Wreathed in grey steam, Hulbard stepped through the doorway and into a low, wide room beyond. Thick curtains of faded red linen hung from rails across the ceiling, segmenting the room into many smaller areas. With the thunder of the door's detonation still ringing in his ears, Hulbard marched forward. Every muscle in his body was tense, read to react to a horde of different imagined threats in a heartbeat, but aside from the gently fluttering curtains, the chamber was silent and still. Dust motes hung thick in the air, caught by the light streaming through the doorway behind him.
Breathing deep, his senses straining for any sign of danger, Hulbard drew back the first curtain with the head of his hammer. The brass rings attaching it to the pole overhead rattled loudly in the room, but there was nothing beyond the curtain save more hanging linen. He could feel his companions close behind as he advanced into the room. Drawing back another sheet of worn linen, he saw a strange block of stone ahead in the middle of the chamber. It was surmounted by several burning candles and in their ruddy light, he saw the phases of the moon carved into its face, surrounding that same dog headed figure he'd seen on the Temple's door. Wax flowed from the candles down over the bright stone, the wicks burned down to stubs but the flames showing no signs of faltering. Approaching it, Hulbard saw a deep groove cut into the upper face of the stone block. It was coated in a layer of cracked, dried blood but he could still make out the faint glint of gold coins at the bottom of the basin.
"Strange customs here," Knox muttered at his shoulder.
"Not exactly what I was expecting," Quintus admitted.
"I was expecting worse," Trastgor rumbled.
Stepping up next to Hulbard, he held out the shield to him.
"Thanks," the Kurgal said.
"Keep it for now," Hulbard told him, "I have my armour and your shield has seen better days. You need it more than me right now".
"Are you sure?" Trastgor asked, eyes widening behind his bone mask.
"Aye," Hulbard said, "My own will serve you better. Don't worry about trying to use the gemstone's power. It's naturally resistent to Sorcery so keep that in mind moving forward".
"Thank you," Trastgor bowed his head in gratitude, but Hulbard was already striding towards the next curtain.
This time, when he drew it back, he found a recessed doorway behind it. The doorframe had been carved into the likeness of trailing vines, complete with blooming flowers, but the carvings looked twisted in the dim light. Setting his shoulder against the heavy wooden door, Hulbard heaved it open on screeching hinges.
Beyond lay a smaller room than the last with walls sheathed in crimson wooden panelling. The carpet underfoot was spotted with sickly green mould and scattered with torn pillows. Here and there gold goblets rings and jewels glittered in the gloom. Another doorway stood opposite the first, but an alcove had been carved into the wall to his right above a shelf laden with more coins and rough hewn gemstones. Several statues, each as tall as Hulbard, had been arranged in the alcove against a forest backdrop carved in high relief. Foremost among them was the dog headed deity he took to be Glawth with its arms lifted as if to embrace the masses. It was flanked by two more statues to either side shrouded in thick robes with their arms likewise extended and their heads bowed. As he looked the display over he began to pick out racing hounds, birds and squirrels artfully chiselled into the frame surrounding the entire scene. It was only then that he noticed an emaciated man kneeling before the alcove, withered away to a dull, ashen husk with the passage of time. Clad in nothing but a loin cloth, he made for a grisly sight. His muscles had stiffened to keep him in place with his head bowed.
"Offerings to their God, no doubt," Shankill said as he picked up a coin, ignoring the husk of a man by his side, "Always heard it was bad luck to steal from a temple, but I'm not sure that counts when the patron God was made up".
"Don't you think we have enough gold?" Skye scoffed, rattling her own backpack for emphasis.
"I've never thought such a thing in my entire life," Shankill smirked.
"And what a sorry life it's been," Trastgor rumbled.
"Maybe, but still better than this sorry soul," Shankill jerked his head towards the corpse kneeling by his side.
He was about to turn away when he noticed something hanging around the man's withered neck and, tentatively reached down towards it, Shankill lifted a long, silver chain over the dead man's head. Lifting it to the light, he revealed a heavy key hanging from it.
"Hardly what we came here for?" he asked hopefully.
"Doubt it," Hulbard held up his hand and snatched the key out of the air when Shankill tossed it to him.
He looked the heavy iron key over before his eyes were drawn to the rusted lock on the door leading deeper into the temple. Approaching it, he tried the handle and found it locked.
"Our friend locked himself in here," he surmised, sliding the key into the lock.
