Chapter VIII: Seeking Shelter

Raising a bare hand against the wind to shield his eyes from the dust blowing across the rocky plateau upon which he stood, Rykoshet ascended to the apex of one final barren hill and halted, his destination in sight. Behind him, his small company saw his pause and also came to rest. The seventeen others who had made the two-day trek across the Meriphataud Mountains with him slowly joined him on the rise and spread out to bear witness to the sight of Castle Oztroja in the distance.

The beastmen which roamed Mindartia laid claim to three fortresses, and of them, Oztroja was the most imposing. Unlike the Orcs or the Quadav, the Yagudo had not chosen to hide from their enemies in intricate caves, underground and deceptive as to their size and strength. The Yagudo had chosen instead to create a stronghold not built, but rather carved out of the mountains themselves. Giant stone spires scraped at the gray sky overhead, the massive base rose up out of the ground itself, connected with the earth from which it had come. From a distance, it seemed Oztroja was a natural occurance, as if the winds and rains may have eroded the rock just the same way that Yagudo might and magic had. The Yagudo had no wish to hide from those who would challenge them, their fortress a stark reminder of their presence and dominion over the area to any who would dare. During the Great War, entire armies had crashed themselves upon the unyielding stone gates of Oztroja, and in the end only a stalemate had been reached. Ever since they had settled in Aragoneu, the Yagudo had been the undisputed rulers of this area, and their castle an impenetrable reminder of that rule..

Today, with a total of eighteen fighters, two-thirds of them unproven on the battlefield, Rykoshet was going to attempt to break down the gates of the fortress which had repelled the assembled might of Windurst decades before.

Decay and Vile were at his side as Rykoshet peered out across the intervening distance. They were hot, hungry, and tired. The two-day journey across Meriphataud had been more treacherous than they had anticipated, and though they had encountered no demons, the beasts of the mountains and natural struggle involved in crossing the barren expanse had left the small company run down. The brown-haired Hume spat upon the ground, clearing dust from his mouth, before speaking. “I fully expect to die in there,” Decay grumbled, putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the whirling sands.

“Good,” Vile replied, “maybe you won’t bitch so much from underground. You know the way things work here, Decay; we follow our leader’s insane demands, even at the cost of our own lives, to work towards the furtherance of the glorious cause of him trying to kill himself.”

Decay and Rykoshet both slowly turned their heads down to glare at the Tarutaru, who stared back up with a completely straight face.

“Moving on . . . “ Rykoshet said, turning his attention back towards the fortress before them, “Decay, take a look out there. Tell me what you see.”

“A tombstone.” Decay muttered bitterly in response. He took a moment, however, to examine the grounds of Oztroja which he could make out, but only shook his head. “It’s a castle, Rykoshet, I see a giant rock. What do you want me to say?”

“Alright,” Rykoshet said, pointing out towards the enormous structure again, “tell me what you don’t see.”

For a long moment, Decay stared out at the castle, the towering spires, the massive gates, the narrow windows and dusty, cracked ground surrounding it. The Yagudo had definitely firmly entrenched themselves here, they were practically a part of the landscape. With Castle Oztroja under their command . . .

That was when it hit him. “The Yagudo.” Decay said softly, then turned to Rykoshet with a mixture of confusion and alarm. “There aren’t any Yagudo in sight anywhere.”

“Right,” Rykoshet nodded, “I don’t care how impenetrable your fortress is, you still leave guards outside, or sentries on the tower. We haven’t even seen a Yagudo patrol go by since we came here.”

“You think the demons got them.” The three turned to see Baeladar standing behind them, his armor frustratingly still gleaming and polished despite the others being nearly encrusted in dirt. The Paladin had long served as the strategist for operations such as these, but in the past the object had always been extraction-oriented; finding a person or item, obtaining it, and escaping. Now he had to plan out how they were going to stake a claim in the most powerful fortress on the continent with a group of rookie fighters, with no idea of what the layout of the structure or the strength of their enemy was. To his credit, he had not balked at the challenge.

“I do.” Rykoshet confirmed, rubbing his hands together, feeling his knuckles crack under his fingers. “If it’s true, Bael, what does that mean for us?”

