Autumn, 1372

The guards garrisoning the outer outposts of Kavi had seen many strange peoples pass by on their way to the underground city. They did not however expect to glimpse what they saw this twilight, when a massive wagon drawn by oxen and escorted by a trio of figures moved up to the wooden blockhouse. Immediately all five guards were on alert, drawing their arms and keeping a wary eye on the newcomers.

“Glory to the Earth! Who goes there?” The captain of the guard came out to confront the travelers.

A large, stocky traveler removed the hood of his cloak.

“It is I, Rabia Smals of Stanton, here to join the chosen with my comrades.”

Mentioning the city got everyone’s attention. Everyone had heard about what had happened in the River Triangle. Rumors had flown like the wind over how the wealthy, supposedly charmed settlement was suddenly destroyed by the dragon that had once protected it. For weeks there were refugees streaming out of the region, seeking shelter, seeking protection, seeking a new life.

The Miscabbards of Kavi had standards however.

The captain of the guard grunted and folded his arms. “Oh?” He sarcastically quipped. “Only ten thousand of the most powerful and effective members of the cult itself are able to even enter the sacred city, and what makes you think you could just arrive at the center of Miscabbard power and join the ranks of the chosen ones?”

“This.” Rabia lifted his torch and shined it onto the large wagon behind him. There, barely visible in the glow of a torchlight, a massive bronze dragon lay sprawled on the carriage bed, shackled, muzzled, and chained to sides of the wagon that barely contained his massive form. A large collar around the creature’s neck restrained its head to the bed of the vehicle, while a muzzle prevented the dragon from opening his mouth fully or breathing fire.

Despite being blindfolded, the monstrous wyrm turned angrily towards the guards andshook at its restraints, causing the entire transport to violently creak and shake.

The captain silently mouthed. “Glory to the Earth.”

The other two figures appeared out of the increasing darkness, uncovering their hoods to reveal a man and a woman. They forcibly smacked the dragon on to snout, making it recoil and stop as Rabia continued. “This is the Stanton Dragon. It cost us heavily in lives to subdue it. We are taking it to the Lord of the Earth to have it destroyed in the most gruesome fashion possible. I’m sure you people know how to dispose of monsters properly.”

The captain turned an eye suspiciously on the trio, pointing to the thus far silent, bearded figure.

“You are the Forester of Stanton.”

“Correct.” Logan replied.

“Why did you turn against your guardian?”

The Forester breathed deeply. “The guardian suddenly turned against us. It destroyed Stanton. It killed many of my friends and neighbors. We thought we could control the dragon, or at least keep it happy, and have it protect us. That was indeed the case for decades. And then it snapped, killed hundreds of people, and destroyed everything we had built up for 50 years. I don’t know what happened, but we can’t risk it remaining around anymore.” Logan looked to the ground. “We have to kill it.”

There was a long silence, before the captain nodded. “It is good that you admit fault, trying to make pacts with demons. You deserved everything you suffered.”

“Perhaps we did. Glory to the Earth. Death to the monsters.”

“Glory to the Earth! Death to the monsters!” All the cultists mechanically chanted in response.

“Glory of the Miscabbards!”

“Glory of the Miscabbards!”

Rabia folded his arms. “We await your decision.”

After a brief pause, the captain nodded and alerted the messenger to move. “Very well, I will alert Heylel to your arrival and your gift.”

***

The news traveled through the ranks of the Miscabbards like lightning. The legendary Stanton Dragon had been captured! The Forester of Stanton was sending it to the sacred city to be sacrificed by the Lord of the Earth!

Even to the cultists, this was an amazing coup- a famed monster brought before their doorstep. Soon enough, a large contingent of heavily armed cultists arrived at the blockhouse where Logan, Liza and Rabia remained waiting. Many of the Miscabbards filing in were not dressed in cloaks, but in half-plate armor, wielding pikes and swords.

“Crusaders.” Liza muttered.

“What?” Rabia asked.