"Devoted," Shankill wiped his hand on his cloak before gathering up the rest of the jewels on the shelf and stuffing them into his pockets.
The key turned with the grating screech of rusting tumblers but the lock clicked open all the same. Tossing the key over his shoulder, Hulbard tried the handle again and this time swung the door open wide with his hammer held at the ready. Ahead stood a grand dais, surmounted by an altar of smooth blue stone. A towering window of stained glass rose to his right, painting the entire scene in a multitude of soft hues that swam together to mingle with the meek glow of nearby candles. Hulbard gave the silence a long moment to grow before he stepped out onto that dais, scanning his surroundings warily.
A staircase to his left fell away into a vast, shadow haunted hall stretching away into the distance. Thick columns to either side rose to a nest of tiered balconies high overhead. Hulbard had never seen anything like them before but they had clearly been arranged to overlook the hall and if he focused hard enough, he could just make out marble stairways winding between them.
His eyes were drawn lower to the hall itself and he paused to take in the sight before them. The Temple was easily big enough to house more people than he'd seen in most towns. Hulbard guessed over two thousand people could have attended any sermons in the place to judge from the seating he saw.
Row upon row of rosewood benches had been arranged around a long rectangular altar at the heart of the hall. Hulbard spent a long moment scanning their dusty surroundings before descending the staircase and striding towards the congregation of benches. His companions fell in around him, all eyes and moving warily. He kept a close watch on the balconies overhead for movement, already plotting escape routes in case they were ambushed from on high. As they drew closer to the middle of the hall, he spared the altar a glance and something about it caught his attention. Lit by the orange glance of nearby candles in raised stands, it was a sickly papery colour instead of the gleaming marble he'd toom it for from further away and as he studied it, Hulbard began to take note of its unusually smooth curves. It took him a long second to realise he was staring at bone instead of a stone block.
"The altar is bone," he announced, his words loud in the ancient, brooding silence of that place, "Anyone care to hazard a guess what it's from?"
He came to a stop just in front of the massive bone altar and dragged his eyes away from it to scour their surroundings for anything out of place while Quintus approached.
"It's all one solid piece," the Sorcerer said in a soft tone, "Looks a little like a femur, if I had to guess".
"From what?" Hulbard muttered.
"That, I couldn't say," Quintus shrugged his spindly shoulders, "Maybe we should ask the hunter".
"You're not going to like what I think," Knox winced.
"Might as well tell us anyway, I don't like most of what's going on here as it is," Shankill said.
"Well, I don't know what it could be fr but it looks more like a fingerbone than a femur to me," the archer said.
Quintus snorted loudly.
"Well, it's not rounded enough at the ends to be a femur," Knox said helplessly, "It's not knobbly enough to connect to a hip bone either".
"He has a point," Trastgor said, lifting the finger bones around his own neck with a soft rattle.
"Whatever it is, they were using it as some kind of altar from the looks of things," Knox added running a hand along its smooth surface.
"Anyone else think it's strange there's two altars in one hall?" Hulbard asked.
"My guess is that the one back there was what they were using before everything went downhill," Shankill gestured back the way they'd come, "Then it looks like they rearranged the place to start using whatever this thing is after things started to… get weird".
"Anyone know what has hands that big?" Skye asked, staring at the massive fingerbone.
Silence greeted her question.
"Whatever is was, I never want to meet another one like it," she shuddered, "What do we do now?"
"If I were someone of importance around here, I'd be up there somewhere," Quintus pointed to the balconies overhead with his staff.
"That's where we're going then," Hulbard said.
They found a staircase nestled into the wall behind one of the pillars after a little probing and, with weapons to hand, they began their winding ascent. Stained glass windows let in a flood of distorted light at every landing they passed, bathing the area in a shivering sea of surreal colour that stung Hulbard's eyes. Ignoring any path that led down, they soon reached one of the balconies overlooking the expansive hall below. It was joined to the next in line by a wide walkway flanked by tall, artfully wrought railings. Each platform, whether round of rectangular, was connected to the next and ringed with stone balustrades. They found more seating on the balconies, ancient chairs and benches all angled towards the bone altar rather rather than the stone one. There were also a dozen more tall candleholder scattered along the balcony, though many stood empty.
Plenty of rooms opened out onto the balconies but they all proved to be small, dingy and sparsely furnished at best. They moved along the balcony in a loose pack, their movements slow and purposeful as they searched for a way higher. The entire Temple was shrouded in stillness and silence save for their clinking armour and rustling clothes.