Baeladar took a small breath, looking away for a moment, and then addressed the question. “For starters, if the demons are here, there’s no reason they couldn’t still be here. If we enter the fortress we could very well find ourselves face-to-face with them. There’s also the possibility that the Yagudo were attacked and so they withdrew their patrols and holed themselves up in there for protection. And then . . .” Baeladar trailed off.

“What?” Rykoshet demanded.

“The third option is that the demons killed the Yagudo and left. If that’s the case, we can easily move right in and make use of the Yagudo stores and supplies, but it also means that there is no reasonable way to defend ourselves should the demons discover our presence and decide to attack.”

If the group were not anxious enough about this course of action, the raven-haired Paladin’s words did little to calm them. At this point, however, there was no turning back. They had survived demons and dragon alike, agreed to follow Rykoshet across the Meriphataud Mountains, and arrived here at the gates of Castle Oztroja. They had managed to lie low, but occasionally they had seen flights of demons wandering overhead, searching for any who still lived. Death might await them within the halls of Oztroja, but it was a certainty outside of them. After a moment more of hesitation, Rykoshet went forward, and the others followed onwards as well.

The gates of Castle Oztroja were as legendary as the castle itself. Rising several dozen feet into the air, they were reputedly thicker than a Galka’s shoulder width, and held fast from inside by iron chains which were the only way to open or close the tremendous doors. Those few who had somehow made their way up to the fort and deigned enter were almost all frustrated in their effort by the problem of breaching those gates. Physical and magical force alike had been futile against them, but occasionally, in rare instances which were likely the stuff of rumor and tall tale rather than truth, the act of guile and stealth had been enough to enter Oztroja. As the group rested, gathering what strength they could for whatever lay in wait for them, Rykoshet counted on those fables to contain a grain of truth while he watched Betrayil scale the great stone walls.

The ninja had accepted the challenge of sneaking inside the fortress, and his feet somehow found traction where it appeared there was only smooth, vertical stone. The others watched in amazement as he bounded up the side of the castle, a black-gloved hand lashing out into the air and grabbing hold of one of the narrow windows through which Yagudo would pepper invaders with arrows. In the same motion, he swung his legs forward, agilely sliding through the abbreviated opening and vanishing from sight. He was inside. On the ground below, Hiraiko looked up at where Betrayil had last been seen, the worry plainly evident in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Odessa said reassuringly. For two days she had been attempting to keep the morale of the group high, and keep their minds off of what they had been witness to or what lay in store for them. “We know what we’re doing. He’ll be fine.”

“What do any of us know anymore?” came Hiraiko’s sad response. The Elvaan woman opened her mouth to respond, but could find nothing.

“We will make it through this.” Odessa finally said. Hiraiko did not reply, but continued staring up at where the ninja had made his acrobatic entrance.

Time seemed to crawl by as the assemblage waited outside. The sun slowly crept into the west, and the group began exchanging worried glances between one another. Just as the shade began to creep across the mountains and usher in the oncoming night, however, they all jumped as they heard an audible “clink” from inside, and then leaped back as the gates groaned, sliding open, yet stopping before coming completely ajar.

“They’re stuck,” they heard Betrayil’s voice come from within, and several audible sighs of relief were heard. “I opened the gates, but it looks like they’ve been purposely jammed.”

“And the Yagudo?” Rykoshet shouted back at him.

“Not a one.” Betrayil’s voice came back. “I don’t think I saw very much of the fortress, but the parts I did were empty. There’s no one here.”

Rykoshet felt a twinge in his stomach at the news, remembering Baeladar’s assessment. Still, there could be no moving back at this point. The only way was forward. “Alright,” Rykoshet said decisively, “Celeres, come here. I’m going to need your help for this.”

“What do you have in mind?” The Monk asked as he stopped in front of Rykoshet. The Elvaan looked him over. He had no idea if Celeres as strong enough for this, but the situation being what it was, he would have to be.

“We’re stuck out here.” Rykoshet said. “Everyone, give me and Celeres some room. The two of us are going to open the doors.”

“What?” Celeres asked, his tone a little surprised. Rykoshet said nothing, but simply clenched his fist, raising it in the air. It did not take long for Celeres to understand. Comprehension dawning on him, he nodded, raising his own fist.