“They’re the military order of the Miscabbards. Minor lords and second sons and also warrior mercenaries and veterans of the wars. They are some of the most powerful units outside of the Imperial forces and the garrisons of Caldern and Alba, and they are said to be fanatically loyal to the Lord of the Earth.” The Guester eyed the newcomers suspiciously. “I think we got the attention of the Miscabbard leader. ”

Then a smooth, almost unnatural cloaked figure with a jet black goatee and blazing eyes walked in and greeted Logan.

“Glory to the Earth, Forester of Stanton. I am Heylel.”

“Are you the Lord of the Earth?”

“No, I am the personal representative to the Lord of the Earth. The Great Lord does not tend to interact with mere mortals. But you and your gift are special indeed.” The Miscabbard spokesman stared at the bound dragon glowering in front of him. Gently, Heylel reached out and touched Meratezatgh, triggering an angry response that Logan and Liza quickly put a stop to. The representative smiled.

“We can take it from here.” He dismissed the Stanton townsfolk. “Rest assured that the beast will die slowly and painfully.”

Logan stepped forward. “No. I lost many friends and neighbors to this beast. This is my monster, and I will see it destroyed.”

Heylel’s smile grew into an uncomfortably vicious grin. “Very well then, Forester of Stanton. We can honor your request.”

***

Now physically pulled and pushed onward by cultist members as well as oxen, the dragon wagon slowly creaked its way up Mount Purim along a winding and narrow footpath wrapping around a series of prominent stone outcroppings. Alongside the two-score movers, another two dozen Crusaders marched along as a guard, while ahead of the vehicle Heylel escorted Logan and his comrades through the maze-like route to the city. The Forester found the defensive system in place was disturbingly impressive, with sentry posts and blockhouses every few hundred feet, defensive parapets and gates carved into the rock and bristling with arrow slits and trapdoors. With a position like this, the cult could hold off an army of fifty-thousand.

“The defenses, while hopefully to be never tested, show the potential scale of the threats that we Miscabbards face in attempting to fulfill our prophecy.” Heylel explained without even looking back upon his charges.

After several hours of travel, the sinuous path finally stopped ascending and both leveled out and widened. At the top, the trio of Stanton townsfolk stopped and gaped at the display in before them: a large plaza filled with long lines of banners and burning braziers, with a gigantic Miscabbard tripod in the center, all leading to a massive, ornate gateway of oak beams cut into the bottom of a large promontory. Surrounding the large brazier were dozens of rotting corpses impaled by stakes: Trasgu, Sabine, Duregaren, pixies and feys, goblins, cynos, harpies and satyrs. There was also the sprawled body of a gryphon, stuck with three poles, displayed directly in front of the giant flaming bowl. Rabia and Liza turned away in disgust at the macabre sight, though Logan forced himself to ignore the moribund display in front of him.

The dead are dead. This whole mockery of a surrender was for a purpose.

Sensing what fate awaited him, Mera again began thrashing violently against his binds, causing the cultists to rush over and tighten his chains before the dragon finally exhausted himself and the convoy continued on.

“Glory to the Earth, Death to the Monsters.” Heylel chanted.

“Glory to the Earth, Death to the Monsters!” The other cultists repeated.

“Glory to the Earth, Death to the Monsters!”

The group eventually reached the gates, engraved with gilded figures of heavenly forces helped by humans slaughtering demons while a giant stood watch in the center. Two dozen Crusaders armed with pikes stood guard at the entrance, while atop the gate itself bristled a bartizan with machicolations and arrow slits. As Heylel approached, the guards stopped, staring at the prisoner and the personal representative of their leader. After a brief hushed conversation, a few guards ran inside as the others saluted.

“Glory to the Earth, Death to the Monsters!”

“Glory to the Earth, Death to the Monsters!”

Quickly came the cranking sounds of giant winches and the great gates opened, revealing a large, ornate, polished marble-lined Entrance Chamber filled with intricate geometric motifs. Haylel turned and bowed back to Logan, Liza and Rabia.

“Welcome to Kavi.”

---

Eminem - 8 Mile Road

From  Keihound