Depths of Despair

By William Van Tuyle

Four strangers are recruited to delve into an abandoned, rumor-plagued mine in order to retrieve the lost treasure of an exiled prince. The job seemed easy enough, but more goes wrong as the journey presses forward. What they expected to be a handful of brutish bandits ends up being a horde of dark cultists calling to an unknown power.

Each party member is weighed down by a painful past. And a test of sanity and tenacity lurks around every corner of the dark depths. When a dire secret is uncovered, the four unlikely heroes attempt to escape and warn the rest of their world before it's too late. Threatened by their own mortality, banding together despite their differences is the only option.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Enigmatic Publishing
• Release date: Jan 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986929316

Book preview

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Chapter 1:

The Long, Winding Road

Seranda was skeptical about traveling this abandoned, dilapidated path south to get to her destination, but she lacked the privilege of choice. Sisters of The Order did as they were told, all for the good of The Order. She was a young woman, just nineteen years of age, possessing a face of innocence and youth, beauty and vigor, highlighted by large, bright blue eyes that attracted attention at all times. Though a Sister of The Order never desired personal attention. They all had to be dedicated to the cause, giving up even the most basic of desires. Her beautiful, long, straight blonde hair stretched down and covered much of the brown robe that she adorned. Her robe was also shielded in the front by a thin, bronze breastplate protecting her vital organs. The strength of her back bore the burden of a heavy iron mace for whenever holy words could not get the job done. The god she served would not aid her in harming others even in self-defense. She was only to use her powers to aid the needy, as explained in the book she carried at her right hip.

Her foreign presence illuminated this damned land with a faint glimmer of life and hope. These were dark times, and that was no secret to the young heroine who was determined to counter it with her way of light. Her world was not unlike yours, but her world bled unusually during this time. Reports of strange kidnappings came in from across the land. Revolutions came and kingdoms fell at unprecedented rates. Political instability threatened all desire for peace. But everything is for a reason. Everyone looked for someone, something to blame, but few truly saw it.

In this baleful time of anarchy, might made right. But even those with the sharpest swords could fail to protect their minds from the unknown. This was no time to trust strangers. But one has nowhere else to turn when loneliness is all they know.

Seranda’s hood over her head obscured some of her peripheral vision, but this was not enough to make her want to remove it. She had the urge to hide herself from the wind blowing through the old trees as the setting sun stained the land orange. The urge to hide from the crows and their ominous sounds trembled her hands. To shield herself from the encroaching darkness of the dusk sky was all she could ask for in this moment.

Are you heading toward Tawlwood too? a man’s deep voice asked from behind. Seranda jumped in fright and prepared to fight to defend herself, not expecting to encounter anyone on this god-forsaken road but bandits, or worse. As she attempted to draw her weapon and book, and turn to face her foe, she stumbled and fell, dropping her mace in the process. She looked up at her attacker, embarrassed and frightened. Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you, he said, reaching out a hand to help her up.

Realizing the man meant no harm, she looked away from him down at her feet as she stood up slowly on her own. She brushed herself off and placed her weapon back on her back, not saying a word.

Are you answering the wanted poster? They’re promising a lot for an easy job. Only problem is you gotta come all the way out here, he said as he peered around at the ancient woods that surrounded them.

Yes, I am on this quest, representing The Order, she replied, looking at the very large man. Calling him a towering giant was an understatement. Just shy of seven feet tall with a wide, hulking frame, he was a terrifying presence despite his gentle demeanor. His dark brown eyes contrasted the pale skin of his bald head. He was considered somewhat old at thirty-five, considering the state of the world. His flesh bore evidence of a hard life, a life of scars, filth, and struggle. And his uneven, brown facial hair looked like it was kept trim by the man himself with the aid of a combat weapon. This rugged warrior was no man of hygiene and uniform. This was obvious while standing next to her clean, mandated appearance.

He smiled at her, revealing yellow, slightly crooked teeth. The Order, huh? All the way out here even? Name’s Aldrin. Nice to meet you.

I am Seranda Kelantove, Sister of The Order, she spoke with formality.

Right, I got that, he replied as the two walked together side by side, following the long, winding road to get to the forgotten town. Seranda was a girl of normal size, but she looked quite small next to her new giant companion as they traveled together. So, ever been here before? he asked.

No.