“One on each gate, aim for their centers, arch outwards. Betrayil,” Rykoshet said, even as he began focusing his chi energy into his fist, hearing the roar of blood through his body and the sensation of his power gathering in a single spot, “you’re gonna want to step away from the gates.”

In tandem, the two flew forward, energy crackling in the air around their hands. The air howled as their fists collided with the gates of Oztroja, a visible explosion of energy barreling off of them and sending a cloud of dust funneling back through the others, who had to shield themselves against the force of it. With a tremendous booming noise, the stone gates crashed backwards, swinging open wide and letting the dimmed and fading sunlight pour in to the darkened castle. The others turned in astonishment; the way was open.

“Knock, knock.” Celeres smirked, lowering his hand. The impact had torn the flesh from his knuckles, and blood dripped slowly down his fingers to the ground, but he had succeeded. The gates to Oztroja lay open, and cautiously, the group made their entry into the massive stronghold of the Yagudo.

“Okay.” Rykoshet said once they had all gathered inside. “Stick to the groups we laid out. Odessa, Decay, you take your group to the left. Bael, Dani, head right. Vile and I will take everyone else straight ahead, and we’ll rendezvous on the second floor. Be cautious and keep your eyes open. If you see anything, call out.” Ever since the demons had come, their linkpearls had all either broken or stopped working, but they had not forgotten how to use their voices. “Let’s go,” Rykoshet said with finality, “and when we meet back up again, there’d better still be eighteen of us.”

The groups split up, fanning out in the three directions in which Oztroja sprawled. Rykoshet, Vile, Betrayil, Hiraiko, Middlesky, and Icon all grouped together and began down the cavernous halls of Castle Oztroja. Not only had they carved the outside from the face of the mountain itself, but the inside was that same mountain, hollowed out by the Yagudo’s power. It was definitely a palace, with Yagudo artifacts and artwork on the walls, Yagudo architecture clearly evident in the great staircases and eaves which sprawled throughout the gigantic, echoing space of the entrance hall, but it was also one solid piece; thousands upon thousands of individual features created from a single enormous rock.

The first problem they faced became evident before long. Whatever had happened to the Yagudo, it had extinguished all the torches which lined the great hall. As Rykoshet’s team went deeper inside the fortress and the fading daylight from outside became further and further away, the darkness soon encroached upon them, and it was not long before direction began to lose meaning. They had ventured in quite a ways before it became apparent that they would either have to find light or wait for their eyes to adjust.

“This is ridiculous.” Vile finally said. “Someone light a torch or something, we’re just going to get ourselves lost.”

“I’ve got it,” Betrayil offered, and there was a crackle in the air as a ninja powder was crunched together, the friction combining with the elemental conjuring called forth by the accompanying hand signs the ninja quickly flashed through. The powder ignited, spiraling into the air and remaining there, illuminating the space around them.

“Look.” Hiraiko said with the light on them, her voice laced with worry as she pointed down. They realized that the ground they stood on was smeared with a bright, red blood, and feathers littered the area.

“There has been great violence done here.” Middlesky said suddenly. “This is no demon blood.”

“Does this mean the Yagudo are dead?” Hiraiko wondered aloud.

“We won’t know anything for certain until we can get back into the light.” Rykoshet countered, not wanting to admit the possibility. “Betrayil, how long will – “

The question answered itself before he could finish, as the ninja’s dancing flames slowly started to putter out. “Do not worry,” Middlesky said, drawing forth his slim-bladed rapier as they once again faded into shadow.

“Wait,” Betrayil started to say, and Rykoshet saw the ninja’s eyes go wide with alarm. “Do you hear – “

There was a noise like a log being tossed onto an open flame, and suddenly Middlesky’s sword was ablaze, casting a wide aura of light all around them. The group stood there, in the center of the halo, encircled on all sides by Yagudo. The blue-feathered birdmen had weapons drawn, and a smoldering anger danced in their eyes in the light of Middlesky’s flaming sword. The small band was totally surrounded by Yagudo, and hopelessly outnumbered.

“Rykoshet?” Vile suddenly said, not taking his eyes off of the beastmen who had so long plagued the Tarutaru people.

“Yes, Vile?” Rykoshet responded.

“I just wanted you to know,” he said in a somber, serious tone, “that I really, really hate you.”

“I know, Vile.” Rykoshet replied. “I know.”

And just like that, the Yagudo were upon them.