Age of Demons_In Search of the Amulet Read online

  “Well, I am not amused,” the younger wizard said. He turned, caught Talarren’s eye, then stormed off. The older wizard watched the newcomer trudge down the road and keep going til he left the magical district. The older wizard glanced at Talarren, shrugged his shoulders, and walked off.

  The heavy wooden door carved with arcane designs seemed to watch Talarren as he approached. It was set into a high bluestone wall surrounding an immense tower of large red brick mined from the ancient quarries in Lafarrhine’s mineral rich south. An impressive structure, First Wizard Tower rose up to a deceptive height, appearing to tickle low-lying clouds drifting by as they cast lazy glances below. Balconies jutted out at regular intervals on random floors. Strange as it seemed, no flying creatures ever circled the Tower, a fashionable accessory among powerful wizards. First Wizard Tower was adorned with no glowing lights or shimmering walls, no exotic creatures pacing platforms or rooves, not even a pixie, and no guards or anything at all to give a visitor any impression they were entering, arguably, the most potent magical premises inside the known world. There were, it must be said, the obligatory magical symbols and inscriptions marked in various places around the external walls as well as mysterious runes written in calligraphic-type lettering.

  Talarren rapped loudly using large, brass, lionhead door-knockers.

  A doorman dressed in simple tunic embroidered with yellow stars surrounding a blue sun peered through a peephole before hauling it open. Talarren was admitted. He was a well-known and welcome visitor. He often came to observe the ground floor workshop where experienced warlocks trained acolytes in their craft. The Ranger considered it a most fascinating place. It combined elements of library, workshop, apothecary and laboratory. As he stepped into First Wizard’s bizarre premises, he looked forward to seeing this enthralling workshop once more.

  He climbed the external staircase leading upwards. He peered through the workshop’s cloudy, smoke-marked window framed with old cobwebs. Once more its mystery captured his imagination. He paused a moment to spy on its myriads of smoking and steaming bottles, of bubbling and gurgling potions, of lizard legs and bat wings, dried grubs, multi-hued feathers, strips of weed, of weird and wonderful herbs, rats, frogs, hamsters and cats, vials filled with this and that, smoking vats, unusual birds chirping in cages and butterflies flittering free and alighting wherever it took their fancy. Internal organs of different shapes and sizes preserved by vinegar or brine or some other substance lay suspended in glass jars of various sizes. Dried body parts of magical and ordinary creatures lay in neat piles tied with string along one wall. Scrolls, tomes and phylacteries lay open with arcane spells written within.

  Novices wrote feverishly in insubstantial spell books. Glass bottles of spiders, snails and insects lined ledges along walls and cupboards. Shelves filled with bones and miscellaneous items filled walls stacked with tomes and intricate tools. Sacks, bags, vats and baskets of unnamed substances sat piled in corners. Desks and stools lay about. Cauldrons bubbled and boiled. Apprentices read from scrolls or observed warlocks demonstrating incantations with wand or staff. Wizards sat at desks inscribing runes on parchments; others pored over arcane books of magical lore. Teacher and novice practiced incantations over and over till they mastered their craft or some difficult new spell.

  Talarren circled his way up the tower as he ascended to the second floor. He knocked. A voice bade him enter.

  “Talarren,” First Wizard smiled, placing down his tome and rising from his armchair with excitement. “What brings you to Alonçane? Come, sit down.” He knew why Talarren had come.

  They embraced warmly. “Here, refresh yourself.” A pint of amber ale appeared in Talarren’s hand. He smiled, then plunged into a comfortable armchair opposite. Runes of ancient magical lore lined the walls. Magical symbols, colourful and mesmerising, dotted various surfaces, including a brightly painted yellow ceiling. Books and scrolls lay scattered everywhere. A staff sat in a corner; an innocuous-looking piece of wood capable of wielding devastating power, matched by few items anywhere on earth.

  “I need a spellcaster,” Talarren said, coming straight out with it.

  First Wizard nodded. He gazed ahead for some time, lost in contemplation.

