The Return of the Horde

Dawn of Chaos: Hell Gate - Chapter 1

The Invasion Begins

The demon ignored the screams and turned its back on the crowd in the marketplace. It lifted its axe with one hand and pointed it toward the hellgate. A beam of red light shot from it and vanished into the glowing dome.

The roiling mass inside surged forward. It too now came into focus, resolving itself into rank upon rank of hellish soldiers in red and black armor. Some were human sized, with horns and skin the color of lava, carrying shields, swords and spears. Others were great battle demons, eyes burning with yellow flame and bearing wicked axes and mauls. The latter were large, some ten feet tall or more, with bestial features of all kinds. Some were ursine, some canine, some insectoid, and some looked like nothing the people of Carlissa had ever seen.

They marched through the surface of the dome with military precision. As they did, a dense fog grew around them that darkened the sky and blotted out the sun. They chanted menacingly in a guttural tongue and raised their weapons against the people of the City of Rainbows.

Everyone who could, ran. The guards and clerks were too slow; the advancing soldiers scythed them down like wheat. With frightening speed, the hellish troops formed a ring around the amphitheater, and their captain.

More creatures marched into the city to fill their ranks, and winged demons emerged from the top of the dome. They flew in a tight circle around the growing army. Most of them were smaller than the battle demons that gathered below, but no less grotesque in appearance.

A new group emerged from the shimmering hemisphere. Two figures flanked a tall, thin man in a black cape and armor, carrying an ebon staff. A guard of the smaller, red-skinned invaders surrounded them.

Incanus Thad waited as another winged demon descended to join them. The Horde Captain faced the man and then looked from him to the demon at his right. He clapped one closed claw to the opposite shoulder in salute.

“The beachhead has been established, My Lords,” he said in a booming voice. “There has been no resistance so far. None is yet developing.”

The demon to the man’s right nodded absently. It was smaller than Incanus Thad, not much over seven feet in height, and had an enormous, serpentine head perched atop a long, sinuous neck. A single menacing eye looked out from a bony, ridged forehead.

“That will change quickly enough,” it said, in a voice thick with menace. It turned to the winged demon that had joined them. “Lieutenant Usnaroth, what is your report?”

Usnaroth repeated his captain’s salute. It was larger than the other flying demons, and nearly as tall as Incanus Thad. It had a bat-like head and a powerful, ursine body.

“A few guards witnessed the formation of the gate, My Lord Borr,” it replied. “They have been slain, and no alarm has sounded. We have the element of surprise for now.”

“Let us not waste it,” the man in black said. “Captain, is your strike force ready?”

Incanus Thad looked up. His eyes scanned the demons that circled the dome, and he nodded. “They wait only to follow my lead, Warlord Zomoran.”

“Then let it be as we planned,” Zomoran said. His voice and face were hard as stone, and there was no trace of compassion or pity in either. “Captain, you will take the elite winged demons to the palace to kill the royal family: the King, the Queen, and their three brats. And do make a point to give the elder prince my greetings when you slay him.”

He turned to Usnaroth. “Lieutenant, you will take the rest of the airborne force to scout the city and establish a perimeter. Look for pockets of resistance forming and destroy them before they can become rallying points. The Crimson Slayer will march a battalion of battle demons to the Silver Star to deal with the Archmage.”

Usnaroth and Incanus Thad saluted, claw to shoulder, and took to the air. The flying demons split into two groups and swarmed into their wakes. Their wings beat with a deafening noise, blotting out the sun like a host of enormous bats.

Unlike the others, the demon at Zomoran’s left was largely human in appearance. A tall man dressed all in red, he wore a long sword at his belt, and an ostentatious cavalier hat that sported a crimson plume. His face disappeared in shadow under the brim of that hat, so that none of his features were visible beneath it.

He drew his sword. The blade glowed with evil runes in the waning light. His left hand was ungloved, skeletal, and burned with an impossibly white-hot flame.

