Erica, Treasure Hunter

What caught her eye now, though, was of a far more modern matter. Three or four horses were standing in a pen nearby, packs and saddles still on their backs. This was the right place, and Jaeron had guards. What's more, they had not been here long, from the look of the barely-trodden turf beneath the hooves of those animals.

Scanning the ground for any signs of those guards or of Jaeron himself, she found none. With a breath to steel herself, Erica plunged forwards, darting down the bank as fast as she could whilst keeping low. The horses did not react to her arrival, and she pressed herself against the cliff face moments later.

Then she edged forwards, reaching the mouth of the cavern itself and slipping inside, her breath catching as she took sight of what lay before her. Whilst her immediate surroundings were the natural cave formation that she expected, what stood ahead of her was not.

A large, shaped marble entrance emerged from the floor. Dust still hung in the air, and Erica got the distinct impression that it had been recently disturbed. The cave might have been open for anyone to stumble into, but this marble edifice had only just been torn from the ground. She strongly doubted that anyone other than Jaeron had done that; the warlock had likely had to bring it to the surface so that he could descend into his foul temple.

Which meant that Erica had to follow, no matter how much the prospect filled her with foreboding. Stepping through that white archway, she found a set of stairs leading down, and tentatively descended.

She soon found herself seeing only through the faintly flickering purple torches that seemed to have been lit every ten feet or so on the walls, daylight left long behind. Had it not been for those lights she would have slipped on her magic ring, but to do so here would be to invite blindness; the torches on the walls may have been ethereal - even demonic - in origin, but they were bright. And that ignored the fact that wearing the ring alerted any magic users in the vicinity as to her presence. Given that her advantage over Jaeron rested in the fact that he did not know she was here, compromising that seemed a very bad idea indeed.

Soon the staircase ended and Erica found herself in a large room, with high ceilings and what had previously been pristine alabaster walls. Now, the room was blackened and scorched. The smell of sulphur hung in the air, and Erica held back a gag at the unholy stench. Worse, black ichor bubbled in a pool in the middle of the floor, a guard's raiments slowly dissolving within it. He's killed one of his guards! her mind screeched as she took in the sight.

Ahead of her a doorway was open, a staircase of ancient stone steps descending into darkness. The magical torches continued to line the walls, and Erica was not sure whether Jaeron had done that himself or if the temple had reacted to his presence. Either way, the lights made her uneasy and she bit her lower lip before deciding to descend. With a slight cough at the stench, she skirted the pool of ichor and headed towards the staircase, then began to swiftly climb down.

She moved carefully as she descended, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, desperate not to lose the element of surprise. It might be her only way of finding success against a warlock as powerful as Jaeron.

Slowly, the staircase grew brighter. Erica knew she was reaching the end, the smells of smoke and sulphur stronger than ever before. The air was hotter, too, and had she not known better she could have sworn it was growing more claustrophobic. Even so, she carried on.

At last, the stairway opened out into a large room, and Erica pressed herself against the steps to remain hidden in the shadows. Her blood froze at what she saw.

Ahead of her stood Jaeron, two guards by his side, a third tied down with chains inside a glowing purple star on the floor. The man was writhing pitifully, trying to scream in pain except for the fact that no sound came out, and his eyes and veins were bulging. Jaeron stood above him, one hand stretched towards the chained guard, the other pointed towards a heavy stone door behind him, and a beam of black energy seemed to channel through him between the two points.

Erica was horrified at the sight. He was quite clearly using this guard as a sacrifice to travel deeper into the demonic temple, and she could not simply watch on as he did so. The other two guards, however, seemed entirely unmoved by the sight; then again, they had seen the fourth member of their group turned into a foul black ichor only moments before, so perhaps they were simply hoping they would not be next.

Yet Erica could not watch on and do nothing. With a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she unhooked the small handheld crossbow she kept at her waist, and lifted it towards Jaeron. She said a quick and quiet prayer to the Gods, then pulled the trigger.

The bolt hurtled towards the warlock, impacting in his chest with a sickening crunch, and the man reeled backwards with a scream. The black energy disappeared in an instant, and Erica charged into the light, freeing her rapier and bringing it to bear on the nearest guard. The woman had reacted to Jaeron's scream, however, and parried the attack, swiping outwards with her own blade; a move Erica easily rolled away from.

Yet Jaeron was not felled, merely wounded, and Erica could only watch from the corner of her eye as he pulled himself back to his feet and rounded on her with a snarl.

"You seek to stop me now? You do not understand what you are dealing with, you pathetic little woman!"

She leapt aside as bolts of purple fire burst from his now-outstretched palms, feeling an evil heat wash over her back as they impacted on the wall behind. Then another sword arced towards her, her rapier barely deflecting the blow, and it was at that moment she saw the red glow that suffused the eyes of the remaining guards. They're possessed!