  Talarren did not rush his wizened old friend. Instead, he peered outside a circular window. Towers, turrets, steeples and spires filled the district foreground. Further afield more towers and turrets, palaces and spectacular buildings packed a rich landscape constructed on undulating hills inside Alonçane’s outer walls. Temples and palaces dominated its skyline. Certainly, Talarren thought, there was no better place to come. Talarren had total and complete trust in First Wizard’s judgement.

  The wizard-sage understood well what Talarren needed. He needed a spellcaster. Where else could he find a suitable one if not among the Alpha Circle of Magicians?

  “This will test you, no?” the old man eventually said, his gnarled fingers entwined in each other. “You will be flying into a hornet’s nest.”

  Talarren nodded. He didn’t know how but his magician friend already seemed to know what he wanted. Talarren nodded again, his face grave. “He must be your best, of course.”

  First Wizard smiled his acknowledgement, then added: “He?” He smiled again. “Of course it must be a he! He doesn’t want complications with the fairer sex, does he, our mighty warrior-hero Ranger, a man universally known as dashing, daring, rugged and captivating?”

  Talarren pretended the compliments were never uttered. “If she’s taken celibacy, a female will do.”

  “Will do,” the wizard repeated.

  Talarren studied the old man. His dead-pan responses seemed strange.

  The wise wizard half levitated, it seemed, and half dragged himself to his feet. “I have just your man. Experienced, loyal, trustworthy. Thinks quickly in a crisis. Accomplished spellcaster. His name is Winchester. Let’s see if he wants to join you.”

  Talarren stopped short. “Wants to? Can you not command him?”

  A hearty laugh erupted as First Wizard reached for his staff. “My dear friend, this is the Alpha Circle. We are not like these cults you hear about. Our magicians have choices.”

  Talarren did not argue. It lay not with him to instruct First Wizard how to govern his Alpha Circle. He would wait and see. If none cared join him from the Alpha Circle, he would go to Endess-ra-Kulum, another renowned wizard. If fortune did not favour him there, he would go to Adventurer’s Arms.

  They walked outside and ascended the neatly tiled external staircase hugging the Tower, offering privileged views of Alonçane. They halted at a third floor platform. Stairs ascended mysteriously upward to who knew where. First Wizard led them through an ordinary wooden door.

  Inside, four men sat around a table enjoying a breakfast of porridge mixed with fresh milk, raisins and honey. Crusty bread steamed on a breadboard surrounded by bowls of figs, melons, tangerines and grapes. Each of the men wore a long robe of various colours, all embroidered with Alpha Circle’s symbol of orange stars around a blue sun. “Winchester, you’ve heard of Talarren. He needs a magician. Life-threatening danger, excitement, riches, adventure, travel, hardship. For noble reasons.”

  Winchester appeared to take this interruption to his breakfast, and potentially his life, as an everyday occurrence. His three friends continued to eat, observing with moderate interest.

  “Yes?” Winchester asked casually.

  The old wizard turned to Talarren, who furnished Winchester with his answer. “Track and destroy Norse pirates raiding Highland villagers. Free slaves bound for Zanzibar. On our way north infiltrate King Harrad’s abandoned castle believed inhabited by goblins and restore it to its rightful owner.”

  After a brief conversation Winchester agreed. Talarren left him to finish breakfast with his friends. They returned to First Wizard’s private quarters.

  “You’re not telling him any more?” First Wizard asked.

  Talarren shook his head. “He doesn’t need to know.”
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  First Wizard stared at something longingly outside his window. “If only we could recover the Amulet of Power, this ancient artefact of Rohalgamoth. Can we dare hope you are right? It is a dangerous quest to undertake merely on the strength of a rumour.”

  “Our efforts will be worth it, even for the remotest chance of recovering such an artefact.”

  “I admire your hope.”

  “Without hope, what else do we have?”

  First Wizard nodded, his admiring eyes resting upon the Ranger, known everywhere for his courage. “If it is true and you do indeed recover our long lost Amulet, the greatest defence against demons we have, then your name will go down in history with legends like Samson-Ramon and other heroes of bygone ages.”

  Talarren breathed in. His steely grey eyes met those of First Wizard. “Can we read from your Tome of Demon Lore?”

  “Again?” First Wizard asked. “Why flagellate yourself? You must know these chapters by heart.”

