BECMI Chapter 511- Unwheeled

With startling suddenness, the ground in front of the tauroid hecatoncheires rumbling towards us on its hundred stumpy legs dropped away, shattering a thin covering of earth and stone in front of us and suddenly racing down into the depths of the hill beneath us. Given its speed and momentum, it didn’t realize that it should stop anywhere near in time to do so, and it fed itself into the hole in the ground with startling speed.

I stepped away as a great column of rock began to grow at the top of the hill. It was a hundred feet high in seconds, two hundred in twice that as we stepped away… and then there was a crack as the rock under it broke, and it dropped down and away into the unseen tunnel-pit beneath the hill, sliding down after the creature that had charged into the pit with energy and enthusiasm.

A glitter of Interdiction made certain the hecatoncheires wasn’t going to Teleport or anything out of the way, either.

“Cruel but effective,” Cirru nodded, picking up the pace. Behind us, there was a thump, and sprays of blood under heavy pressure actually managed to spurt all the way up the tunnel behind us as uncounted tons of stone crushed the thing flat a thousand feet below us. “Probably comes back in the morning?” she hazarded.

The openings to the pit filled over and were gone, leaving no sign the creature was ever there. “Probably,” I indicated, the WidenedDown to The Abyss doing its job of digging out deep shafts nigh-instantly quite well. “Let’s go find us a Lord.”

---

Cirru’s blue and white attire made us hard to miss. The Chariot turned in our direction as the armored, bearded figure, a muscular and bearded being with a crazed grin on his face, came racing towards the place where the column had gone up, then come down, and its friendly ravaging hecantoncheires had vanished. With a whoop and a call, the driver snatched up a javelin and threw it our way.

Cirru leaned away from it. I reached out and caught it as it went by, Funf’s TK taking care of the momentum, and I was completely immune to the scorching heat of its path. “Pop the pin,” I told her as the great blood-red fanged and claw-hooved cauchemars pulling the polished bronze fire-wheeled chariot pounded directly for us, plumes of brimstone smoke pouring out their nostrils like huffing train engines.

She crouched down, as did I as suddenly the ground lowered all about us, and a ramp was suddenly arched in front and back of us, but the overhead was clear.

The great nightmares pounded by above us, leaping the small gap, and Cirru punched up.

The Thunder Follows Lightning smashed into the main pin holding the harness to the chariot, and blasted the tongue completely free. Suddenly the chariot wasn’t being held back by anything but the reins, which promptly tugged it forward and over and down suddenly as it came into the air.

The driver was launched out of his ride as his chariot flipped, dug the extended hitch into the ground, and rolled under him, crashing away as he let go and went flying, smashed into the ground awkwardly and heavily, rolling and cursing and laughing as he did so.

His steeds ran away into the distance, free of his control, but he only looked after them and laughed more as he hopped easily back to his feet.

Ten feet tall if an inch, in polished blood-red plate armor that seemed to bear no nicks or scratches. His hair was wild and uncombed, red as blood, yet free as flame with no matting or gore allowed to impede it. His skin was the color of copper, but his eyes were icy blue, cold and crazed and on the edge of berserker madness as he straightened up, only glancing once after his fleeing chariot team before turning to look at us.

“More visitors to the Red Realm!” he called out in a powerful baritone, unshaken and radiating amusement. “Are you here after the Emblem of my realm, too?” he asked with rather a nasty smile, a sword as long as that of his faithful knight held easily in one hand.

“It would seem the Carnifex are free, Lord Finisil!” I responded to him, as we walked down the hill towards him. “We would know the truth of this!”

He tilted his head back and laughed madly. “They are indeed free!” he crowed out to us, completely unrepentant of the fact. “Hundreds of them came to my realm, hunting for me and my Emblem! I did glorious battle with them until they managed to slay me! Alas, they did not know the Emblem will return to me upon the morning if I do not say otherwise, and so whatever amusements they were trying to think up did not occur!” he proclaimed with glee. “Still, they are free and loose in the mortal realm, and the battles that will occur there!!!” he exclaimed, clenching his fist in excitement.

“They sought to seal the way to their Realm by destroying the Emblems and their Gates entirely, Lord Finisil,” I said, stopping a respectful ten paces away from him and bowing. “My companion Cirru and I, Lady Edge, are investigating to determine what action to take next… but we need the Emblem of your Realm to proceed.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

His maddened smile hadn’t changed as he looked back and forth between us. “It seems you passed my knight with little injury. Let me see if Kalrag is still competent enough to stand in his duty, seeing how many have gotten past him…”

Then he raised his Sword and charged at us, flames blazing to life down the shining length of steel.

A long spearhead’s shadow formed around Dread as I stepped left, Cirru right, flashing across to parry the blow. There was a shriek as the steel was bitten into by Dread’s Spear, which became a PANG as Cirru punched, and Finisil’s Blade was snapped off completely by the impact, six inches above the hilt.

The towering figure looked a bit surprised as he pulled back the sizzling stump of his Sword, and then Cirru waded into him.