“You will be rid of your archmage,” the creature called the Crimson Slayer said. “And remember our bargain, magus. One hundred souls for my blade to feast upon, plus any I may harvest from the battle.”

“You may sate yourself upon the people of the city,” Zomoran agreed. “The rest of your price will be paid on proof of Lenard Killraven’s death.”

The Slayer pointed to the massing troops, and a line of the gathering battle demons stepped forward. Without another word, he strode away toward the southern arch of the amphitheater. The enormous creatures fell into lumbering step behind him.

“That leaves the two of us,” Borr hissed. “As we agreed, I will remain here at the gate to command the invasion. I assume your plans remain unchanged?”

Zomoran raised an arm, and a company of the lava-skinned soldiers behind him snapped immediately to attention. “No change,” he concurred.

He turned to the nearest of the soldiers. It promptly drew a flaming sword and knelt before him.

“We will be paying a visit to the Grand Academy,” Lord Zomoran explained. “The regents are meeting there this morning, and I have unfinished business with them.” A hint of amusement flickered briefly across his face. “I believe that some changes in the administration, and in the faculty, will be in order after today.”

He made a rising gesture with his hands. The officer came to his feet, face hot with anticipation.

“And mercy shall not be required, Colonel Y’Thra,” he added. “Your Hellmen may take spoils as you please.”

The Craftmage’s Flight

The craftmage ran. An icy wave of fear coursed through her as she sprinted toward the gate to the north road. She didn’t look back.

The crowd milled around her in fright and confusion. Some bolted toward the gates as well, and she had to fight not to be shoved aside or trampled. Others watched in horrified fascination at the events unfolding in the amphitheater.

Hellgate, her mind repeated in numb terror. She knew what was about to come through that dome, and what would happen to anyone nearby when it did. She was determined not to be one of them.

She ran through the gate and onto the north road. The streets of Lannamon fanned out before her, curving away from the marketplace in a series of terraced lines to the north and east. They paralleled the firth at ever-increasing heights that rose toward the cliffs surrounding the city.

She took the clearest way she could find to escape. That proved to be the road that rose most steeply into the Upper City to the north. She kept running, heedless of the growing fire in her legs and lungs as she climbed the difficult slope.

She hadn’t gone far before she heard the confusion behind her escalate into panic. Again, she didn’t look back. She knew what she would see if she did: a horde of infernal monsters emerging from the dome to attack the city. Her fears were confirmed when she heard the harsh, militaristic cries and marching of the demonic soldiers. And she heard the screams of gawkers as they finally realized what was happening — and they, too, tried to flee.

She heard a loud buzzing. A winged demon passed overhead, a grisly insectoid figure with mandibles like giant pincers. It veered aside before she could react, turning to fly in a protective ring around the mustering army. She kept running.

A grey fog had formed around the center of the city as the hellgate took shape. Now, as she climbed the sloping road to the north, she ran suddenly through its edge. She blinked as the sun shone brightly around her once again.

The next few minutes merged into a desperate blur. She dodged frantically around startled riders, carriages, and passersby. When she reached the line of the terraces, she raced up the staired walkway into the Upper City.

She ran for as long as she could. When at last she couldn’t continue, she collapsed to the ground. Her chest heaved in great gasps as she tried to catch her breath.

She finally risked a look back. In her mad rush, she had climbed over a hundred and fifty feet above the shore of the firth. She should have had a clear view of the docks and the marketplace below. Instead, she saw a darkening cloud of mist that hung low to the ground, obscuring the amphitheater and everything around it. She thought she could make out the glow from the hellgate shimmering deep within it.

“Miss, are you all right?”

She looked around. She found that she was lying on the steps before the main gate of the Grand Academy of Lannamon. A palace guard was kneeling at her side. He was a young man with a brusque manner, but the concern in his voice sounded genuine.

