By the time he stepped back into the central chamber of the cavernous Library, Hulbard's senses were already starting to return. He moved in a slack jawed daze, but any movement at all seemed to help and that alone was what drove him forward. Pausing at the head of the staircase, he surveyed the hall and only dimly registered the ragged scholar standing nearby on the steps leading higher towards the first Reading Room.
"You slew our Master?" the words were more of a statement than a question.
"We did," Quintus answered quietly, peering overhead, "Regrettable but unavoidable".
"Then you carry their Shard of the great Crystal?" Rags asked.
"No, we destroyed that too," Quintus hummed.
"Then...this place is finally done," the acolyte breathed softly, "Our stalemate against time is broken".
Before another word could be spoken, a flurry of movement made Hulbard turn to see Ailasin coalescing nearby. She'd scarcely taken shape before the ghostly shade lunged towards them with wild, wide eyes.
"Quintus!" she snapped, "You must go. Now!"
"What's wrong?" the old man growled.
"Aersgald is coming," Ailasin hissed.
"Who?" Shankhill squeaked.
"There's no ti-" their guide began but she was cut off by the explosive crash of shattering glass overhead.
The sound rolled out into the tower from the first Reading Room, but it was quickly followed by the crunch and crack of shattering furniture. Hulbard's shield was already lifted when the vast shape of the antlered hunter from the flooded port emerged from the portal above. It had to stoop to fit its bulk through the archway that had sheltered them all with ease earlier and, straightening up, the hunter was easily taller than it. In one hand, he held his massive bow and, in the other, an arrow the length and thickness of a javelin. His skull sheathed head turned to them, but those emerald green eyes settled on the acolyte instead. A mighty arm came up and there was the nerve grating groan of a bowstring being hauled backwards. One moment Rags was turning to face the intruder. The next he was pinned to the staircase with one of those great arrows through his chest.
As he was wheezing out his last breath, that skull sheathed head was already turning to look up the staircase. Without so much as a backwards glance, he broke into a run up the worn steps, taking five or six at a time with his great stride. He reached the gap they'd been halted at and sailed over it in a single, effortless leap. Landing on the other side, the great bowman had just risen back to his full height when he was struck by a bolt of azure lightning from above. It snapped into his shoulder and dissipated into the surrounding air with little more than a fierce, hissing crackle. Aersgald's arm swung up and around, an arrow already set to string and drawn. Hulbard caught a fleeting glimpse of a Sorcerer on the next platform up before he was speared off his feet. Crouching low, the creature hurled itself up to the next platform in line, where more Sorcerer's were just beginning to emerge from the second reading room.
Aersgald shouldered the great iron brazier off its mount and sent the flaming coals spilling across the robed figures, setting them alight in an instant. With flames licking at his legs, the great hunter advanced on the burning Sorcerer's.
"Go!" Ailasin's voice rang with iron authority, "Now!"
The LIbrary doors opened at their approach and they scrambled through them as fast as they could, jostling their way out into the harsh noon sunlight.
"West!" Quintus wheezed, "She said to go west. Through the trees".
None of them needed to be told twice and they bolted for the treeline, past the still, woven figures and into the deep, tangled undergrowth beyond. Hulbard led the way, barrelling through low hanging branches with his shield and bulk in equal measure while stumbling and staggering his way over the web of roots running rampant underfoot. Trastgor ran by his side, chest heaving and breath wheezing but eyes burning bright. Knox ran opposite, moving with surprising speed and agility for a man who'd been on the brink of death not that long ago. A glance over his shoulder showed Quintus struggling along in his wake, spittle flying from bared teeth with every laboured breath, using the blade on his staff to chop his way through the thinner branches snapping at him from all sides. Skye and Shankhill were hot on his heels, both doing their best to keep up, while Semekt was a dark blur to the rear.
In their wake, above the hammering of his own heart, Hulbard heard the cacophony of battle echoing through the Library like thunder as the Sorcerer's within unleashed their full fury on the trespasser; lightning crackled and fizzed alongside the crunch of taut icicles shattering like bones and the rippling, undulating roar of all consuming fire. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard before, a force of nature given form, but through it all, Hulbard still heard the rhythmic thump of Aersgald's great bow. Through the chaos, his bow still sang.
