Mirrorworld Tales 2: Empire of the Undead

By Ethan Somerville

What would a group of gamers really do if they were somehow transported to a real fantasy world of myth and magic?

The eight adventurers; four gamers from the Science Earth and their Magick Earth counterparts, have finally made it to the gates of the vile kingdom known as the Empire of the Undead. Deep within the Emperor’s palace lies the Mirror of Albiroth, an extremely powerful enchanted artefact the Science Earth travellers need so they can finally return home.

But first they must first find their way through the Empire, a city created exclusively for the use of undead creatures like skeletons, zombies, ghouls, wraiths and vampires. The travellers battle their way through numerous monsters, traps and other dangers before even reaching the Imperial palace’s gates.

It seems the adventurers have an insurmountable task ahead of them, but just when they think they cannot travel any further, they receive aid from a completely unexpected source. For the Empire of the Undead has a dark history, and echoes from its ancient past still dwell beneath its cobblestones.

Two liches, the original founders of the city, seek to depose the Emperor and Albiroth and agree to help the adventurers. The travellers realise they are in well over their heads and if they want the Mirror of Albiroth, they must throw their lot in with a pair of unholy undead necromancers...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storm Publishing
• Release date: Nov 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311349668

Ethan Somerville

Ethan Somerville is a prolific Australian author with over 20 books published, and many more to come. These novels cover many different genres, including romance, historical, children's and young adult fiction. However Ethan's favourite genres have always been science fiction and fantasy. Ethan has also collaborated with other Australian authors and artists, including Max Kenny, Emma Daniels, Anthony Newton, Colin Forest, Tanya Nicholls and Carter Rydyr.

Book preview

Mirrorworld Tales Book 2

Empire of the Undead

Ethan Somerville

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Storm Publishing on Smashwords

Mirrorworld Tales 2 – Empire of the Undead

Copyright © 2014/2017 by Ethan Somerville

www.stormpublishing.net

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Chapter 1

At Nordaris, the Underground city located almost exactly opposite to Sudaris, all the travellers from the vessel Atmos went their separate ways. The eight adventurers headed from the central port in a group. Even here, on the other side of the planet, the shapeshifter Damocles Swiftfoot kept glancing over his shoulder, looking for any sign of Bishop Victoris and his highly polished paladins in amongst the multi-coloured throngs. But even though he spotted a few heavily armoured characters lumbering along, none sported the bright, familiar plate-mail of the Catholic Church’s knights. He began to breathe a little easier as they joined the crowds milling through Nordaris’ streets.

Unlike its southern counterpart, Nordaris was home to a considerably higher percentage of northern races; dwarves, gnomes, goblins, ogres and trolls to name just a few. The adventurers couldn’t travel more than a few metres at a time without spotting opposing races in a verbal argument or more commonly, a punch-up. City guards just let them fight it out. They knew if they imprisoned everyone they caught fighting half the city would end up in gaol. They only stepped in if weapons were drawn.

The burly bearded dwarf, Blagan Stonecrusher, knew this city and arranged for some rooms in a blocky stone construction called the Iron Tankard. He started drinking as soon as he reached the bar, and his human counterpart Blake joined him. Soon Damocles and his alter-ego Damon were also tossing back jugs of thick, dark dwarven ale. It tasted like a cross between stout, molasses and tar. Even Sue and Kiara had a couple of drinks to calm their nerves after the harrowing journey. Then they settled back to watch everyone fight, sing loudly and off-key, and tumble unconscious under the benches. Only the storm priest Aelfstan and the shadow elf Kyanne abstained. The priest was content to drink tea and watch the usual tavern shenanigans, while the assassin left the group to their own devices and went out to enjoy the sensation of stone beneath her soft elven boots once more.