A dozen people stood nearby. A few were looking at her, while others were staring into the city below. The guard glanced down at the firth and then back to her.

“Did you run all the way up here from the Lower City?” he asked. “Do you know what’s happening down there?”

She nodded helplessly, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. She tried to rise, but her legs gave out beneath her. She fell into a sitting position, leaning hard against the guard’s side. He looked startled and a little abashed by the unexpected contact, but caught her shoulder with a strong hand to steady her. A crowd began gathering around them.

“Attack,” she gasped. “D-demons.”

A woman standing nearby shrieked.

“That’s absurd,” a man snorted derisively. He wore a purple suit of a kind that had become fashionable among the lesser nobility in the last year. “The woman’s addled. There hasn’t been a demon attack in Carlissa in centuries.”

“What do you think it is, then?” another man asked.

He looked down at the cloud below and affected a look of critical evaluation.

“Must be a fire in the marketplace,” he said at last. “They’ll have it put out in no time. Nothing for us to worry about up here.”

The craftmage shook her head. “I’m — I’m not — not addled,” she gasped.

She looked back toward the Lower City. People were running out of the cloud in panic. The distant screams were growing louder.

“Baron Geld is right,” a woman chimed in. She wore the formal robes of an academy professor, and, if possible, her manner was even more disdainful and supercilious than his. “The demons are nearly extinct. There may be a few left, holed up somewhere in the Walls, or in the frozen wastes of Narr-Venn. But that’s thousands of miles away.”

Baron Geld nodded in agreement. “Besides, they couldn’t have approached the city without warning.”

The guard turned to face him. “What about the dragon that attacked the Cathedral a few months ago?” he asked thoughtfully. “There was no warning of that either, and it nearly killed the two princes. If a dragon could sneak up on the city, why not a demon?”

The craftmage shook her head. “It’s not just one,” she said.

The fire in her lungs had finally subsided, and she discovered with relief that she could speak again. She struggled to get up, and with the guard’s support, she rose shakily to her feet.

“And they didn’t need to sneak up on the city,” she added. “They formed a hellgate in the amphitheater.”

“Ridiculous,” the professor countered. “Do you understand what you’re saying? What kind of magic that would require?”

The craftmage glared at her. “Fully,” she retorted.

She held up her left hand and waved it angrily. It was still clutching the amulet she’d bought in the marketplace, its chain wrapped tightly around her singed palm and fingers. Although not as brightly, the bluesteel design shone with the same light as before.

“I’m a craftmage,” she said hotly. “Do you understand what this means?”

“That you’ve got a magic light trinket?” Baron Geld replied derisively.

“It’s preposterous,” the professor repeated. She was looking at the amulet, but her tone had suddenly become uncertain. “Who could summon that kind of magic? Who would want to?”

Icy realization closed like a claw around the craftmage’s heart. The color drained from her face.

“Zomoran,” she whispered. “The demon said it served Zomoran.”

She turned to look at the inscribed lintel above the entrance to the Grand Academy. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, my god,” she said, in a voice of dawning horror. “They’ll come here!”

Renewed panic cut through her exhaustion. She tore herself free from the guard’s supporting hands and stumbled again into the street. She made her way down the road to the east, running as fast as her trembling legs could manage.

The guard started to follow, but then stopped. His orders had been to find out what was going on, and to report back to his lieutenant. He looked after her for a few moments, his face conflicted by indecision. Then he reluctantly made his way back up the stairs and through the academy gate.

Orion’s Caution

The growing commotion outside seemed to be testing even Dame Marjeune’s ability to maintain discipline. A buzz of excited conversations filled the classroom by the garden, but they died abruptly as the guard stepped back in through the door. The lieutenant turned to meet him.

“Something is going on in the city center, down by the amphitheater,” he reported. “A dark cloud’s formed around it, so it’s impossible to see anything clearly. People are running out of it and screaming in panic.”