The vast and empty hall reminded Hulbard of a tomb and as he poked his head into empty room after empty room, Ailasin's story came back to him, making Hulbard wonder where the masses had disappeared to after seeking sanctuary in the Temple to their false God. There was no evidence of habitation within those vaulted hallways, recent or ancient, and that realisation only served to gnaw at his fraying nerves.
As he passed one of the few windows made from regular glass, Hulbard peered outside, across the rooftops of Dalághast. Looking lower, he saw a small courtyard overflowing with overgrown plant life secreted within an upper tier balcony on the outer wall of the temple itself. Leaving the window behind, Hulbard turned into a wide hallway of gleaming marble tiles. They were webbed with veins of blue and grey colouring to create a lavish pattern on the ground ahead. Ahead, a staircase against the wall to his left led up to the floor above.
"Over here," his voice was pitched low but it still felt unnaturally loud in that space.
His companions fell in around him but as they approached the foot of the staircase, Trastgor hissed at them to stop. Hulbard looked back to see the Kurgal standing stock still, his ears swivelling, while Knox loomed at his shoulder, brows furrowed. That was when he heard it too; the slow and purposeful rattle of armoured footsteps. Hulbard looked back up the marble staircase as three figures stepped into view, scarcely thirty paces distant.
They were each clad in a suit of gleaming silver armour surmounted by a hound faced helm. Their armour was nothing short of magnificent l; each and every plate was decorated in one way or another with faded gold enamelling, from edging to elaborate forest scenery and it was all only highlighted by the long, faded red cloaks they wore. All of them were taller than Hulbard by at least a head, though still slim even in their armour. Each Knight carried a long bladed sword in their right hands and a compact kite shield in their left. As one, they took a step forward and began to descend the stairs.
"Shit!" Shankill hissed.
Without warning, a lance of sapphire light slashed through the air above Hulbard's head. It struck the lead Knight's shield and was deflected into the marble rail, where it blasted chunks of stone into the air. All three Knights lifted their shields and quickened their lockstep march down the staircase. An arrow skittered across one shield and a second bolt from Quintus crashed into the stairs just ahead of them, spraying shards of marble into the air. It was just enough to throw the trio off balance, to break their line and give Hulbard the perfect opening to charge up the staircase with a snarl. Trasgor fell into step by his side as if they'd rehearsed the charge a thousand times before.
Hulbard's target, the middle Knight, jerked backwards with surprising speed and got his shield up in time to deflect and raised his shield to catch the hammer's first swing and knock it wide. Before Hulbard could recover the swing, a sword swept into view and its tip punched into his breastplate with enough force to shove him backwards. He fumbled his footing, slipped and only just ducked under a swing that would have taken his head off. Before he could recover his balance he was charged off his feet by one of the Knights and sent tumbling head over heels down the staircase. He tripped Knox along the way and they both crashed into the hallway floor a moment later with a cacophonous rattle.
Catching a hold of Knox's shoulder, Hulbard flung the man to one side and sat up in time to see Trastgor driven back down the stairs under a flurry of well timed blows that kept the Kurgal back pedalling. The Knights moved with eerie calm and fought in chilling silence, every strike precise and measured.
"Move!" Quintus barked and Trastgor turned in a heartbeat to vault the rail.
He fell the five feet to the floor below and landed in a crouch just as Quintus thrust his hands forward. A torrent of fire roared over Hulbard's head. It bellowed up the staircase to engulf the Knights in a swirling tide of ethereal flame. Hulbard flung up a hand to protect his eyes from the migraine bright explosion of light and, when they died, he had to blink the after image from his vision. The three Knights still stood upon the steps where he'd last seen them with smoke coiling from their armour, crimson cloaks aflame but ignored.
"I need time," Quintus snarled, tossing his staff to Skye and reaching for the leather pouches at his side, "Sixty seconds".
"You got it," Hulbard growled, heaving himself to his feet.
The hammer hung loose from the leather thong around his wrist and he eased his fingers around the moulded grip, squeezing tight against the adrenaline surging through his veins. Lightning bloomed across his gauntlets, snapping and crackling into vibrant life. With his heart pounding fire through his temples, he rushed back up the staircase with a low, mindless growl of fury.
