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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 14: Pazazu
It had been almost two weeks. Two grueling weeks of hard trudging through this winter weather. A tropical jungle now awaited them, a blistering, humid, suffocating menagerie filled with mosquitoes the size of shields, savage and pagan natives, and the relics of the Fright Knight ancestry, traces of the supernatural.
Ancient temples lush and overgrown by emerald vines, every inch the eye could see covered by fountains of viridian botany. The air was thick and steamy, but a foul odor of death was everywhere. In the distance, acrid pyres of the dead, bodies from the war that had been scuttled to build undead war machines, sent columns of evil black smoke that had a stench of melting human fat and burning flesh. Beauty melded with sinister images of evil.
The camp had been hastily built a few miles from the crypt, near a reservoir of murky jungle water that had algae-ridden bones jutting out of its depths. Though an ominous shadow hung over Gereld, Jythemite and the rest of the detachment, Dark Foresters were an un-superstitious bunch. They’d been taught from birth what was real and what was an illusion, but Gereld could only think that if the terrors of this earth were so great, how horrible could the terrors of the imagination be?
They could only wait. Tomorrow the two would head deep into the crypt, and put an end to their fears once and for all.
The misty tropical air clung to the leathery skin of the ronin warrior, even deep within those wretched catacombs. It was colder down there, and the wafting odor of death and decay surrounded him, but they were still not near deep enough. Not deep enough at all. The corridor seemed small with the lichen-infested columns that were packed so close in the space allotted. It added to the sense of primal fear the ronin and his companion felt. Or did his companion feel it? He did not know. He could not smell his fear, but how could he not be afraid? How could he unleash the creatures of h ell and not be afraid?
The damp and foul air felt thicker as a pale blue light grew brighter before them, swelling to a blinding white flash and settling again into a black flame. The ronin covered his eyes at this moment, terrified, yet his companion did not. Slipping out of the black womb, Pazuzu’s white face emerged out of the flame. His black eyes were rimmed with red bags, his face was twisted into a grimace. It was the same grimace he always wore. No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold. With a voice like sandpaper scratched across sharp rocks, he bellowed.
“Did you find the blade?”
The companion, face hidden by the collar of his black steel armor, seemed unfazed by Pazuzu’s hideous appearance and unholy voice. He replied with nary a quiver in his speech.
“No, sensei. We were followed.”
Pazuzu frowned.
“Followed? By who?”
“The Dark Foresters, sensei. They believe they have the right to police the world. They followed us into the crypt.”
“What happened?”
“We ignored them for quite some time before we reached the Door to the 13th Soul. The gate that leads to the second crypt level.”
“And?”
“They must have triggered a spell of some sort. An enchantment, laid down by the crypt-makers.”
Pazuzu’s eyes darted. “Curse you, Ael-Khan-Ra, you tyco megablox...what did it do?”
“It....it summoned something...in the bowels of the crypt…”
“What was it?! Tell me mortal!!”
The samurai paused, as if afraid to utter the name.
“Beelzebub.”
Pazuzu shrunk back, his faced lined with revulsion and horror.
“The lord of Pandemonium himself?”
“Yes, sensei…”
“And the Dark Foresters?”
“Slaughtered. We left immediately, the fear took hold of us, sensei. We cannot defeat that... That…”
Pazuzu smirked.
“You do not have to. Kanto, Daimyo, I have a demon slayer...who shall do the job for me.”
Several weeks had passed since the rogue Falcons had been captured. No word had come from the Dark Foresters deployed to Ninja territory until one morning, just before the Yuletide, two terrified-looking, ragged men stumbled into the Keep. They reported into Bjarn’s chamber at once.
“My Lord, we made good time into Ninja territory...we located the crypt after our spies followed a band of Ninjas, and our main group followed them in...we were left outside. After twenty-four hours, when they did not return, we went inside. It is a treacherous place. There seem to be a great number of treasure-rooms filled with who knows what dark things, but a great many black enchantments were laid in the corridors. We found the main group after an hour’s searching. They were all dead. There was no mark on them, but they were all dead as cold stone! There is an evil about that place and we dared not stay!”
Bjarn listened quietly, then said, “Gladwheel and Vos brought it upon themselves. It is no fault but their own. Perhaps now the Dark Foresters can put a halt to their nosing about and to what is important; rebuilding their kingdom.”
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