Ahead, through the swaying tree branches with their whispering leaves, Hulbard saw the west wall rising. Knox already had the grappling hook whirring by his side by the time they reached it and he sent it sailing up onto the grey battlements with a dull clink before Hulbard could even give the order. Knox went first and Hulbard made sure Quintus went next, unsure whether the old man would even be able to climb all the way to the top and ready to catch him if he couldn't. The Sorcerer made it, if only just, and they followed.
Knox quickly secured the grapple to the ramparts opposite and flung the rope over the edge, creating a way down for them. With a fearful glance back the way they'd come, he clambered over the dull grey stone and slid down the length of rope to the wide roadway below.
"Why didn't it attack us?" Skye asked in between gasping for air.
"Doesn't...matter," Quintus huffed, ashen faced and trembling, "We...need to...fucking go".
They only paused to catch their breath once they were back on solid ground beyond the Library gardens, resting in the shadow of its great wall. Leaning back against the stone for support, Hulbard dragged in deep breaths to steady his hammering heart, but they did little against the pounding in his skull.
"Think they'll kill him?" he heaved the question into a sigh.
"Who?" Skye asked, and Hulbard jerked his head back over his shoulder, past the wall and the gnarled trees to the Library behind them, "Oh, I'd say so, yeah".
"I can't imagine a single person, even something like that, taking down the entire Library," Quintus added, "We could scarcely make it up a flight of stairs".
"It didn't seem to care much when it was getting pelted by lightning," Knox noted.
They lapsed into silence, listening to the battle raging nearby, echoing within the vaulted halls of the Library, for another long second. Hulbard's eyes wandered west, past the skeletal ruins surrounding them towards one of the structures that had been dominating Dalaghasts' skyline ever since they'd left the flooded port behind; the same structure he now knew to be their destination. Normally, it had always been overshadowed by the blue tower they'd just escaped from, but with that behind them now, their new destination seemed just as imposing. It seemed to be made up of two towers, one at the front and the other behind, with a vast hall stretched between them. Even from where he stood, Hulbard could see great arched supports stretching outwards from the walls of that central hall, but he could make out precious little detail beyond the general shape of the thing.
"Guess that's our destination," he jerked his chin towards it.
"Looks that way," Quintus agreed, "We'd best get moving before anything else goes wrong".
Shoving himself away from the wall, Hulbard led the way across the wide open street and into the narrow alleyways winding their way through the surrounding buildings. Many of them had collapsed under their own weight after so long left exposed to the elements without maintenance, and they picked their way through the remaining ruins in silence save for their footsteps. After the claustrophobic confines of the Library's basement, Hulbard relished even those narrow streets and walkways, despite how shadow choked they were even with the sun so high above them. Knox plodded ahead with his bow at the ready, moving from intersection to intersection and making sure the way was clear for them and despite the secret he'd kept from them for so long, Hulbard still found his steadfast presence reassuring.
True to what Ailasin had told them, it didn't take the band of adventurer's long to reach the Temple of Glawth. They stepped into the large living room of a sizable house through its crumbling rear wall and, through a similar hole opposite, they got their first real glimpse of their destination up close. Crouching down in the shadowy recess of the building's vacant doorway, Hulbard peered up at the vast, imposing sight ahead of them. A wall of dark grey stone soared skywards to form the entryway tower, squat and rectangular with architectural flourishes etched into every corner.
Recesses had been chiselled into the stone in ordered intervals and each one was surrounded by intricate engravings. They housed a myriad of different statues, most of them much taller than Hulbard himself, and he couldn't help feeling awed at the ingenuity that had gone into building the temple before them now. These statues were often flanked by windows of stained glass, in simple archways or sprawling into flower like designs, and the tower itself rose into a commanding spire bedecked with pale blue tiles. Towards that peak, dozens of twisted stone shapes sat perched on elaborate ledges with their heads thrown back and mouths open wide in a chorus of silent screams.
Below, broad steps led up to a set of iron doors standing twelve feet in height and engraved with a multitude of swirling images. Constellations wound together with the phases of the moon and richly depicted flowers to surround the relief of a figure in billowing robes. They had their arms outstretched to the masses, as if to embrace them, but it bore the head of some kind of canine. Still, Hulbard had seen people worship less in the past. The space before this doorway was littered with the remains of broken furniture and liberally dotted with aged splotches of blood.