The middle Knight lifted his shield but this time, when the hammer landed, it exploded in a blast of lightning that threw the warrior back a step. Ducking beneath a thrust, his hammer lashed into the knee of the Knight to his right, snapping it with a gut wrenching crunch.
His left fist snapped out and caught the Knight to his left a glancing blow across the snout of his helm. Lightning bloomed, flinging his foe back a step with a crackle of discharging force. Teeth bared into a twitching, rictus grin, he swung left and right with all the strength he possessed. A sword skittered across his pauldron. Another slashed into his hip, spraying sparks, but it was nothing compared to the lightning crackling across every inch of his armour. Trastgor leapt into the gap on his right, Hulbard's shield held high and his heavy blade chopping.
His hammer pounded against shield and armour. It caught swords midstroke and battered them aside with an explosive thunderclap of force. Shrouded in a haze of pain and driven upwards by animal instinct honed in a hundred battles, Hulbard's armour blazed with incandescent light as he summoned every ounce of energy he could from the gems embedded into his armour. They glowed and sizzled against the cold air as he fought.
His muscles were burning but only dimly felt. He dodged what he saw coming and leaned into what he didn't at the last possible second. Even against his armour though he felt the force of each stroke from their opponents. Every blow that landed tore a grunt of pain from his lips. His mind was keeping up, but only just, gauging his surroundings. The Knight on his right was limping badly on his broken knee. The warrior of his left was occupied with driving Trastgor back, and the Kurgal wouldn't last long under the assault.
Hulbard drove the centre Knight back under a vicious flurry of blows before spinning his hammer mid stroke to plunge the spike opposite its flat head into the chest plate of the warrior to his right. A gasp echoed through his helm but Hulbard had already released the hammer, slid his hand through the leather thong around his wrist and lunged into the Knight on his left, shoving him into the wall. Catching the rim of his shield in one hand, Hulbard used all his weight to drag it down and smashed his free fist into the Knight's helmed head with all the strength he could muster.
He thought he heard Quintus yelling in the far distance but paid the noise no heed as he hit the Knight again and again. Trastgor's hand slapped down on his shoulder and lightning bloomed, surging through the Kurgal's body, but he still managed to haul Hulbard off balance just as a haul of blinding purple light lanced up the staircase. The centre Knight flung up his shield but these projectiles punched right through it to slice into the armour figured behind. Gouts of blood splashed across the marble steps behind him, spraying from wounds that had burrowed clean through the warrior's body. A bestial scream echoed within the helm as the Knight fell. More lances of light slashed past Hulbard to fell the second Knight he'd battered with his fist, carving deep gouges through his armour and flesh. This one fell without much more than what sounded with a startled gasp.
That left the third Knight, prone on his back with Hulbard's hammer embedded in his chest. Breathing hard, faint and nauseous, he plodded across to the figure, planted his booted foot on its neck and reached down to pry the spiked end of his warhammer free of the punctured chest plate. He twisted his foot at just the right time to snap the Knight's neck as the weapon came free. Lightning played across his armour, slowly dying away as he let the power surging through his body dissipate, but when he stood back upright, his entire world seemed to tilt. Head swimming and heart hammering so hard it felt fit to burst, he swayed drunkenly to one side and half collapsed against the stone railing.
"Hulbard!" Trastgor snapped, lunging for him.
The Kurgal helped lower his bulk to the steps and, when Hulbard swatted at his helm, helped drag it off for him. Blinking in the harsh light, Hulbard gulped down air as his vision pulsed with purple light. He only dimly realised he was drooling and lifted a hand to wipe his chin, but he only succeeded in nearly cutting his own throat with the prongs over his gauntlet.
"He doesn't look so good," Skye's voice drifted down to him.
"No," that voice was Quintus', "He doesn't".
The Sorcerer crouched down over him and snapped his fingers in Hulbard's face to get his attention.
"How are you feeling?" the old man asked, "Any nausea? Bright lights?"
"I'm good," Hulbard growled drunkenly, "Never better".
Habut made him look down at himself to assess the damage of his latest battle;there was a notch in his breastplate tight over his heart where the tip of a sword had sank deep into the metal, chipping it. A long gouge cut across his left hip where another had nearly found its mark and some of the prongs on his left bracer had been sheared away. Hulbard could scarcely recall anything about the fight, but he knew enough that only one fact mattered. He hadn't been cut. Nothing had made it through his brother's armour. Slapping a hand down on the stone rail, Hulbard used it to haul himself upright. Every muscle in his body was still twitching and trembling after the surging electrical storm he'd used to fight the Knights.