It certainly explained how quickly they moved, or they strength with which they swung at her. Erica was doing all she could just to stay alive, dodging between both the keening sweeps of her opponents' swords and the streams of purple fire that issued from Jaeron's hands.

Her continued survival seemed to be antagonising the warlock, though. His wails grew more frenzied as he cast, the magical flames less accurate. Moments later, one seared into the side of one of the guards as she threw herself at Erica. The woman's eyes opened wide, the barest hint of an otherwordly scream just beginning to tear itself from her lungs, when her body shimmered and disappeared.

That left one guard, and then man seemed utterly unfazed by the destruction of his companions. His lips twisted into a growl, he came at Erica again.

Jaeron, meanwhile, had ceased his bursts of demonic flame, and Erica grew wary as the warlock slowly hunched forwards, retching, words in a language she did not understand spilling like vomit from his lips.

Then he stood, his mouth forced open, a great belching black smoke billowing forth and filling the small room. Erica could sense the taint within that smoke even before touching it, and as it flowed unstoppably towards her she could do nothing but thrust her hand into her pack and say a prayer to the Gods.

*****************************

She awoke with a start, the edgings of a scream in her ragged gasps, though she choked back the sound when she realised she was still alive. A quiet sob escaped her lips nonetheless, and she scrabbled into a sitting position, only then remembering the miasma that had clung to the air. She clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, yet the air seemed safe; no trace of the cloud remained.

Its effects lingered, however, in the forms of the two dead guards lying beside her. The man immediately to her right still clutched his sword as he had when fighting her, Jaeron's attack taking him as much by surprise as it had her. The remaining body belonged to the guard she had seen being sacrificed when she had intervened, and she flinched with sadness at the sight. Then again, she soothed to herself, at least this death was likely quicker. His soul was safe.

She stared down at her balled fist, still thrust inside her pack, and slowly withdrew it. The white figurine was clenched within it, the hard stone digging into her skin, and she sighed shakily with relief. It had been her final thought; her only hope of salvation. And it had saved her. Whatever holy magic had lingered inside the figurine had imbued her with just enough power to keep her from death.

Yet it was spent now, and she carefully replaced it. It had saved her life once again, but she would see no more use out of it until she could have the power inside replenished.

Pushing herself to her feet, she stood for a moment to regain her balance. Then she glanced around.

The heavy stone doors had opened; no doubt the death of the two guards had been sufficient to activate whatever spell hung in their foul runes, and a great expanse of blackness lay beyond. She edged forwards, and gasped.

The blackness was the result of depth. A vast, almost inconceivable cavern stretched out in front of and beneath her. She could see neither its top nor its base, and Erica was no longer sure she was still on her home plane. The air felt different here, almost wrong, and her heartbeat quickened as she considered that this temple might have been a gateway to another world.

Either way, she knew where it was she needed to go at this exact moment. A pathway extended from the door, a staircase leading straight upwards into more blackness, and on a platform that she could only see the base of a bright white light shone upwards.

Erica stepped onto the rock, relieved to note that it felt solid and substantial beneath her feet; she had no desire to know how it managed to find support when seemingly suspended in such eternal blackness. Then she brought her other foot to bear and slowly climbed the stone staircase.

There were no torches or other light sources she could see suspended against the utter black of the world around her, and yet she could see clearly. It was as if this place were suffused in its own strange light; that the laws of nature she knew so well were somehow distorted or ignored here.

Erica tried not to let such thoughts cloud her mind. She did not want to go mad; she wanted to stop Jaeron. Attempting to be as quiet as she could, she approached the top of the staircase, where became aware of a faint chanting. She reached the top and her eyes opened wide.

Jaeron stood before her, his back turned. His arms were aloft and energy seemed to shimmer around him, yet it was the beam of white light in front of him that caught Erica's attention. Inside seemed to hover a golden pendant, spinning slowly as if caught by an otherworldly wind, and Jaeron's attention was fixed upon it. The amulet!

She stepped up onto flat surface of the platform, no more than twenty feet from Jaeron, and unsheathed her crossbow. Readying a bolt as silently as she could, she lifted the weapon.

"You are wasting your time," Jaeron said, slowly turning. He grinned at her sickeningly, lifting his hand.

Erica fired the bolt, cold fear washing through her as it slowed as if passing through water. It came to stop inches from Jaeron's outstretched palm, and then dropped harmlessly to the floor.

He laughed. "Little woman, do you not understand where you are? We are inside a demonic plane; my powers are amplified here. You are nothing but a speck of annoyance." He stepped backwards until he was level with the pendant, then plucked it from the beam of light as if it were nothing but a bauble. "And with the power of this amulet, I will become unstoppable."

Erica charged towards him, withdrawing her rapier, desperate to end this now. Jaeron could not be allowed to grow more powerful.