Beyond that first tower stood the hallway, flanked by its maddeningly elaborate set of supporting archways and buttresses, each engraved with unique artwork or surmounted by more menacing statues. Further still, the rear tower was a vague outline at best, but seemed to split off into several towers instead of just one.
"Looks like they tried to barricade the door," Knox noted quietly.
"Ailasin did say they had to turn people away before the end," Hulbard hummed, "But if an angry mob couldn't get through those doors, I don't really fancy our chances".
"Those doors could be sealed with Sorcery," Quintus added, "I might be able to force the lock like I did at the Library, but I won't know for sure unless I can get a closer look".
"Can't say I particularly like the idea of walking up those steps too much either," Hulbard said, "The area is very open. If anything is lurking around here, it'll see us a mile away".
"We could climb up one of those arches," Trastgor gestured towards the nearest buttress, "There's plenty of handholds along the way. Maybe we could reach one of those windows and break in that way?"
"That is a very long climb," Shankhill told them, already cringing at the thought of it, "It's what...three times the height of the wall we scaled back there? Before it begins to level out? Seems like spitting in the face of death, if you ask me".
"Not a bad assessment of our chances," Knox grinned wryly.
"Can;t you just wave your hands a little to get us up there?" Shankhill continued to Quintus, gesturing in a wild approximation of how the Sorcerer normally cast his spells.
"I wouldn't like our odds under ideal circumstances," the old man grinned at Shankhill's theatrics, "And this is far from ideal. I don't think any of you realise just how fucked Skye and I are after the last few days".
"I can't speak for you, but I'd love to know how Skye's fucked," Shankhill's grin flashed in the gloom.
The apprentice rolled her eyes at him, before balefully remarking, "You're the thief. How would you break into a place like this?"
"I'm not a thief," Shankhill told her a little indignantly, "But if I were, I would suggest checking the rear of the building for another way in".
"Those windows along the sides look like they're low enough for us to reach," Trastgor noted, craning his neck.
"Let's leave that as a last resort," Hulbard said, "I don't want to announce our entrance if we can help it. The quieter we get in, the quicker we can leave".
Pushing himself upright, Hulbard led the way out a side door of the ruined house and into a narrow street beyond. Down ivy choked lanes and across weed strewn side streets, they made their way around the vast Temple as stealthily as they could. Past missing blocks and through empty windows, Hulbard saw the huge, stained glass windows running along the sides of the great hall and he realised that most of them were likely works of art in their own right, though they were obscured more often than not behind the thick, yellow leaves of trailing creepers. Ducking through empty doorways and clambering across loose mounds of rubble, they quickly made their way to the rear of the Temple, where they found a wide plaza with a single pillar at its heart.
Crouching in the deep shadows of an overhanging eve, they surveyed the odd scene before them. A pillar of marble stone standing almost fifteen feet in height stood ahead of them with a fire burning on an open topped platform at its summit. This fire crackled and spat as it ate away at a bundle of wooden logs, but produced no smoke. Steps had been hewn into the circular outer wall of this pillar, leading up to the fire and it was alongside those flames that an emaciated man stood. Wearing nothing but a grey loin cloth, the figure stood in front of the flames, facing the Temple, with a brass staff held horizontally above his head in both hands. His face was set in a determined scowl, while every muscle in his body stood taut and trembling from the strain of holding his burden aloft.
"Well, you don't see that every day," Skye commented quietly and Shankhill scoffed.
"You could say that around every other corner in this place," he whispered.
"Well, I feel like it's particularly relevant here," she snapped back.
"Shut up, both of you," Quintus told them, "I'm trying to think".
"Try not to hurt yourself," Shankhill rolled his eyes.
While they bickered, Hulbard had turned his attention on the rear tower of the Temple. It was similar to the front entrance, surmounted by another tower though dotted with less sculptures. This time, an elaborate and expansive balcony stood midway up its length to overlook the plaza, where he could easily imagine religious leaders must have once stood to address the masses. The platform was carved from the same, deep blue stone Dalághast was famed for and even from where he crouched, he could see sconces artfully chiselled into the likeness of roses high above. At the foot of the tower, a heavy door of iron bound and studded oak was recessed into the brickwork.
"That looks a little more like what we're looking for," he noted, pointing.
"It still looks pretty solid from where I'm standing," Shankhill said quietly.
"Nothing a little bolt of lightning won't soon sort out," Hulbard told him with grim confidence.
"I thought we were trying to be stealthy?" Skye hissed.