"Good fight," he gasped, clapping Trastgor on the shoulder.
"Good shield," the Kurgal hefted the broad one Hulbard had given him, "Saved my hide".
"It'll do that," he grimaced, stooping to pick up his hammer from a pool of blood flowing from the ruined figures strewn across the staircase.
Lifting it to the light, he scowled when he saw one corner of the hammer's heavy head chipped and black marks across its surface where lightning had scorched the metal.
"I'd bet I still look better than this old thing," he muttered dryly, rubbing at its chipped surface.
He was about to say more when the clang of a great bell somewhere high overhead stopped him cold. The sound rumbled through the cavernous main hall like thunder and echoed down every corridor until Hulbard could feel it in his bones. He glanced at Trastgor, then Knox and Quintus, to see each of them looking as surprised as he felt. When the sound began to fade away, it was replaced by a soft, almost imperceptible rushing noise that reminded him of running water in the distance. Hulbard could only barely hear it over the high pitched ringing in his ears, but he could see the looks of confusion on his companions' faces. Quintus led the way up the staircase to a balcony beyond and leaned over the rail to look down into the hall below. Joining him, Hulbard watched as the shadows beneath the pews seemed to deepen and darken all on their own. They flowed together like tar, darkening the Temple floor until it had completely surrounded the bone altar.
"What now?" Hulbard snapped but no one had an answer for him.
They watched the dark shadows rise to consume the pews, coalescing together into the vague semblance of humanoid shapes in the seats. They formed a sea of indistinct shapes below that sent a chill down Hulbard's spine. As one, a sea of faces turned to look up at the intruders. There was a singular moment of utter stillness before the darkness below flooded together into a surging tidal wave of living shadows hurtling towards the staircase below.
Hulbard gulped and ran. They bolted down another wide corridor leading away from the nest of balconies and sprinted along a series of vaulted corridors. Like the gurgle of water over a distant ledge of the wind keening through a cleft boulder, the roaring sound of pursuit began to grow louder in their wake. They rattled up a winding staircase and spilled into yet another hallway. Tall windows lined the right hand wall, illuminating a tall rosewood door thirty paces distant. They thundered down the gleaming marble tiles as fast as they could and as they drew closer, Hulbard saw the doors standing ajar ahead of them. Gasping for breath, he cast a glance over his shoulder and felt his blood run cold.
A mass of darkness spilled up the staircase behind them, roiling like a cloud full of thunder. He caught a glimpse of glinting teeth, empty sockets and reaching hands before turning back to the hallway. The sight lent fresh strength to his seating muscles and Hulbard charged ahead, arms pumping by his sides and breath rasping in his throat.
Shankill reached the doors first and flung one side wide. Hulbard slid through after him and dragged the rest of his companions through the opening before slamming the door shut behind them with a resounding thud. Pressing his shoulder against the heavy wood, Hulbard glanced around the room they'd stumbled into. Light spilled through a tall window to the right, illuminating the room in a patchwork haze of muted colours. He saw desks and chairs, bookcases and shelves, a metal staircase spiralling up to a second landing overhead against the opposite wall to the door. Of all the things his gaze raked across in a frenzied heartbeat, he didn't see a way out of the room.
Hulbard flinched as he felt something suddenly press against the door at his shoulder and he dug his heels into the marble tiles, bracing every sinew in his body against it. It wasn't a blow, it was an inexorable pressure that seemed to build with each passing second. It didn't rattle and crack under tremendous blows, but it groaned and creaked instead. Trastgor rushed to his side and flung his back against the impromptu barricade and they both gasped and hissed as they heaved against it.
Beyond the thick wood, Hulbard heard the sound of maddened whispering. Even above his laboured breathing, he could hear the sound of broken nails scratching at the wood. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Knox already dashing around the room, looking for a means of escape. Quintus was rifling through his pouches with Skye by his shoulder, while Semekt was coiled nearby, weapons drawn and ready, eyes focused on the door. Shankhill, naturally, stood uselessly behind the Dramaskian.
