Posted by Madler on November 13, 1999 at 22:33:35:

In Reply to: The Story of Madler, Chapter One: Death in the Desert posted by Madler on November 13, 1999 at 22:32:02:

> Dobish Lode screamed and tore into another of his men. This soldier's blood joined that of half a dozen others' on Dobish's sword, where it began to trickle down the blade and onto the hilt, soaking his hands with the red stain of life. The faithful soldier fell off Lode's blade and lay next to the other slain followers, where the scavengers of the desert descended upon him, heedless of the living men standing not five feet away. Dobish emerged from his murderous frenzy as a confused and maddened man. The desert was in rare form: overcast and very dark, the clouds which had rolled in that morning were thick and black. Dobish had a queasy pang in his chest...often somehow an indicator of rain. Turning to the next soldier in the silent phalanx which faced him, he repeated his order.

> The tavern population was sparse this night. Darl, the bartender, was there, Ven was in the back room cooking, Leraine was cleaning tables over and over... The only patrons were a few members of a lesser-known guild holding a secret meeting in a dark corner, and Madler, the local gleeman. Outside, a storm waged its war on the earth, pelting it with rain and hail and burning trees on hilltops with fierce barrages of lightning. It was a very large thunderclap, in fact, which sent Madler jumping to his feet. Leraine had been conversing with him when she started at the unnaturally loud noise and fell to the tavern floor. Madler offered his hand, concern sprawled across his face.
> "Are you well, my lady?" he inquired, helping her to stand.
> "Yes, Madler. Thank you," Leraine brushed her hair from her face with a wet palm, soaked from the ale she had been carrying to the back table where the guild members spoke. "I need to refill these... I'll be right back."
> Madler looked at the ground, brushing the spilled ale around the floor with his toe. He marveled at the power of nature and thought of what it could do. What it was doing now.
> When he glanced back up at the peripheral sight of a large flash of lightning, a man burst through the door to meet his gaze. Wind and rain flew in, stinging Madler's exposed skin. Madler squinted toward the door.
> The man shut the door behind him and thunder rumbled in the distance, accompanying the lightning Madler had just seen.
> "Hail, friend. What do you seek in New Thalos?" asked Madler, cautiously.
> "We... all died... in the desert. All.. of us.." cried the man, falling to pieces. Madler took his arm and led him to a table, signaling to Darl to bring him ale. The sorrowful man's sobs rose and fell with the sound of the rain beating on the roof of the tavern.

> "Soldier... scout out that cave..." Dobish breathed heavily, awaiting the man's response. He had a good idea what it would be already, and his heart sank even as he heard it.
> "No, sir," the trembling footman jittered.
> Refusal to follow a direct order. Punishable by death. Dobish Lode erupted with an anguished cry and lunged forward to end this soldier's life quickly. It was painfully easy, the soldiers never put up any kind of defense... they simply remained in place and received the death they'd earned. Lode buried his head in his bloodied hands. Why were his faithful men doing this to him? None of them explained... They were quite stubborn about the details of their strange and terrifying behavior.
> Dobish couldn't understand. His men preferred death to a simple mission. They had never been mutinous or insubordinate before, and Dobish loved them for it. He'd trained his men well, and they always followed orders. Until today. He wasn't killing them as a technicality or to make a point... it was a matter of honor. His brigade followed a strict charter, and justice was always swiftly served without bias. Never before, however, had Dobish been forced to kill a member of the group himself. He was deeply attached to his soldiers, and his soldiers loved and respected him. Dobish couldn't allow this to continue...
> "I'll do it myself!" he cried, his voice cracking. A soldier grabbed his arm as he turned, however.
> "I can't allow that, sir."
> "Damn you all! Why not?" tears were poised to pour from Dobish's eyes. He gritted his teeth and fought them back, struggling at the same time to free himself from the soldier's grasp. More of his men came to hold him, trying to protect him from whatever was in the cave...

> Madler studied the man's face as he calmed the newcomer. He shivered and ignored the sensation of staring into an open grave at midnight... The man's features were pasty white and drenched. He looked as though he had traveled a considerable distance in the storm, and by the appearance of his shoes, it had been on foot. The man's eyes were wild, darting back and forth across the room, and his hands twitched nervously. Occasionally his entire body would convulse suddenly, at which time he appeared to be in great pain.
> "All dead... all of us..." he mumbled, slowly calming himself. Darl arrived with two full mugs of ale, and set them softly on the table before Madler.
> "Free of charge, Madler..." Darl whispered carefully.
> Madler nodded his thanks and handed the man one of the mugs. "What do you mean, all of us have died?" he prodded.
> The man's gaze turned skyward, and he seemed not to hear the question. Having gotten himself under control, the man began relating his tale to Madler. It was interrupted only by spasms of non-productive coughing, and Madler was pained to hear the man labor so.
> "My army. We marched to cross Araile... My young brother, Tomas, was helping me to lead. He was my advisor on our mission..." the man put his hands to his face as he began to cry, and for the first time Madler noticed the small traces of blood on the man's hands, nearly washed clean by the rain.
> "What was your mission?" asked Madler, trying to change the subject.
> "Our mission... matters not--" the man was caught in a fit of raucous coughing, unable to stop himself. Madler proffered the man's mug of ale, impatient to hear what horrible event had transpired to shake this man so deeply. "My thanks, friend..." he said, still weeping sorrowfully. "My brother was checking a desert spring for clarity, and all of my soldiers and I had been discussing where to camp for the night. The weather was growing evil even as we spoke, so our plans were hastily decided upon. When we turned to the proposed camp site over the desert spring, we saw not a spring but the gaping maw of a dark cave... Tomas was..." the man struggled again to compose himself, gasping for air. "Tomas was unconscious, and unearthly creatures were pulling his body to the opening. We could neither see nor hear the beasts, but we could see their effect on Tomas. Just before... he was dragged from our view... he came to, and screamed as I have never heard a man scream." The man's sobbing convulsions were now too great to be defeated by his shattered will.