Blagan and Blake drank roughly the same, but the next morning Blagan emerged happily from his room like he always did, ready for a huge greasy breakfast downstairs. On the other hand Blake didn’t appear until lunchtime, pallid, seedy and starting at the slightest noise. He actually shouted at a cockroach for scuttling too loudly. It was he who decided they should stay in Nordaris for a few days before setting off again, and that suited the others fine. Blagan wanted to look up some old friends, Kiara desired to become more acquainted with her spellbook, Aelfstan wanted to teach Sue some more, and Kyanne had disappeared on some mysterious mission that probably involved a dark alley and introducing some hapless victim to a poisoned dagger.

It might do us good to prepare, Blagan declared. The Empire might still be a wee journey away, but we’ll need all the help we can get once we reach its walls.

Aye, Aelfstan agreed. I would like to have Sue as my apprentice ere we start. Two priests in an unholy city of the dead are always better than one.

Sue knew exactly what her problem with religion was. She had struggled all her life to show people that she wasn’t just a romantic dreamer and could look after herself. She didn’t like relying on other people to do things for her, and even though the house she lived in belonged to her family, she still paid rent and all her own bills. Her parents had filled her with a sense of responsibility from a very early age, making sure she knew there was no such thing as a free lunch. In contrast her little brother seemed to believe the world owed him a living, and used every trick in the book to weasel money from the government and relatives not yet wise to his cunning tricks.

Yet, for some reason it was Sue who was constantly told off for wasting time with fantasy games and books. Thus she had never been particularly interested in religion, seeing it as just another crutch for insecure people who didn’t want to face up to reality. When Aelfstan asked her to open her mind and accept the New God into her heart, she just couldn’t do it. She wanted to keep standing on her own two feet, and told him so.

But that is exactly what our God wants, the tall, shaven-headed priest told her in his soft, beguiling voice. He doesn’t want mindless followers with nothing to offer but their blind loyalty. He wants individuals who aren’t afraid to think and face life’s challenges.

But don’t those sorts of people start asking questions? Look at me! I never stop! The strawberry-blonde woman spread her hands. The born-agains at uni could never convert me because I kept asking questions they couldn’t answer. Or if they could, their answers were never good enough, she added in a softer tone.

But Aelfstan simply smiled. My faith promotes the search for truth. Ask as many questions as you like. The New God wants companions, not sheep.

Sue gasped at the complete opposite to the Good Shepherd imagery she had been exposed to all her life. I always thought religions didn’t want people to think for themselves!

A lot don’t, but not mine. It is a modern faith for modern people, not medieval peasants.

So if your religion isn’t a crutch, what is it? Sue challenged.

Aelfstan smiled. A crutch is something for people who are injured. Normal people aren’t injured. They just need a guide, a path to wisdom, simply another way to achieve their goals. My God doesn’t ask for unquestioning obedience, only belief. You have experienced His power firsthand, when you and your friends crossed over, so you know He exists.

She nodded. I know and I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around that! I was pretty much an atheist beforehand, you know.

And I am still having trouble accepting that there are people on your world who don’t believe in any higher powers at all.

Quite a common occurrence on my world, I’m afraid. Sue sighed. Alright – I’ll try again. She settled down on the floor, cross-legged in her meditation pose, eyes closed and palms upturned on her knees with thumbs and middle fingers touching. She resisted a powerful urge to giggle, and then emptied her mind.

Focus on my voice, Aelfstan whispered. Don’t let any stray thoughts lure you from your course.

She took a deep breath and let it out.

Concentrate on the power of our God, filling your body and soul, lifting you from the dark of ignorance into the bright of knowledge.

Sue saw an image of herself behind her closed eyelids. It was sitting cross-legged, staring back at her. She wondered why she was seeing herself, and then the image began to float towards her. Or was she floating towards it? She couldn’t be sure.

Open yourself to the light, Aelfstan intoned.

Sue felt herself rushing towards her own mirror-image. Then, just as she thought she was about to crash into it, her world seemed to explode in a shower of glass shards, and a brilliant white glow flooded her body with warmth and joy. She welcomed the power of Aelfstan’s God and all the tenets of His religion, already explained by Aelfstan beforehand. And this time she accepted that He was a male deity, comprised of two male counterparts of law and chaos, merging into one being of complete duality.