"I think this is about as stealthy an option as we're going to find," Hulbard told her gently, "We're at the rear of the building and that doorway probably leads into that tower instead of the main hall, so if we do attract any attention, there's a better chance of finding a choke point or two from this side".
"No argument there," Trastgor drawled, "But what about him?"
He nodded towards the man standing sentinel before the smokeless fire and Hulbard hummed as he considered the unusual situation ahead of them.
"Perhaps I could try talking to him," Quintus suggested and Hulbard's heavy shoulders heaved a careless shrug.
Taking that as his cue, the Sorcerer scoured their surroundings one last time to make sure they weren't missing anything before stepping through the crumbling hole in the wall and out into the open. His companions remained where they were, watching as he strode towards that marble pillar and its lone occupant. He must have seen Quintus the second he emerged from the building, but the man said nothing at the Sorcerer's approach. Instead, he continued to hold his heavy bronze staff aloft and stare fixedly towards the balcony overhead. When it became clear he'd have to make the first move, Quintus cleared his throat and spoke loudly.
"Hello," he called.
"Begone shade!" the man's voice was shrill and taut with tension, "No matter your words, I will take no heed of them. You shall not turn me from my sacred repentance, so spare me your lies!"
A moment of silence followed his declaration, during which Quintus scratched the back of his head with a confused wince.
"What are you repenting for?" he tried.
"I repent eternally for not only my own folly, but the folly of my kin," the martyr announced boldly in a trembling tone, "We, who besieged the great Temple for a month and a day. We who sought to force our way inside before we were swallowed by the dark for our hubris".
At this, the man bowed his head, squeezed his eyes shut and began to speak in a low, hushed whisper, seemingly to himself. Quintus waited for a long second before glancing back towards his companions with a helpless shrug. Turning back to the man, he tried again.
"I'm not sure what you think I am, but I assure you, I'm no evil shade sent here to test your...trial".
"Blessed Savior Glawth, I beseech you to give me strength of purpose to deny this liar and his honeyed words," the figure's voice rose and he lifted his head back towards the sky, eyes wide as they fixed on the balcony, "I repent!"
His head hung low as he returned to mumbling words Hulbard couldn't hear.
"Enough of this," Quintus scoffed, "Hulbard, the door, if you would".
"Here, hold onto this for me," the warrior said, handing his heavy shield over to Knox, "Keep it held up in front of everyone. I've a feeling this is going to be messy".
Stepping from the ruined house, they left the madman to his ramblings and converged on the iron bound door. Yellow and orange lightning sparked from the citrine gems set into Hulbard's gauntlets as he approached the portal. His companions crowded close behind Knox, all hunkering down behind the protection of that great metal shield, and Trastgor overlapped his own with it to provide more cover. Once he was sure they were ready, Hulbard turned his attention on the doorway and lightning pulsed from his palms in roiling, rippling waves that lanced up both arms to crackle between the pointed tips of his armour across both shoulders. The gemstones embedded into his armour glowed into dull, angry life as he began to manipulate the power sealed within them, guiding it down into his right hand.
The bone jarring hum of gathering power began to course through his veins and Hulbard felt his eyes beginning to water as his migraine mounted right along with it. Knowing better than to prolong the experience, Hulbard raised his right arm, levelled it at the door and, with his teeth grit painfully tight, directed all that power down into the prongs set above his splayed fingers. A halo of light played about his fist, building to a crescendo of crackling, primal fury before he released it with an explosive blast of energy. There was a deafening 'CRACK!' as a bolt of orange lightning split the air between him and his target.
The door was obliterated in the blink of an eye. It exploded, spraying glowing red hot shards of metal and splinting of flaming, charred wood through the air. Debris crashed, scraped and clinked across his armour and he heard even more clatter against the shields behind him. In their wake, the doorway was left wreathed in grey smoke and steam.
"Nooooooo!" the scream rent the air and Hulbard half turned in time to see the madman atop his pillar gaping at them.
The bronze staff slipped from his fingers and crunched to the flagstones far below with a loud clank.
"What have you done?" his voice was a high pitched squeal, caught between his terror and disbelief.
"What you couldn't do," Hulbard's voice was a deep, bestial snarl, the agony pounding behind his eyes threatening to overwhelm him.
Shaking out the twitching, trembling muscles of his right arm, he stepped through the steam wreathed doorway without another wasted word.