Her fists smashed into Finisil like jackhammers, the impacts on his steel plate crunching and crimping the metal with the force of her blows as electricity and thunder echoed and crackled around the impact points. The bastard was driven backwards in surprise from the thundering force of her fists, looking rather astounded at how powerfully she was hammering into him.

Bane of Legends surpassing his damage resistance, Way of Wind to ignore his Immortal Aura of Deflection, and a dragon in halvyri form who was much, much stronger than she appeared to be coming in to put a whupping on him!

Finisil had reach on her, which didn’t impress her in the slightest, as her own blows could reach out beyond her fists to land on him in return. His blows were strong and powerful, but heavy and lacked the speed of the flurry she was unleashing upon him in building combinations that were driving him back and back and-

Was that my Staff stuck in the ground there? It was.

Lord Finisil was really astonished when he stepped back, his knee hit Dread coming in, his weight shifted, and down he went.

He looked up, and Duum’s full-sized Lance smashed right into the center of his chest, backed by tons of giant Bat and a lot of ire on a Spirited Charge.

The crunch was quite final, as was the splurt of blood and protest of double-penetrated steel. Nevertheless, a casual backhand from Finisil hurled Duum off of him, and the Guardian of the Red Realm just laughed at us from where he lay, impaled and nailed to the burnt crimson earth.

“But three of you! More courage than the last fools!” he chortled around the blood coming up out of his mouth. “Here is your Emblem!” He snatched it off his belt and threw it at me like yet another flaming rocket, watching in delight as I bent aside and caught it calmly as it streaked past. “Let us see what it avails you of the Carnifex, and the slaughter to come!” he crowed, and then his entire being burst into flame, Armor and Sword and all included, flaring and passing away with speed and thoroughness.

I eyed the Arrow of blackened chariron in my grasp, then looked around, my eyes settling on the overturned chariot there as Duum, his Lance reclaimed, leapt up, tumbled in an arc, and shrank down to tiny size to land on my shoulder, tiny Lance slung off his back again.

Cirru’s gaze followed mine as she flexed her hands, wisps of steam rising from her bruises as Healing Reserve did its thing on her, the bastard’s hands brutally powerful if not so quick as hers. “Loot?” she asked, equal parts aloof to temptation and interested as a dragon.

“Why not? It’s all we’re going to salvage, it looks like.” The inside looked to be paneled in carnelians and jacinths set in ebony, of all things.

We glided over to the over-sized thing, sized for an ogre, its wheels cooling and no longer flaming since it wasn’t in motion. Cirru heaved it back upright without much effort.

It actually had a chest in it. We both blinked, wondering if it was an ammunition locker, but he’d looked like he was creating his javelins out of nothing for each throw.

TK was as good or better than picks, and the lock soon clicked open, no traps that I could feel.

Inside was… a large Tome, a gleaming black mithral Gorget, and a set of Hand-fangs. All radiating magic at +V.

I looked at Cirru, she looked at me, and I pulled everything out, giving her the clawed knuckledusters and Duum the Gorget, which shrank down perfectly around his neck, blending into his fur almost invisibly.

The Tome was scarlet cauchemar hide, with black pages in which burning red letters and siglas were written to channel energy through. It wasn’t a reference guide, it was an Implement, a focus of power.

“Books channeling magic add to length and steadiness. Plus five Caster levels to Girding and Duration, yes?” Cirru asked me, fitting on the gleaming steel Handfangs curiously. She didn’t need them in the slightest, her Greater Magic Fangs did the same job without much issue, save for punching Damage Reduction… and that she could do as an elder dragon without issue.

“Indeed.” I should have made one long ago, just for completeness, and never had, since I had never really needed it.” I dropped it over my shoulder and into my Masspack, there if I wanted to use it in the future, while she did the same with the Handfangs.

Another gesture repaired the tongue of the Chariot to full, although naturally not the team of mighty nightmares that had gone running off into the distance.

With a magical woosh, the door to my Sanctum Sanctorum opened up directly in front of the Chariot. Cirru politely kicked out, shoving the over-sized vehicle right on through the door, claiming our prize and its nonesuch chest in total.

I’d have to give it to the DM of Doomrose for the Dungeon there. It was probably a one-item-per-person thing requiring Immortal Power to use, but still, useful to have and know where it was.

Load lotused up out of my Masspack, Cirru sat down on it as my Wings popped, and we took off directly for the iron keep a couple miles in the distance, uncaring of what might be flying about.

“Was that an Immortal?” she asked me, curious given how tough and magic-resistant Lord Finisil had been. She knew how fast she could pound down something in front of her, taking great pride in her ability with mortal martial arts in the House of the Storm Dragon. He had endured a LOT of punishment!

“...No. An Immortal Creature, and a very tough one, like a very favored Titan of Energy not bound to a single master. Eternal, unchanging, bound to his post and charge and unable to get away… and clearly going quite mad from reliving all these battles again and again and again.” I felt sorry for the powerful mortal soul it had once been, clearly having gone over the brink after all these years. “The name of the Carnifex means nothing to you, either?” I asked her.