This time Aelfstan welcomed her into the fold, and she became a true acolyte of the Mad God of Mirrors.

The city of Nordaris may have been different to its counterpart on the opposite side of the world, but the travellers had become somewhat jaded and tired of the whole Underground. They stayed in their rooms recovering from the sea journey. Blake spent most of the time nursing a hangover, and didn’t appreciate Blagan rousing him on their fourth day in Nordaris, demanding to know when they would finally be hitting the road again. With Sue’s help they managed to haul Blake out of bed, dunk his head in a barrel a few times to sober him up, then prod him into his clothes. The others had rested, reviewed their supplies and stocked up on everything they would need for the rest of the trip through the tunnels. Kyanne finished whatever nefarious deed had kept her out most of the evenings, and proudly sported a number of shiny new items. No one was game to ask her where she had gotten them.

With Blake still grumbling about his headache, the strange little group left Nordaris, following Kyanne into one of the many tunnels that radiated from the subterranean city. A passage headed up, cut with steps that wound around and around to a dizzying height. Kyanne explained that it would be easier if they continued underground for another few days or so – less chance of running into trouble.

Those who had been longing to see the sun groaned audibly. I’m getting a reverse tan! Blake moaned. And Damon is looking even more pasty and Gothic than usual!

Thanks, said Damon with a smile. I’ll take that as a compliment!

Kyanne planted her hands on her hips. Directly above is a Muslim land with very strict laws about who – and what – its authorities allow within its borders. No pork products, alcohol or recreational herbs, and all women and nonhumans must be robed from head to toe in full burqas. All shadow elves, such as me, are executed on sight.

That’s not such a bad thing, Blagan said audibly. Kyanne shot him a filthy look.

Sue folded her arms. Well, I’m not covering up for anyone, so I guess we continue on down here. Any objections? She glared at the dissenters, which actually turned out to be only Blake.

Fine, he growled. Sunlight would only make my head hurt even more anyway.

The travellers continued along the path Kyanne had chosen for them. This close to Nordaris the passage was very well travelled, with a smoothly worn floor and sufficient other occupants to provide enough illumination for the adventurers. Heavily laden carts trundled past, overtaken by speedy carriages with elaborate crests, and lone riders on fast horses. At least the Science Earth travellers assumed they were horses. They had a pallid, hairless look about him, and their hooves didn’t ring loudly on the hard stone ground. When one slowed because of several slow-moving wagons, the travellers were able to get a better look – and didn’t like what they saw.

These subterranean horses were larger and more muscular than their surface cousins, hairless and grey, with mean red eyes and large clawed paws instead of hooves. Their tails were thin and sinewy, like a whippet’s, and snapped back and forth as the creatures padded along. One of the beasts bared its teeth at the adventurers, and the Science Earth travellers recoiled at the sight of sharp yellow fangs, specifically designed to rend flesh.

The riders were no less ominous in long dark cloaks that did little to conceal their goblinoid origins. Pale green hands with claws instead of nails held the horses’ reins, and the feet drumming against the beasts’ sides were also green, gnarly and bare with large prehensile toes.

Meat-eating horses! Ewww! Kiara gasped once the creatures and their ugly riders were out of earshot.

You see a lot of grass down here? Kyanne asked. Most subterranean creatures are predominantly meat eaters, with the occasional fungus meal thrown in for variety.

What I wouldn’t give for a nice, fresh green salad, Kiara sighed.

Most other passers-by were goblinoid in origin, with the occasional dwarf to break up the monotony. The travellers also spotted gnomes moving quickly through the crowds. But as they continued on, following Kyanne along several branching corridors, the amount of other travellers decreased until once again they were walking alone. Out came the torches to light the way. Not long after Kyanne found them an alcove to spend the night in. It looked like it had been used many times before, littered with mummified food scraps, bones and other discarded refuse. Not used to walking after their long voyage, the travellers collapsed and slept heavily, a couple requiring a severe kicking to wake them for their watches.