Glancing down, his eyes settled on a pair of iron handles in the door. Keeping as much pressure on the door as he could, Hulbard fumbled the chain mace from his belt and slid its haft through the handlebars, wedging it in place. The doors were thick and strong, but the force pressing against it was a blot on his memory, a seething darkness that left him feeling cold all over. Leaning back from the door, he watched it strain inwards under the foul weight of whatever the Temple had summoned to hunt them down. He grabbed the nearest desk and slid it into place across the doorway and was just reaching for another when he heard Knox call from the landing overhead.
"Here!" he yelled, "Someone help me".
Hulbard was first up the staircase, which rattled loudly under his weight. Exhaustion clung to him like a shroud, but he forced himself upwards all the same until he stood on the balcony. He saw Knox ahead crouched by a broken panel of wood in the wall with a pile of yellowing bones at his feet. He was tearing at the wooden panel and as chunks of it came free more bones spilled out onto the floor.
"There's a crawlspace," the hunter hissed.
"Stand back," Hulbard growled, giving Knox just enough time to obey before the bloodstained spike on his hammer smashed into the panel, punching through into the space beyond with a jarring crack.
Levering against it, Hulbard tore a chunk of the wood away from the wall and stood back as a fresh deluge of bones clattered out onto the landing. It only took a glance to see that they were all human remains, but he did his best to ignore that fact as he scooped them out of his way, widening the dark portal before them.
"What the fuck?" Knox muttered, watching them tumble past.
Hulbard poked his head through the opening, which was just wide enough to admit his bulk if he turned sideways, and looked around a crawlspace only three feet wide at most. Reaching out a hand, he pressed it against the opposite wall, but it was solid stone. Looking down, he saw a sea of bones. To either side were varying depths of darkness but above he saw a thin sliver of light. Drawing back, he quickly unslung his backpack and peered over the metal rail to see Shankhill and Trastgor working to barricade the door.
"We have a way out," he called to the room at large, "It's a tight squeeze, but we'll need to climb it. I can see light a floor or two up from the looks of it".
"That's fine, let's just get out of here before that thing gets in here," Knox muttered, already preparing himself for the climb, "I'll go first".
The hunter slipped through the opening and quickly disappeared from sight as he began to climb. Hulbard secured his pack around his left shoulder, wincing as the gold within dragged against him, but he knew it wouldn't fit otherwise. Just as he was tightening the last strap, Shankill arrived by his side, wild eyed and panting. He made to duck through the opening but Hulbard caught his arm and shoved him back a step.
"I'll go next," he growled.
Behind Shankill could respond, Hulbard slithered through the shattered panel and into the crawlspace beyond. Bracing his knees and hands against the opposite wall, he shimmied his back into place against the one he'd just passed through and began to awkwardly climb. The pack dragged against his shoulder, weighing him down but he worked against it with grit teeth, shuffling his way higher and higher in that claustrophobic, dark space. Above him, Knox was quicker and more nimble, but huffing and panting loudly under the weight of his own pack. As soon as he cleared the opening, he paused to catch his breath and watched Trastgor clamber into view below.
Growling against his own trembling muscles, Hulbard continued the climb inch by painful inch. His armour scraped against the walls, filling the space with the screech of rasping metal as he made his way higher and higher. Hulbard found few handholds in that darkness so he was forced to rely on his own waning strength. Unbidden, an image of Yantis flashed before his eyes, sword flashing from the dark to set his heartbeat pounding. Gasping for breath, Hulbard quickened his pace, climbing until he heard knox's voice, tense and quiet, over his head.
"Hulbard! I need your hammer".
Gritting his teeth against the effort, he reached down to his waist and fumbled the weapon free of its hook there. As he shifted his position, though, he felt the pack of gold shift and suddenly slip down the length of his left arm. He tried to grab the strap as it slipped past his hand but before he could stop it, the backpack full of gold fell into darkness. It only narrowly missed Trastgor and he saw Shankill lunge for it but he was too slow. The gold disappeared into the dark below and crashed into the bones waiting down there with an unmerciful rattle.
"Fuck!" Shankill snapped.
Ignoring him, Hulbard stretched his arm overhead and Knox took it from him. Using what little space he had, the archer hooked its spike into the gap in the opposite wall Hulbard had spotted form below and levered against it. Precariously balanced above the drop, Hulbard blinked sweat from his eyes as he listened to the sound of splintering wood overhead. Light spilled across Knox's features as he worked to widen the hole. He suddenly paused, pulled the spike free of the hole and hunched forward to peer through it. His eyes widened a heartbeat before he ducked. A glittering sword stabbed through the opening and into the opposite wall, spraying splinters and chips of stone. Snarling, Knox scurried through the widened hole as soon as the blade was withdrawn. Hulbard cambered the last few feet to follow and hauled himself over the ledge into a spacious chamber. With his legs still dangling over the crawlspace, he caught a glimpse of an armoured foot nearby and reached for it. Hooking his hand into the back of the armoured ankle, he dragged it out from under the Knight and brought him crashing to the ground with a momentous crash.