> Dobish drew his sword from his last soldier's stomach, wailing as he did so. His mind was broken by this incident, and his body could not find the energy to stand. He fell to his knees, his sword held out before him, jutting into the air and dripping blood. Rain began to fall... They had known what was in the cave! His soldiers knew, and would not tell him. When he tried to save Tomas, they held him back, and yet they would not enter themselves... Their acts had pushed him to take action of his own. Dobish hated himself for killing his men, and he contemplated his own death there and then... He and Tomas had never been as far north as Araile, and were not well versed in the dangers of the vast desert. Most of the soldiers Dobish had assembled were from the north, and apparently knew of some unspeakable horror Dobish and Tomas were ignorant of.
> And now that horror had Tomas.
> Dobish's screams of fury and anguish flew through the air, parting the drops of rain which were burying him alive. Another pained shriek joined his own, and they intertwined in the dark rainfall. Dobish's attention snapped back to the cave, the origin of the sound. Through his tear and water blurred vision, Dobish could tell that the cave was still there... still black, still empty, still the most terrifying thing he'd ever encountered. Spurred on by the thought that Tomas might live on, Dobish Lode pressed into the cave.

> "You killed them all...?" asked Madler, incredulously.
> The man nodded, still weeping. "Every one of them. First... Tomas... he went into the cave... then, my men wouldn't let me..follow.. so I ordered them to enter the cave.. and they would not... so I killed... every one of them!" His voice rose in volume until he was hysterical, thrashing his limbs and coughing, tears streaming down his red and bloodied face. His ale spilled on the tavern floor.
> "Calm yourself, sir!" Madler struggled to restrain the man, and as he laid hands on him realized that his wounds were great. The man would not survive this storm. Slowly, Madler eased back into his chair and the wild mood of the room took a somber turn. Darl and Leraine were edging closer to the two conversationalists, and Ven was even visible poking his head out of the kitchen. The strange man suddenly sat perfectly still, and composed himself completely.
> "I cannot mourn. Their time has passed, as has mine. Life... has no meaning for me, and it has not been a friend to me. I have no use for life, as life obviously has no intention of using me. When I entered the cave looking for my brother, I heard sounds I can't even begin to--" he coughed again... "I can't describe them. They were ghastly, and that shall suffice. Spectral wraiths were flying invisibly around my head, tiny horned denizens of the deepest levels of hell scraped the rock at my feet. In the dark I couldn't see them, but they were most definitely there... I could FEEL them. Deeper I progressed, unable to see but running full ahead. I then felt... I could sense..." a fit of whooping coughs tore at the man's body. His state was deteriorating so rapidly that Madler knew he couldn't stay here long.
> "Sir, you may yet survive... but we must leave this place. The healer--"
> "No! I am already dead, my friend," said the man between explosions of rasping breath.
> And Madler believed him.

> Dobish lay bleeding outside the cave, drinking in the rain with his body. His fragmented mind was unable to comprehend what he had seen inside... All he knew now was how to bring closure to this harrowing episode. Sobbing uncontrollably as he picked his way, crawling, over the bodies of his slain comrades, away from his brother, away from the object of his dread, Dobish Lode tried desperately to dredge up the courage to fulfill his new mission; the mission of his own death. He had seen what had become of Tomas, and now all that was left for him was to complete what had begun in the cave.
> And so in the dwindling hours of his existence on the mortal plane, Dobish found peace with himself as he dragged what was left of his body several miles to the nearest settlement. He realized that he had destroyed himself and his compatriots, and faced with the evil which now consumed his soul...he had one course of action left. But how to die? Dobish hadn't any idea. How.. to.. die? What was the most fitting death for a traitor? For a man with no heart? These thoughts and many more pounded their way through his head...as he died...

> The man's final breath rattled through his chest as Madler sat perfectly still, watching him meet what the bard perceived to be a self-imposed destiny. The rain gave no sign of easing, and lightning continued to explode above their heads. Madler grieved for the man whose death had meant so much...and so little.
> And now, a dead stranger sat before him. The man's dead arm fell from its clutched position at his dead breast, and swung gently at his dead side. And in death, Madler saw peace for the man. Where the man's arm had been tightly pressed, Madler noticed a significant amount of blood. Hesitating only momentarily, he leaned toward the corpse. Darl stepped forward as well. Folding back the man's robe, Madler was taken aback by what he saw. Darl gasped suddenly, and cut off his abrupt breath in amazement. Through the blood, it was rather easy to tell that the man... had... no... heart. Cut from his body messily. Whatever tool was used had sawed through bone, splintering and shattering ribs, and had torn more than cut through the flesh.
> This horrible spectacle was the last thing Madler saw before his own heart broke in two.

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