James Davis - Circle of Skulls

Hesitantly she pushed the door open wider, gazing down a spiral stairway that wound around a highly detailed column of stone. Hollowed faces in the column, carved into a myriad of ghoulish visages, held small pots of glowing embers and candles that dripped thick from the frowning corners of stone mouths. Wax coated the tips of her fingers as she quietly descended the first few steps, straining to hear more, her breath held in little gulps of air lest they obscure the approach of something hideous from below.

Murmuring voices rose and fell in a harsh language that flowed rough on the air, grating in her ears even though their melody seemed to call her farther down. Deep and sonorous, the chanting was joined by heaving breaths; contented sighs; and short, desperate wheezes.

On a wide, stone wall, the glow of unseen torches brightened, casting dark silhouettes that danced and wavered on a field of flickering orange. A crowd of figures in shadow intermingled on the wall, their forms merging with one another in lustful and furious configurations. Hands were offered to gently stroke a curving cheek or raised to smash violently down on something wet and indiscernible. Whispered pleas could be heard among the throng and a scent of heavy perfume, incense, sweat, and blood filled Darvehsa's nose as she turned to swiftly ascend the spiral stairs, stepping lightly toward the entrance hall above.

The door had opened wider behind her, a shaft of pale light illuminating the door handle. Turning back, she clucked her tongue as she reached the top step. Annoyed by her discovery, she pulled a clean square of cloth from her apron and wetted it on her tongue.

Pressing down tight, she scrubbed a finger-long streak of crimson from above the brass door handle, cursing as the dried, rusty edges of the stain challenged her fastidious determination. At length she leaned back, studying the door before exiting the stairway and pulling the door closed.

Its edges matched the wall perfectly, the handle disguised as a candle sconce. Wiping her hands off on her apron, she tested the door's edge once more to be sure it was sealed before calmly glancing once more upon the entrance hall. Satisfied and deciding to use the dusty chamber as an example to her staff in the morning, she set off for Loethe Manor's kitchens, prepared to harass the staff there into working faster if they wished to rest at all before sunrise.

Books and loose pages fluttered down from the upper floor of the tower as Jinn cautiously ascended the hidden staircase. Freestanding shelves had fallen from above, smashing to splinters on the dark marble floor as he, Mara, and Quessahn rose from the archmage's secret library and into a sudden silence. Bits of debris still rained down, bouncing and skipping among shattered boards and broken artifacts. Dim shafts of light illuminated the dusty mist through the tall windows across the west and south walls.

A flash of alarm stopped Jinn in his tracks, noting a peculiar lack of shadow on the northern wall as loose rocks splashed into the circular reflecting pool to the south-the pool where the massive statue of Asmodeus had once stood.

"Move!" he yelled, pulling Quessahn behind him as he dashed toward the windows, trusting Mara to take care of herself. Something crashed into the marble where they'd been, the impact splitting the floor, spidery cracks racing alongside them. Cut off from the front doors, Jinn searched for a swift escape and made for the windows. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a chunk of fallen stone and hurled it at the glass.

As the stone bounced harmlessly away, Jinn cursed, having caused no more than a smudge of dust on the warded glass. He spun around, heart racing, eyes searching the clouded room for movement. Stone ground against stone in the dark and something large appeared in the gloom, flying toward them through the cloud of dust.

"Down!" he cried, ducking low as a section of shelving flew over their heads and crashed against the windows. Splinters and chunks of wood clattered all around them as he and Quessahn cautiously raised their heads and stood. Mara appeared at his side, her red eyes fixed on something in the dark.

"The statue, I presume?" Jinn asked.

"Yes and no," Mara answered. "An eidolon. The statue of a god, blessed by a god. Sometimes they think they are gods."

Heavy footsteps prowled slowly near the back of the chamber, a violet glow piercing the dust as a metallic smell wafted through the room.

"And we're stuck in here with it," Quessahn added with a cough. "Guess Tallus didn't want to be buried alone."

The violet glow intensified, becoming more distinct as the footsteps drew closer. The ebony statue's smooth surface had changed, a dense pattern of arcane and divine symbols shining across its massive frame. Purple light and mist issued from its eyes and smiling mouth, curling around the graceful horns sprouting from its brow. Jinn narrowed his eyes at the statue, caught by the pulsing sigils on the eidolon's brow as it approached. He was struck by the familiarity of the construct, though he was unable to place where or when he'd encountered such a monstrosity before.

"Spread out," he whispered to the others.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the eidolon charged, its long, lumbering stride covering the distance between them swiftly. Mara slipped into the shadows, cloaking herself in darkness, as Quessahn drew her ritual dagger, chanting softly and backing away. Jinn held his ground, holding the construct's focus long enough for the others to prepare their magic, their rhythmic voices lost as the floor and walls shook. A massive fist, trailing wisps of purple mist, came crashing down as Jinn rolled backward, flying shards of marble stinging his skin.

Rising in a crouch, he swung his blade, the steel ringing off the eidolon's rocky arm harmlessly, though he noted a tiny crack of bleeding light where he'd struck. The second fist came soon behind the first, and he leaped forward, hacking at the statue's face. Sparks flew from the edge of his sword, leaving a miniscule fracture in its wake. The construct loosed a deafening roar as an acrid liquid seeped from the tiny wound, burning Jinn's wrist as he attempted to escape the eidolon's reach. A mere step away from clear ground, the thing's swiping claws caught his shoulder and sent him tumbling into rubble.

Pain seared through his arm, his recent wounds burning as the acidic blood of the eidolon mingled with his own. He rolled onto his back as the construct knelt over him, an artificial sneer on its face as it pinned his legs. His sword lost in the debris, he stared into the thing's hellish eyes, helpless. A spark in the fiery twin pits caught Jinn's attention, dragging him back to the first battles of his physical existence, back to the days when eidolons were yet young to the world. As the construct's other arm rose to crush him, he knew some minute part of Asmodeus was aware of his monstrous servant, and Jinn morbidly wanted, more than anything, to capture the attention of the god.

Shrieking voices heralded several bolts of scintillating light that arced through the eidolon's body, causing it to twist and writhe enough for Jinn to escape its grip.

He crawled through the rubble, snatching up his lost sword and ducking low as Mara strode toward him, her hands spread in a fan of blue flames that charged the air with arcane energy. As swiftly as she appeared, Mara dissolved into the shadows as the eidolon thrashed toward her, its fist smashing the floor where she'd stood. Seizing the moment, Jinn's arm shot out, stabbing the ancient sword into a burning rune on the construct's side. As the steel grated against stone, the statue lurched violently to its side, pulling Jinn to his feet as he fought to hang on, his sword caught in the burning sigil.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the brief blur of a dark shape rushing toward him just before the world went black. Stars danced before his eyes, and a peculiar weightlessness held him for what seemed like an eternity. Yellowed parchment fluttered around him amid clouds of swirling dust as he fought to regain his sight, shaking his head slowly and finding himself in a sitting position against the far wall. The floor shook beneath him, and flashing lights filled the tower as Mara and Quessahn hurled spell after spell at the eidolon, none of their magic injuring the thing to any lasting effect.