec Pakken, basking in its evil aura. Eddie Paragon was with him, explaining everything he could about Earth. Baruk Kaah did not understand much of what the singer said, but Rec Pakken did. And, the High Lord decided, that was good enough.

An edeinos entered the dark forest, making the signs of apology as he approached.

"Why do you disturb us, gotak?" the High Lord demanded.

"The expansion has been halted, Saar."

"What?" Baruk Kaah raged, rising to his feet.

"In the middle of our realm is a place of the dead. We cannot defeat the warriors there."

"Leave. I shall deal with this soon."

The gotak scrambled out of the forest.

Baruk Kaah opened his senses to Rec Pakken, asking for guidance. The darkness device showed him a Core Earth hardpoint, an area within their stelae bounds that refused to give up its reality. The darkness device suggested that he ignore it and continue to expand around it.

"No!" the High Lord raged. "I will destroy this hardpoint by personally imposing my reality upon it! Come with me, Paragon. You shall see the power of a High Lord. You shall sing of the power of Baruk Kaah!"

The tribes were poised within their own reality, just beyond the pocket of Core Earth that had formed around Silicon Valley. Baruk Kaah could feel the dead land. It was like a festering wound within his healthy, living realm. He would heal the wound.

The High Lord stepped forward, cloaking himself in a swirling storm of his own reality. The storm moved with him into the hardpoint.

"Be with me, Lanala," Baruk Kaah prayed. "Stand beside me, Rec Pakken."

The reality of Takta Ker entered the reality of Earth, and a fierce storm formed around Baruk Kaah. Staggered by the surge of Earth energy, the High Lord fell back a step. Then he spread his arms wide and expanded his own storm. He pushed it wider, trying to overwhelm the Earth storm. Lightning swirled around him in a wide arc as the two realities battled for dominance. Thunder filled the area for miles around with noise. Then the storm collapsed back upon Baruk Kaah.

One tribe rushed forward, surrounding the High Lord. Gun fire sounded, and many of the edeinos fell. But enough made it back into the realm, carrying the body of Baruk Kaah.

Eddie Paragon rushed to the Saar's side. He saw that the silent ravagon was with him, too. The High Lord appeared to be dead, but then his yellow eyes opened.

"Rec Pakken," he whispered. "Get me to Rec Pakken."

The gotaks came forward, hefted the Saar, and headed back to where the darkness device waited.

Paragon stood watching for a moment, then looked back toward Silicon Valley.

"Your reality is strong, singer," the ravagon said, speaking for the first time ever in Paragon's presence. "And Baruk Kaah is a fool. He shall cost my master much before this is done."

Then the ravagon spread his wings and followed after the gotaks.

106

Thratchen went from room to room, searching for the Gaunt Man. He checked the tower room, the Grand Parlor, the banquet hall. He looked in the gardens, the hedge maze, the kitchens. Finally he descended into the basement levels and entered the laboratory. The Gaunt Man's machine hummed evilly. He could see the energy of this planet's possibilities playing across its gridwork surface.

"Intriguing device, don't you think?" Gibberfat spoke from atop one bank of levers and knobs. The tiny demon was reclining, hands behind his head and one knee dangling over the other.

"Have you seen the Gaunt Man?" Thratchen asked.

"He's gone. Took off. Should be back soon. Or not. That's the way he is, you know."

Thratchen cursed and turned to leave. But Gibberfat called him back.

"Why have you returned, Thratchen? You left so long ago. What brings you back now?"

The Tharkold shrugged. "I want to be where the power is."

"More likely, you want the power for yourself," the demon laughed. "I've seen the way you look at Heketon. I've heard you ask about the old legends. But you haven't asked me, and I've been around for a long time."

Thratchen hadn't thought of that. The demon had been around even before he had appeared on the scene.

"Very well, demon. What can you tell me about the legends?"

Gibberfat laughed. "Just that. They are legends, nothing more. But I do know the story, if you want to hear it."

Thratchen nodded, folding his metallic wings about himself.

"Legends," Gibberfat began, reciting the words from an ancient memory. "They speak of The Place, in the Time of Nothing. The Void was alone in The Place, possessed by an unending hunger but unable to sate it. Then Eternity entered The Place, full of dreams and possibilities locked within its infinite instant with no method of release. Void and Eternity met, and The Maelstrom was formed.

"The Void tasted the essence of Eternity, and it became aware of what it craved. Eternity boiled away into the Void and billions of possibilities were destroyed. Whole galaxies came and went as the Void fed. The Maelstrom endlessly tossed out possibilities that were destroyed in the whirling currents of creation. But, eventually, two possibilities survived.

"The Nameless One, a being that took after the Void, was destruction personified. Apeiros, created from realized possibilities, was of Eternity's image. The two waged a war of creation and destruction — Apeiros setting possibilities free, the Nameless One feeding on their power. But as fast as the Nameless One could feed, Apeiros could create. There could be no victor. Then the Nameless One invoked the Void.

"With no other course available, Apeiros left The Place. It appealed to Eternity and saw an infinite number of possibilities opened before it. Apeiros took them all, diffusing the possibilities throughout the new place — throughout the cosmverse.

"The Nameless One, now alone in The Place with the Void, vowed to hunt down Apeiros and Eternity, no matter how long it took. It used what limited creative powers it had learned during its war against Apeiros to create the darkness devices. Then it sent these items of evil into the cosmverse to perpetuate acts of destruction and capture the dispersed shards of Eternity."

Thratchen moved closer. "Speak the rest, demon. Finish the tale."

"Legends," Gibberfat continued. "They tell of the discovery of the first darkness device, and how it elevated its possessor to High Lord and then led him to other cosms to destroy and drain possibilities. Thus was born the first of the Possibility Raiders; thus was spoken The Prophecy — there would arise a High Lord with the knowledge and power to absorb so much energy as to become immortal, all-powerful, a god. And this High Lord would be called the Torg!"

"But," Gibberfat finished, "they are only legends."

107

On the world of Terra, in a cosm far removed from Earth, the Gaunt Man walked the shadowy streets. This reality was ridiculous, the Gaunt Man thought, the design of a madman. And, in truth, that was what Terra's High Lord was. Mad.

The Gaunt Man entered a run-down tenement in a rather shabby section of the Terran city. Why did the High Lord keep up these shams, he wondered. Why

does he play these games with the stormers of this world? The Gaunt Man shoved the thoughts aside. How the High Lord handled his cosm was no concern to him. But how he handled his part in the Gaunt Man's plans, that was his concern.

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