The lieutenant nodded. “Sounds like a fire in the marketplace,” he said.

“It does,” the guard concurred. “Except for one thing. It was very odd. I met a woman who was running up the street from the disturbance. She collapsed in front of the academy gate. I tried to help her. She looked terrified, and said she was running from a demon attack.”

An explosion of laughter ran through the room. Dame Marjeune, face darkening like a storm cloud, turned to the students and admonished them sternly.

The lieutenant waved his hand in dismissal. “Sounds like a crazy woman. Demons in the city center! What an imagination! Did they just drop in out of the sky?”

The guard shrugged. “She said something about a hellgate,” he continued. “She was carrying some kind of glowing talisman, too. Seemed to think it meant the whole city was about to come under attack.”

Orion’s head snapped sharply around. His eyes fell hard onto the guard’s, who returned his suddenly intense gaze with uncertain surprise.

“Tell me everything you saw and heard,” Orion ordered. “Don’t leave anything out.”

The lieutenant turned to him, clearly annoyed. “It’s only a fire —” he began.

Orion held up a hand. “Most likely,” he interrupted. “But please humor me for now.” He allowed a self-deprecating smile to touch his lips. “If it turns out I’m just being overly cautious, then I’ll buy you and your men a round later to make up for it.”

The lieutenant looked at him with disapproval. Finally, he nodded.

“All right,” he said reluctantly. “Seeing as you’re a scholar who studied under the Archmage and all. And I could do with a pint once we get off duty. Just remember that I’m in command here, not you. If any orders are to be given, they come from me. Clear?”

“Clear,” Orion agreed. “And you’re right, of course, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to challenge your authority.”

He turned back to the guard. “What kind of talisman was it? Was it bluesteel, by any chance, and glowing with a bluish light?”

“Yes, it was,” the guard replied. The lieutenant’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “It was an amulet, with some kind of bluesteel design on it. Shining just like you said. Her hand was burned where she was holding it. She said she was a craftmage, and that it proved what she was saying.”

“What exactly did she say it proved?” Orion persisted. “To whom?”

“One of the professors. She said a hellgate had appeared in the amphitheater, inside the cloud. They were arguing about whether that was possible and how much magic it would take.”

Orion took a deep breath. “What else did she say?” he asked carefully.

“She said she saw a demon, and that it said it served Zomoran.”

“Lord Zomoran of Westreach?” the lieutenant blurted. “The one the Inquisition tried to take for heresy? Who summoned a dragon to attack the Cathedral, and nearly killed the princes?”

The guard shrugged. “I assume so. Anyway, she bolted off again in panic.”

Orion nodded. “She could be suffering from delusions, of course. Light, I hope so. But her story actually makes some sense.”

The lieutenant looked puzzled. “How’s that?”

“A bluesteel matrix with no dweomer imprinted on it will resonate with nearby magic,” Orion explained. “It’s a primitive magic detection charm. To glow so brightly, though — to say nothing of burning someone’s hand — it would have to be reacting to an incredibly powerful spell.”

The guard gaped at him. “You don’t think her story’s actually true, do you?”

Orion shrugged. “I admit it seems far-fetched,” he said. “But whatever is going on involves powerful magic. The glowing amulet proves that, at least. And Zomoran has the power and motive to be behind it.”

“We need eyes on the Lower City,” the lieutenant decided. “Trevane, go back outside and keep watch. If anything new develops, come back here immediately and let us know.”

“Wait,” Orion said, before the guard could salute and run off. “We can do better than that.”

The others turned to him expectantly. He pointed through the open doors to the garden outside the classroom.

“That wall to the south. The academy lawn is right on the other side. I’ve climbed it many times. You can get an excellent view of the city from the top.”

The lieutenant nodded. “Good idea. You and I will go up and get a look at what’s going on. Trevane, you and Jenkins stay on watch down here.”

The guard nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant Caldor,” he said.