A few more days of trudging through the endless dark followed, with tempers fraying steadily until no one dared speak for fear of incurring a beating. Kyanne kept well away from the main group, only re-joining them at night or to show them the way whenever they encountered a fork in the road. Blake and Blagan only spoke to each other to trade insults, and Damon and Damocles only communicated when they practised their swordplay. Even Sue and Aelfstan hardly spoke, too immersed in their own meditations. Kiara stuck to her book, practising spells by reciting them over and over under her breath. The Science Earth travellers, and to a lesser extent Aelfstan and Damocles, just wanted to escape from the Earth’s dark, endless embrace. Their old world seemed so far away – sometimes they wondered if they would ever see their home again. Perhaps they were doomed to wander through the bowels of the Earth forever…

But then, one day just like any other down in the Underground, Kyanne took them down another fork and up a narrow, winding passage that looked like it hadn’t been used for years. Previously they had encountered signs of habitation every few kilometres or so – scraps, broken items, evidence of old struggles, campsites, signposts and graffiti. But this passage appeared deserted and dusty, its walls slick with moisture and speckled with fungus. All the travellers noticed a new odour in the air, a welcome change from the constant odour of ancient stone.

Blake paused to sniff the wind. Could that be … fresh air? he gasped.

I think I can smell grass, Kiara cried.

And trees! Sue added.

The surface travellers surged forward down the passage until Kyanne stepped out of hiding and stopped them. Careful, she warned. This is a little-known exit, bypassing all the main routes with their officials and questions. We do not want to arouse any attention!

Sorry, Kiara apologised for her eagerness.

What about guardians? Aelfstan asked. Does another Earth spirit protect this way?

No. Not anymore.

Not anymore? Blagan exclaimed.

I think a spirit did watch this way once, but someone dispelled it.

Who?

Kyanne shrugged. How by the Abyss should I know? It wasn’t me, if that’s what’s concerning you. I have no ability to send spirits away. Now come on if you’re coming, and be quiet about it. I have no idea who is around upstairs, and I certainly don’t want some irate farmer running off to rouse his neighbours into a mob! She spun on her delicate elfin heel and stalked off down the narrow, rocky tunnel.

The travellers had to clamber over fallen boulders to follow. They came across a few signs that beings had passed by when they traversed a small clearing. A group had set up camp some time ago, leaving their usual rubbish behind. Someone had carved their initials in the wall. Then a scramble up a steep, tight passage followed. Almost there, Kyanne hissed. Stay back while I check if it’s clear.

The travellers hung in the tunnel, bracing themselves against the walls. Kyanne melted into the stone, disappearing without a sound. They waited, holding their collective breath. A cool, damp breeze eddied around them, and they hungered to burst from the confining tunnel. With freedom so close, claustrophobia began to flare.

Then Kyanne’s ebony-skinned face appeared up ahead. It’s deserted. Come on.

Everyone surged forward, almost stumbling over themselves in their haste to escape the Underground. Kyanne held aside a fringe of vegetation, protecting the tunnel mouth, and everyone scrambled out onto a rocky hillside. A leaden sky stretched overhead, and icy winter rain pelted the travellers’ upturned faces. But they didn’t care. They rolled in the wet grass, whooping and rejoicing in their freedom. Blake turned cartwheels. Damon grabbed Damocles’ hands and swung him around like a dance-partner. Even the straight-laced Sue leapt and cavorted, inviting Aelfstan to join her.

Give them a few days and they’ll be cursing the weather," Kyanne growled to Blagan.

The dwarf snorted. For once I agree with you!

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Chapter 2

It didn’t even take a couple of days. By the time sunset arrived - not that it was easy to tell due to the sky's evil pallor – the eight assorted travellers were heartily sick of the rain. Because most of them were Australians and unused to cold northern weather, the incessant icy drizzle soon drenched them to their skin.

A few even longed for the mild dryness of the tunnels of the Underground.

"You're