Me neither. I heard there’s nothing to do out here, except get attacked by bandits of course. Don’t worry, I won’t let them harm you.

Seranda stared straight ahead. Thank you, she replied in a neutral, emotionless tone.

The man carried a massive two-handed maul on his back. The long, ebony handle supported a menacing steel bludgeon armed with spikes on both sides. The dreadful weapon by itself looked to weigh about as much as the young cleric.

Aldrin couldn’t help but want to stare at the girl. Her face was like artwork, drawing the eye back to it again and again, but her discipline kept her from being vain about her physical appearance. She had no time nor reason to consider such things. She knew she was a Sister of The Order first and foremost. Everything else came second to that at best. Anyway, I brought the letter I saw with me here. Perhaps we should review, he said as he pulled a crumpled ball of paper out of his backpack.

WANTED!

Professional explorers needed to retrieve lost artifacts from the Tawlwood Mine. Protection is advised. All party members present will receive an even split of the reward. Reward: 100,000 coins.

Bandits from the area are known to have taken up residence within the caves. The vendor is not responsible for injuries or death occurring on the journey.

All interested respondents are to report to the Tavern of Tawlwood at midnight of the fall equinox.

Sounds pretty scary, huh? he joked.

Yes, she answered seriously but emotionless.

You don’t talk much, do you?

No. I am sorry. Her eyes darted around, avoiding eye contact.

Aldrin scratched his shoulder awkwardly, trying to think of a way to make traveling with his new companion less uncomfortable. Do you want to tell me anymore about yourself?

No.

Do you want to know anything about me?

No.

He laughed. Haha, okay fine. We’ll stay quiet until we get there. Human interactions in his life have been awkward at best. Quite some time had passed since he had even spoken to another human being, until now.

She felt guilty, knowing she was probably being rude and failing at this social situation as usual for her. But Seranda hated small talk and felt uncomfortable talking to strangers about anything but business. Even more so, she hated to discuss herself.

Just as night fell, they arrived at the town gates. Crude flaps made of wood and ridden with cracks did little to block their way into the forgotten town. Not that it mattered much since they were left open without a care in the world. Guards stood by and said nothing to them as they approached to enter. We’re here about the wanted poster, said Aldrin.

Neither guard reacted, physically nor verbally, to the two visitors. Aldrin squinted his eyes through the darkness, trying to tell if they were just statues. Though their eyes were glued to the ground, unblinking, they appeared to be organic.

Seranda walked through the gate, not waiting for a response. Aldrin followed. Wow, that’s it, he whispered to Seranda. I guess they figured no thief would waste his time on this damned place. Now where is that tavern?

They were now beyond the gates and well within the town. Follow me. I know the way, said Seranda. Tawlwood looked like a ghost town with few residents for so many deteriorating buildings. There were few fires alight and even fewer houses without holes in them. A crow cawed in the distance.

Seranda dutifully led Aldrin straight to the tavern where she held the door open behind her for him. The plain structure was of unpainted wood with crudely carved sections for windows. It was two stories high and poorly lit on the outside. It was a miracle she had found it at all.

The unsightly appearance paid no bother to the girl, as she was only focused on the task at hand. Aldrin had seen far worse in his earlier days, but he had hoped that tonight would have been better. He stepped around the scurrying rodents feasting at the entrance.

Seranda removed her hood as she entered. Inside, she went straight to a table as if she had been trained for this scenario a hundred times. He followed her. The tavern had a few groups scattered around its vast, open room. The décor consisted of mutilated animal parts, displayed as trophies on the walls. Drunken chatter and bad breath filled the airways. Miserable, old bar wenches dutifully carried orders to the few obnoxious patrons who bothered to come to such a place.

The two adventurers took their seats at a table at the center of the back wall. Seranda took the opportunity to read through her book. Its appearance was unremarkable, just a small black book with no cover art or inscription. The inside pages were filled with neatly written, uniform passages, free of any illustration. She focused on her reading like a hawk watching its prey.

Will they come? asked Aldrin, both to himself and to his companion.

He will come, she said as she brushed her hair away from her eyes, looking down at the table.