The three looked around the room. The class had remained rowdy and distracted after its outburst, and Dame Marjeune seemed to be having little success in quieting them. Some students were joking loudly at the idea of demons appearing in the capital city of Carlissa, while others had resumed their banter and flirting. The noise had allowed Orion and the two guards to continue their conversation uninterrupted, and without being overheard.

“Clever woman,” Orion remarked suddenly.

Trevane frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Dame Marjeune. She’s not really trying to get them under control. She’s just making a show of it so they don’t get suspicious. She’s letting them distract themselves while we figure out what’s going on.”

Caldor grinned. “Good. That’ll keep them out of trouble for now. Let’s get up on that wall and see what we can see.”

He walked toward the garden, and Orion fell into step behind him. Dame Marjeune spared them a momentary glance and an almost imperceptible nod. None of the students seemed to take notice of their nonchalant exit.

The View from the Wall

Orion slipped the toe of one boot into a crevice in the garden wall. He grasped a sturdy vine that ran down its length in one hand and used it to keep his balance. He was familiar with the handholds from his time as a student, and he climbed swiftly. Lacking that knowledge and weighed down by his armor, Lieutenant Caldor labored a good distance below.

The stone wall was fifteen feet high, and he was near the end of his climb. The lip of the wall should be just above him. He reached over his head to grab it.

To his surprise, he felt a hand reach down to grasp his. It was slender but strong, and it helped draw him up. With its aid, he scrambled onto the flat summit of the wall, and turned to look at his unexpected companion.

He saw a tall girl with a long tress of chestnut hair. She wore a knee-length brown skirt of fine material but simple design. It was hiked up around her thighs. She was sitting on the wall’s edge, looking out over the city and kicking her feet absently. Orion was startled to realize that it was the green-eyed student he’d seen earlier.

“About time someone else thought of coming up here,” she said cheerily. She pointed down and to her right. “The wall has a much better view than you can get from the entrance.”

Orion balanced himself to sit next to her. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

“About five minutes. I was curious to see what was going on, and getting impatient for the guard to come back and report. I saw the wall here in the garden, so I sneaked out to climb it.”

Orion studied her. She sat with ease on the narrow ledge. The simple cut of her dress emphasized the lines of a long-limbed, muscular physique. She spoke with just a hint of an unfamiliar and exotic accent.

“Private Trevane left only a few minutes before you came up here,” Orion observed. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “You become impatient very quickly, it seems.”

The girl grinned at him. “Oh, have you noticed that?”

Orion heard a scrabbling noise, and saw Lieutenant Caldor clamber awkwardly on top of the wall beside them. He gripped the stone with white-knuckled hands.

“Hello, Kieran,” the girl said with a teasing grin. “Feeling a bit of vertigo?”

His eyes shot up to look at her, mortified. “What are you doing up here?”

“Apparently, she got our idea before we did,” Orion observed drily. “She’s been watching the city for a few minutes.”

“You shouldn’t be up here, Lady Dal Meara,” Caldor said. His voice was heavy with disapproval.

The girl frowned at him and turned to Orion. “The guards are always so formal and protective around us,” she explained. “Maybe I can get you to call me Diana?”

“All right,” Caldor said impatiently. He nodded his head toward the center of the city. “Since you’ve been up here, let’s have your report. What have you seen?”

Diana turned to follow his gaze. A thick grey pall had settled over the amphitheater, extending around it to cover the marketplace and nearby roads.

“Mostly that,” she said, pointing. “The cloud was already there when I came up here. People have started running out of it, looking really panicked.”

Orion squinted toward the center of the city. His eyesight wasn’t especially strong at a distance, and years of book-reading hadn’t helped to sharpen it.

“The guard said that people on the street thought it was from a fire,” he noted. “What do you make of it?”