  A heaviness descended upon Talarren. “I fear there is a convergence of evil, a succession of ill omens in these dark days. Aelred shares my thinking and this only confirms my suspicions. Is there a link between the resurgence of the Sorceress of Llularven, the Archdruid of the Grove of Purple Ivy and recent news that Norseland’s most wanted pirate was a renowned chieftain during the Norse Devastation? Stirring up a hornet’s nest in Reswald might flush these rats out from their filthy nests.”

  “You are a mighty warrior, my dear Talarren. If what you suspect is true, these demons have reason to fear.” With that, First Wizard stumbled to his heavy, not quite dustless shelves. He blew forcefully on a thick tome before pulling it loose. He nestled it under his arm as he sunk deeply into his velvet armchair. He sat, wriggling here, adjusting his robe there, nudging a recalcitrant pillow, straightening his back. He touched his glasses further down his strong, Alonçane nose, stole a quick look at Talarren, then slowly peeled back the heavy bone and leather-bound cover.

  He read. “’At the dawn of time, before elven footfalls fell lightly along forest tracks, before orcs trampled upon its surface, when the wings of Black Damonën filled its skies, before watermen swam into underwater caves and before hardy dwarves built their subterranean caverns, a cosmic violence erupted across all celestial planes. Spirits of good strove for a just order; spirits of evil strove for domination. Each attracted followers after their own hearts. Each aimed to establish their masters’ reign. In these spiritual realms where battles raged, neither surrendered nor compromised. They fought across physical and spiritual worlds and each of the four elemental planes. Earth was always held to be their prize.

  “Deities for good unleashed their extraordinary powers through all dimensions of existence in their quest to flush out and vanquish their evil counterparts and their vile minions. The wicked deities retaliated, trespassing into cosmic territories previously concealed from them. Age after age exploded in supernatural violence. Eventually, goodness prevailed. Evil forces, defeated and weakened, slunk back into dark corners of the cosmos, barred from firmaments and galaxies wherein dwelled the early genesis of creatures fair and foul, of men, elves and dwarves, of magic and sorcery.

  “Resentful and brooding over their cosmic defeat, they refused to surrender their dreams of ultimate domination. In their everlasting quest for power, demons sought ways to infiltrate earth and establish dominion over it, to wrest it from the powers of goodness. After eons of clandestine attempts they found a hidden pathway all but forgotten by heavenly beings. Through these avenues they shared their powers with mortals, though in limited ways. They discovered that they could not enter earth themselves, but they could transfer arcane evil into objects and artefacts such as weapons, talismans and phylacteries. They also learnt to spawn minions and monsters after their own dark hearts. In this way, deities of devastation found a way to bypass the limitations placed on them. Though in small and unobtrusive ways, evil began to re-enter earth.

  “These devils, demons and deities of destruction devised other ways to further their diabolical objectives. Connections with men and creatures in time and space gained them footholds. Slowly evil spread across earth, in subtle and blatant forms. Especially through the Dark Arts, evil forces slowly gained momentum. They grew in influence across unpatrolled regions of earth. Seduced by its tremendous power, sorcerers and priests began to practice these Dark Arts, giving themselves over to the sinister goals of their spiritual masters as they offered child and human sacrifices on grisly, bloodstained altars.

  “Around different climes, creatures infected with evil sprung up, creatures like dragons, Black Damonën and undead who imbibed black magic from evil deities. Though not in direct communication with them, they nonetheless drew inspiration from them. More dangerous were elemental spirits wishing to corrupt their natures, such as a power-hungry efreet, forever agitating to enter earth to wreak havoc and evil. Orcs, goblins and other non-magical creatures tended to darkness, unrelated to evil divinities yet indirectly living under their influence. These sought out violence as they interfered with the firmament’s delicate balance of neutrality.

  “Despite wisdom and power exuding from the forces of good, a weakness existed in their plan to forever exlude demons from earth. It was discovered that when evil grew to such magnitude that it reigned upon earth, when men and women turned their hearts to darkness, an entry point would be created for evil forces to finally invade the earth. The pantheon of virtuous deities would be helpless to prevent it.

  “This cataclysmic situation would be known as the Age of Demons.