Kicking off from the back wall, Hulbard slid into the chamber and onto the dog helmed Knight, who was fumbling for their sword. Snarling, Hulbard wrestled with them on the floor, doing everything he could to pin the figure down. Footsteps behind and then a hand slapped down on Hulbard's shoulder. Before he could do anything, he was lifted clean off his knees and suddenly sent sailing into the air. Throwing up his arms to protect his head, Hulbard crashed down into a table and it snapped in half under his weight.
Groaning, he looked up in time to see a second Knight marching towards him. Throwing up his left arm, Hulbard sighted along the remaining prongs in his armour and reached for the power within the armour. Lightning briefly sparked into life before harmlessly dissipating. The fact that the gemstones had run dry just had time to crystallize in his mind before the Knight was sideswiped by Semekt. Beyond, he saw Knox on the back of a third Knight, teeth bared and dagger in hand as he tried to work the blade into his foe's neck. The Knight Hulbard had first felled was just finding his feet when a fresh volley of searing purple light slashed into him, scything through his armour with ease of spray blood across the marble tiles underfoot.
Fumbling his way back to his feet, Hulbard spotted his hammer on the ground nearby and lunged for it, scooping it up. Hefting it, he raced towards the Knight occupied by Knox and brought him down with a few swift blows to the chest and gut, before the hunter's knife slid between pauldron and gourget to slice into flesh beneath. With a wet gurgle, he collapsed sideways onto the floor. By the time Hulbard whirled on the final Knight, they were already prone on the ground. Semekt was leaning down over the corpse, trying to work her scimitar free of where they'd found their marks between the armoured plates.
There was a dull crash as Trastgor overturned a bookcase to cover the hole in the wall, before the Kurgal flopped onto the ancient wood, shoulders heaving for breath. Heart still thundering in his temples, Hulbard dropped his hammer to the floor with a clang and reached for the canteen hanging from his waist. He took a long draught of cool water, drinking deep, before heaving out a sigh.
"The gems are spent," he grunted.
"Bad timing," Knox remarked, gesturing ahead, "Because it looks like we're starting to make some progress".
Hulbard surveyed the chamber for the first time since he'd crawled into it. It was an expansive area littered with several desks and accompanying chairs, with a recessed doorway to one side that he seemed led back out into another series of hallways. Ahead though, a short marble corridor led to a tall door of polished, dark wood engraved with more images of canines leaping beneath a radiant moon.
"That looks promising," Shankhill said, "Nice to have some good news with the way things have been going. Especially now that we've lost a pack full of gold".
"You're welcome to go get it!" Hulbard snapped, "Do us all a favour and add your own bones to the pile down there".
"Charming," Shankhill scoffed and Hulbard allowed himself to imagine hitting the man as he turned away.
"Hold still," Skye distracted him, approaching Hulbard from behind.
He grunted in response, but then hissed in pain as he felt her hands parting his thick braids to look at the skin beneath.
"Quintus," she called and something about how calm and cold her voice was sent a chill down his spine.
The Sorcerer joined his Apprentice behind the warrior and together they began to examine the back of his head. Hulbard's fingers curled into fists as red hot pain bloomed across the back of his skull. Every touch, no matter how subtle, felt like a nail being driven into his head.
"How have you been feeling lately?" the old man asked grimly.
"Sore," he grunted, jerking his head away from their prying hands and turning to face them.
"Little wonder," Quintus told him, "The back of your head looks like you were kicked by a horse. There's a lump back there the size of my fist and the skin is split open".
"It might be starting to get infected," Skye added hesitantly, but she fell silent under a glare from the warrior.
"It's been sore ever since the Roost," he told them, "The Library didn't make it any better. Whatever that thing did to me left things all muddled".
He could see the gears turning behind Quintus' eyes and the concern in Skye's worried glance, and didn't much like the look of either.
"Recharge the gemstones later," he said, "Let's get this key first and get somewhere safe before we're eaten by something".