Chapter 2:

Seek Not for Heroes

Off a short distance from the town of Tawlwood, two more adventurers journeyed north to answer the call of the bounty. One was an odd-looking man, twenty-six years of age, dressed in loose-fitting black cloth attire. He was of about a medium build, though somewhat lean. Straight, bone-white hair grew down to his shoulders. The dangling mess was an interesting match for his pale white skin and gray eyes. It might be easy to mistake him for dead if not for his constant scowl. But the oddest thing about him was how thin and tight the skin on his face was. Almost as if his own skull was trying to suck the life of his flesh away. As the horses pulled the weight of the carriage along, the man stared off into the night sky, rarely blinking, never shifting his gaze.

The woman was tall and narrow. She possessed long, graceful limbs that would have made her a gifted dancer. While a bit older at twenty-nine years of age, she still maintained the beauty of her younger years. Red hair that landed at her shoulder blades portrayed life in contrast to the man’s mane of death. Brilliant green eyes that could not hide a sad gaze flickered as she stared down the road they traveled.

It was a convenient night for the old coachman, getting to bring two travelers at once. This was a rare occurrence since the mostly abandoned town was the only destination he brought people to. And since they were strangers who just happened to be going the same way, each paid full price. Though his true reward would come later. Almost there, the horse rider said as they approached the southern gate of Tawlwood.

The man in the back broke his stare and turned to face their destination. The woman pulled out her flier.

As they stopped, the man waited for the woman to jump out first before following.

Well, this is it I guess, she said.

Yes, now we must find the meeting location. In a tavern I believe, he replied. The man spoke with an apathetic and somewhat raspy voice.

That’s right, she said as she read the paper. Only one in the whole town.

Very well. Let us proceed, he said. The two walked through the open, unguarded gate and began to explore for their way.

So, where are you from anyway? she asked.

I am from nowhere. I’m a wanderer.

She forced a faint laugh. I hear you on that. My name is Gesile, by the way.

Xenathus.

Xenathus? I never heard that one before, but I think it suits you anyway, she said, closing her eyes and smiling, masking her buried sorrow.

His facial expression was neutral and showed little emotion. Gesile noticed that the man’s pants were ripped clean at the knees, both holes with the same pattern.

Back at the tavern, a tipsy man sitting in a backroom stared at his written orders.

Seek not for heroes on this journey. For there is no glory to be found down in those tunnels. Seek out souls who are already damaged and broken to the point they cannot be eviscerated further. Turn away any who do not fit the description. You will know them when you see them. One’s eyes reveal all. Stick to my plan, and you shall have your reward.

- Q. V.

My reward, the man smirked to himself in private. He looked out the window and figured now was a good time. He pushed the door open and emerged into the main tavern room. His tired eyes scanned the room for anyone who might be there for the mission. The girl’s clean, well-maintained hair stuck out like a sore thumb in the dirty, unwashed village.

Aldrin and Seranda were finally approached by the man. He was a short, round man in his fifties who looked like he never wasted extra time on hygiene. His breath stank of ale and his clothes of sweat. His smile revealed broken and missing teeth. He stood in front of the two of them and placed his hands on the table, rudely moving his face toward each of theirs, searching the contents of their eyes. Yes, you two will do. You’re here to get the Nalthazzar treasure, aren’t you? Am I right?

Nope. Sorry, wrong peo… Aldrin started to reply.

Yes, that is why we are here, Seranda interjected. She looked over at Aldrin. The lost artifacts described by the poster were hidden there by Prince Nalthazzar after he was exiled from the royal family, she explained.

Oh, I see.

Yes. You’re very good with your history, young lady, the drunk said as he stared closer at her face. Why do you want to get all dirty out there when you are so pretty in here? I bet any prince would marry you and make you a princess.

I am a Sister of The Order, she replied calmly.

He giggled obnoxiously. Oh, that explains it. What a waste. All of that is stupid and a waste of time but whatever. She did not react to his comments.

Mind your own business and learn to treat a lady with respect, said Aldrin.

Yeah, some lady. You and I both know how she’d be making a living if The Order wasn’t providing food for her mouth, the man replied. Aldrin pushed his hands against the table to stand and clenched his teeth.

Seranda grabbed his shirt. Please stop. Thank you, but, it is okay, really, she said.

Yeah, big boy. Last thing you wanna do is fight for a whore who thinks she’s too good to be around normal people, the man said. Aldrin roared loud enough to draw the attention of the whole room and struck the man hard enough to send him flying.