The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Alekzandr Ikorov: CXXXVIII

Regret: CXXXVIII

Alekz swallowed his tongue. He rounded the hallway glancing nervously at Markos and Riu, these were his friends.. His comrades.. His platoon. He wouldn't fail them now. Turning the corner of the first hall Alekzandr was nearly body-slammed by the scent of burnt flesh. It filled his nostrils like a wet cat soaked in muddy garlic. He pulled his inner shirt over his nose hoping the fire-resistant material was also shit stench proof. Somehow he already missed the puffy mildew-infested stone walls behind him. Turning the corner he caught a massive glimpse of light, the corridor before him was fifty-five feet long and nearly three-fourths of it was only five feet wide. A narrow hall like this would be impossible to attack but easy to defend, he did not relish the idea of escaping this way in a bad situation, that would be suicide. He took ten steps forward finally entering the narrowest of the hall, the torches no longer adorned the wall, he thought of closing his eyes as the light at the end was not enough. His feet stumbled on cracked narrow bridges of rock each one threatening to give away his position by sound.

"Ta haf afr darv sy witruouty zmyy, sy sudd ypkrity zmy qryiz odipyw ao adv qdyy!" A chant rang out in the distance reverberating off the walls. It got louder and louder until-

"Neek." Alekzandr made a clicking sound with his tongue so silent and small one could be forgiven for not hearing it at all. He spun his head to Riu and Markos who were halted behind him. On the ground, he sniffed the air and examined where he was about to place his foot. He concentrated, hard, a silent spell was difficult but he waved his hand trying to feel the power below him. If only he could.. Light blazed around him, Alekzandr readied Segiri in case of a fight but realized it wasn't truly flame, but instead, his vision had been illuminated. 'Hold on' he thought, he hadn't cast dark vision. Hovering above him was Markos's familiar small pink squid through its eyes he was staring. Just as he thought. He gestured down, in a foot wide square was a glyph of warding, nasty traps filled with spells. He held out his arms and narrowly helped Markos and Riu around out before resuming his walk. The chanting was getting even louder now.

"Cmiaw! cmiaw vorv arvyr! za haf afr darv awpavyfw sy aooyr; tmy kyyeyrw! ao cmiaw." He saw Markos flinch with that line, he wondered what it meant. Before them was a large lading that had light peeking over it, roughly fifty feet long, and twenty feet wide He crept nervously after Markos who was standing on its edge. Over the balcony, Alekzandr saw the cult. Imagine terror.. Now multiply that by fifty and one could still not understand what he saw, a large cross-shaped room the largest center corridor had to be around eighty-five feet wide, like an open valley. They knelt there at the top of the cross. The room was elaborate, ornate with large banners on the ceiling adorned with black symbols of Asmodeus on red fields. In the center of the room, he spotted a large group of people. They were surrounded by numerous braziers of fire ignited in all sorts of different colors.

"Less than I assumed.." Alekzandr rubbed his chin, there was at least fifty rows of seats yet he only saw that many cultists, with each one being able to fill ten of them he expected nearly seventy more.. He wondered what had happened. Terrifyingly the cultists dressed in dark blood red robes chanted as they stood on a large circle of runes and cliffs, each of them glowing. A chill ran up his spine as he spotted two large demons guarding a pair of doors in the far distance of the room; both doors were separated by what looked like a fifteen-foot gap of the wall. These creatures were nearly nine-foot-tall with massive spiky tentacle-like beards whose green color accented their purple flesh. They had elven-like ears but the mouths and faces of orcs. "Bearded devils.." Alekzandr cursed, perched above on either side of the room he got a good look at these purple-spined devils.

"Pray now." A shrill voice spoke up, Alekzandr spotted a taller elven figure with golden hair and eyes dressed in crimson robes. The elf seemed to have arcane whisks dancing around his hands while he lectured the crowd. Markos moved behind Alekzandr but he simply raised his rifle readying it. The air was warm and unholy, he was ready to kill it all. Standing at the top of this cross, was the man himself, Victoro Cassalanter clutching a dagger in his hand and a rapier on his hip. His wife Amalia stood behind him chanting a small prayer. Alekzandr examined it all, he had found the body of magic.. The circle, certainly those leading the prayer and of course Victoro. Now.. there was only one thing left to do. Markos perched on the furthest point on the ledge from him holding a spear in his left hand. Not a trident but a spear. Alekz grinned, he raised his rifle seeing the runes on it glow an orangish and blue color.