“That’s what I thought at first, too,” she replied. “But it’s just sitting there, churning in a slow circle around the tip of the firth. It’s not moving or spreading, and there’s no sign of a flame anywhere. It’s like a storm cloud, hugging the ground over the amphitheater. And there’s some kind of purple glow at its center. You can see it through the mist every once in a while.”

“No demons, though?” Caldor asked. Diana arched an eyebrow at him.

“A woman ran by just after I got up here, shouting something about demons,” she said skeptically. “I assumed she was addled.” She turned back to the center of the city, staring intently at it. “You don’t think …”

“That’s what she told Trevane,” Caldor explained. “Something about a hellgate and a demon horde serving Lord Zomoran.”

Diana grabbed Orion’s shoulder. “Look!” she said, pointing.

“What is it?”

“There are figures circling inside the cloud now. Lots of them. Figures with wings. Something’s happening.”

Orion looked. Even with his modest eyesight — Diana’s seemed a lot sharper than his own — he could see that she was right. Winged figures were flying out of the brume now in all directions, circling into the city in ever widening arcs.

He gasped as a mass of them emerged from the western side of the cloud. It quickly formed into a line, moving with frightening speed toward the palace.

Demons had faded into legend in Kalara over the centuries, but everyone knew the tales and images from the past. There was no doubt what they were seeing.

Orion stole a glance at Diana. Her playful demeanor had vanished, and her green eyes were wide with horror.

“So the woman was right,” Caldor said. His voice sounded weak, as though he were about to be sick. “It’s a demon attack.”

“Yes,” Orion agreed. He fought to keep his voice flat. He didn’t trust himself to let any of the emotion he was feeling into it.

“And the cloud’s finally dissipating,” he added. “It must have been summoned by magic. To cloak the creatures as they arrived.”

Caldor turned to Diana. “You’ve got sharp eyes,” he said. “Now that the mist is thinning, can you make out how many there are?”

“There’s a dome of purple magic in the middle of the amphitheater,” she said. Her voice sounded numb. “I can see ranks of creatures already lined up in formation around it. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. And more keep coming out of it.”

She pointed. “There’s a group of them marching along the south road. Big creatures, most of them, right out of a nightmare. Mostly in red and black armor. And there’s another group taking the north road toward us.”

“Lady of Compassion preserve us,” Caldor whispered.

Screams echoed around them as others saw the scene unfold. A horn brayed nearby, followed by the frantic clanging of the academy’s tower bell.

“This isn’t just an attack,” Orion said grimly. “A demon force like this hasn’t been seen on the eastern continent since the Taming.”

“We need to get down to warn the others,” Caldor said. “There must be defended areas in the academy. We’ll need to regroup there with the staff for protection.”

He swung his legs over the inner side of the wall. Without waiting for an answer, he grasped the vine and began to climb down. He made much better time on his descent than he had on the way up.

Orion turned to Diana. “You should go next.”

“Someone has to stay up here,” she said. “At least a few minutes longer, to watch their movements. I’ve got good eyes. I can do it.”

He shook his head. He pointed to the winged demons that had emerged from the evaporating cloud.

“Those creatures are spiraling out in a rising and widening pattern,” he said. “They’ll be flying passes over the Upper City in a few minutes. It’s not safe to stay up here. You’ll be a target.”

“So when they do, I’ll come down,” she replied stubbornly.

She laid herself, prone, on the top of the wall. “I’ll keep a low profile in the meantime,” she added. “Now get moving! I like Kieran, but he’s not exactly the sharpest blade in the armory. You’ll need to be there to keep him from doing anything stupid.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

She shook her head. “We don’t have time for it. Now go!”

“All right,” he said. “But be careful. And come down at the first hint of danger.”

She chuckled. “Oh, I will. Trust me.”

Orion nodded. Then he swung his legs over the wall’s inner lip and climbed swiftly back down into the garden.

Next: Chapter 2 - The King’s Magic

Copyright 2017, 2023 by Tony Andarian. All Rights Reserved.