  “To forestall such a catastrophe, deities of virtue searched for ways to promote goodness while minimising the influences of evil. Though free to make their own choices, they nevertheless placed in human hearts and all natural beasts a disposition for goodness. Magical creatures aligned to peace inhabited earth, such as Pegasus and pixies. Elves evolved as wielders of magic; also aligned to goodness. Dwarves, halflings and other non-magic creatures such as roc and aquazorn populated land and sea, naturally shunning evil, though a propensity for greed in races such as dwarves made them vulnerable to corruption. In collaboration with their mortal allies, dieties of goodness created magical weapons, items and artefacts to promote goodness and destroy evil. They allowed good magic to proliferate among druids, priests and other classes, including mighty paladins.

  “More than any other thing, celestial deities relied on the natural goodness of humanity and the innate benevolence of nature to prevent evil growing and gaining ascendancy on earth. As such, the destiny of created worlds lay in the hands of men and women, beasts and creatures. In the First Age, dieties of justice, chief among them mighty Rohalgamoth, devised a final bastion against evil, the Pact of Rohalgamoth, forged between himself and the two foremost human powers of the day. This spiritual Pact was made in solemn profession on Mount Rohalgamoth in Temple Rohalgamoth in Lafarrhine’s eastern border. These two human powers, the High Priest of Ehud and the First Wizard of Alpha Circle, stood tall. They and their successors aligned themselves with Rohalgamoth to promote justice and fight evil. If evil ever grew to unmanageable proportions it would break the Pact. If this happened, evil fiends could then rupture the spiritual barriers preventing their entry into earth, heralding in the Age of Demons. Such a disaster would be unthinkable. Over time, evil waxed and waned, but never reached such proportions to herald in this frightening Age.’”

  Talarren held up his hand. “First Wizard, is the Pact in danger of being broken?”

  First Wizard shrugged his shoulders. Talarren could see in the old man’s contrived smile an attempt at putting on a brave face. “I cannot say, but I dread the signs of our times.” He continued reading. “’The Pact of Rohalgamoth bound human to divine. It was sealed when First Wizard of the Alpha Circle joined forces with the High Priest of the Order of Ehud. These powerful leaders pledged a timeless pact with Rohalgamoth to maintain the power of good over evil. Such was the Pact’s power, its very existence acted as a
n invisible barrier to evil and its proliferation on earth. Successive High Priests of Ehud and Successive First Wizards of the Alpha Circle maintained this Pact in an unbroken line from the First Age.

  “A belief arose amongst Dark Arts practitioners that should this Pact ever be broken, it would herald in the dreaded, unthinkable Age of Demons. When this happened these unspeakable fiends would unleash their power on earth, unfettered by cosmic constraints binding them, creating mayhem and chaos till evil reigned supreme. The floodgates of evil would crash open; evil would descend upon earth, enslaving everyone and everything.

  “For many, the Age of Demons was a mere fantasy, a myth giving monarchs, emperors and tyrants reason to keep their people loyal. For those who knew better this threat acted as a sword of Damoclese hanging over the earth, a warning to keep men’s hearts pure and to keep violence at bay. Though earth’s orange sun rose each morning from its distant eastern home, and though this same bright sun set gloriously each evening to disappear into darkness, giving the impression of a tranquil balance across the cosmos, evil fiends were plotting night and day to spread their influence on earth; to somehow sneak past the spiritual barriers created by the Pact, which hitherto proved impossible, even for demons such as Hammadai and Asmodeus, who eventually lost interest.

  “These higher demons instead spread evil through their servile minions, hoping thereby to accelerate a process of decomposition of men’s virtue, of their natural order of love for others. They whipped sycophantic demons into service, to conjure up ways to make love grow cold across the earth, to turn men’s hearts to greed and violence, to become selfish and proud, to forsake the needy and weak among them - to dominate. One such being vied for being first to crack the Pact, to create evil across the land. This evil being, so prophecies attest, was transformed from a normal spirit denizen of the Elemental Plane of Fire into the ranks of demonhood through his own evil ingenuity, deceiving demons into passing him their power and secrets. He desired more than all else to prey upon men on earth. The Age of Demons was his goal, his hour, his ambition. All his evil genius was harnessed to destroy the Pact of Rohalgamoth and herald in the Age of Demons, of which he alone planned to become lord and master.’”