CHAPTER 28
THE TOWER OF DEATH
Over the parched wasteland Gem and Gorthlob were borne, each gasping for air in this desolation that was Troch. All was colourless now, a reversal of normal light, just a dark blur of grey that merged with a darker sky. And dominating it all stood the very blackness of Harg-Tolun itself, the heart around which this whole void was centred. About its three pinnacles lightning crashed constantly, rending angry clouds that swirled in a sea of torment.
As they came closer to the Tower, everything grew darker still, and even the air seemed to bear weight. Yet despite the darkness, the very presence of this mighty Tower made every one of its many facets visible where all else was cast into gloom. The region before the Tower's threshold was defiled, scattered with the bones of Krahls and Nulgs, littered with grinning skulls and twisted carcasses. The skulls seemed to stare up at Gem, glowing white through the murkiness to mock him. The more he looked, the more he became convinced that the faces were horribly alive, laughing hysterically at him, taunting, grinning, and stabbing words of condemnation. Dust, kicked up by the Stone Ghosts, filled his nose and mouth, and he spluttered and coughed painfully. Overcome by horror, Gem raised his eyes again to those cruel cutting lines that formed the shape of Harg-Tolun. It was a sight terrible, ruthless, unforgettable; commanding his every nerve.
They came nearer, and started to rise as they headed towards the Gates. Now the vastness of Harg-Tolun soared mountain-like above them, majestic in its utter supremacy, bewildering and infinite-seeming. Across the great mound upon which Harg-Tolun was built, many roads and paths ran, all eventually leading up to the Gates. These were claw-shaped and iron-hewn, their entire surface covered with rows of huge black spikes, outward pointing. The Gates were surrounded by enormous slabs of smooth stone that encircled the Tower, buttressed on all sides by immense girders, forged of old in molten metal and reaching over one hundred feet high. These vast fortifications had been sunken deep below the land around the Tower, anchoring fast this formidable stronghold since its creation over two thousand years ago. Above these huge bolsters protruded a parapet directly overlooking the threshold. From there the great walls rose, dotted with slit-holes, but otherwise devastatingly smooth and unmarred. The Tower itself heightened into three separate stages, each bulwark slightly narrower than the previous. The Tower's base, running half a mile in circumference, formed the first stage, and its joining with the second bulwark resulted in a great walkway that circled the whole Tower. Here there were lights lit, and Gem could descry the forms of sleepless sentinels that patrolled the battlements. Fear numbed him, as now he felt the attention of these sentinels turn suddenly to him, as they observed the unexpected arrival of the ancient Ghosts of Banu Culdra. He sensed the gaze of their ruthless eyes, and heard their cries as many rushed from the walkway to alert their superiors.
Some of these figures soon reappeared on the lower parapet, issuing from small doors in the wall behind. There was some commotion as orders were shouted down to the Gate-Guards below. Then came a sound that almost stopped Gem's heart. There was a grinding of rock and a clashing of iron as the Gates opened into a gaping mouth, ready to engulf them. Gem felt his limbs become rigid as he saw a black winged form emerge, uttering a chilling cry.
“Drathlord,” he murmured as the form approached, its great wings sweeping menacingly as it floated down from the Gates. The Drathlord came to rest before them, lifting its wings high as it landed.
The Ghosts dropped Gem and Gorthlob, and the Drathlord stalked the ground about where they lay cowering. It turned its skull-like countenance upon the Ghosts, and exclaimed:
'Vaarluk gruolg koa hurk ij azkul?' The Ghosts turned, and Gem heard the tramp of their feet dying away. Their deed done, they would return to their mountain domain. The grotesque bats followed too, whimpering and squawking as they obeyed the Drathlord's orders. At the Gates a huge black Krahl appeared, wielding a hefty rod. This was the Head Krahl, and he came to where the Drathlord examined these two visitors.
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The Arrowstone
काल्पनिकA Fantasy Quest story that I wrote between the ages of 15 and 24. Influenced by J.R.R.'s 'The Lord of the Rings', the story comprises 34 chapters and approx 181,000 words.