The warlock flicked his hand dismissively and Erica was thrown backwards. The edge of the platform hurtled towards her, the blackness beyond beckoning to her, and she scrabbled desperately for purchase.

She found it, halting her slide mere feet from that fall, then whirled to face Jaeron. She would not go down that easily!

The warlock had already returned his attentions to the amulet, turning it over gently in his hands, cooing at it as a mother would a small babe. The maniacal grin never wavered on his face, and then he closed his grip around it and shut his eyes.

Erica could feel the change in the air, as if a vast spell was being cast. Reality seemed to waver a moment, such was the power Jaeron drew in, and her head span.

Then the warlock's eyes snapped open, and a snarl grew on his face. He growled at the amulet, a nimbus growing around his hands, and Erica felt that same strange feeling. Whatever Jaeron was doing, it wasn't working.

"No, no, no, no, no!" the man screamed, and once more the air shimmered. "This cannot be; it is impossible! I did not come all this way, work all this time for a useless, dormant, empty amulet! It is WORTHLESS!"

His face a mask of frenzied agony, Jaeron hurled the pendant away from him, and it clattered towards the stairs, stopping just short of plummeting from the platform. Then he clawed at his head, purple fire rippling across his skin, his eyes burning with insanity and despair.

Writhing, screaming, he fell to the ground, great sobs torn from his lungs. Bursts of magic pulsed outwards from him, and he turned to Erica with tears running down his face. Then his reddened eyes opened wide.

Erica's crossbow pointed straight at his face.

He didn't even have time to scream before the bolt had taken him between the eyes, ending the warlock's misery in a heartbeat. Better than he deserves, she thought to herself, then stumbled as the platform began to shudder.

Staring around wild-eyed, she realised it was starting to come apart, chunks of the brown stone breaking off and plummeting into the blackness below. With no time to lose, Erica ran for the stairs, and the pendant caught her eye as she streaked past it.

She grabbed it hurriedly, thrusting it into her pack, then bounded down the stairs. Jaeron had said the amulet was worthless, but that was only to him; to her, such a beautiful piece of gold jewellery would fetch a nice price indeed. And with the warlock's declaration that it was free from any sort of taint, she no longer feared removing it from this strange place.

Erica hurtled towards the doorway as the ground shivered again beneath her feet, and with a final titanic leap she rolled out onto the solid floor beyond. The air seemed cleaner here, despite the stench of sulphur and ichor, and she knew she was at last back in her home plane. Turning, she watched the last of the stone pathway crumble and disappear, until only blackness remained. Then, in a great grinding of stone, the doors slammed shut by themselves. She did not think anyone would ever be able to open them again.

Throwing back her head and gulping down air, Erica allowed herself a smile.

She had done it.

*****************************

Her horse was where she had left it, she was relieved to see as she approached the animal. She had run from the foul temple the moment she had regained her composure, then waited and watched at the cavemouth as the marble tip was sucked back beneath the mountain no more than ten minutes after she had escaped its confines. Afterwards, she had left without looking back, determined to find her mount and leave this place.

She mounted the horse and directed it back towards the main road through these mountains, eager to be away from the cave, and soon found herself back on that path. She was alone as far as she could see, but she was safe. At least, she was back in her own environment; the worst she might encounter in these mountains were bandits or orcs, and she could deal with both of those.

In the distance the faint haze of smoke suggested a small village, or at least an inn. This was a fairly major trade route and it did not surprise her to note that habitation existed along it. Indeed, the hour was growing late and she did not think she would make it back down the mountain in the remaining daylight hours; it made sense to stay here for the night, then make the journey tomorrow morning. Besides, she had been frantically chasing Jaeron for days. She had earned a little rest.

*****************************

Erica reclined on the tavern room's bed, crossing her feet as she propped her back against the headboard. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and she had changed from her shirt and pants into a linen chemise that fell to her knees. Of course, in her present position it had ridden a little higher, though her modesty was still preserved. Nevertheless, she was glad she'd had the forethought to lock the thick wooden door that gave entrance to her room; there was no telling who might have tried to force their way into the chamber of a beautiful woman, and Erica did not want more killing on her hands. She had done enough of that today, deserved or not. All she wanted now was to relax.

The golden amulet glittered in her hands, with its texture like cold granite, the light splintering into fragments as it hit the rough surface. Empty, she thought, passing her fingertips over it. That's what Jaeron said. It certainly seemed so; nothing but a lifeless hunk of gold. Beautiful, but far from deadly.

She sighed and shifted her weight. The cool linen was soft against her skin, the mattress beneath her even more so, but she did not want to sleep. No, it was another desire that niggled at her mind, one she had spent time in the tavern trying to appease, but with no luck. All the men had been oafish boors, more likely to end up speared on her rapier than sharing her bed. After a few hours at the bar she had retired to her room disappointed, and horny.

Mother always said I'd amount to nothing but a man-chasing whore, she chuckled to herself. She got the man-chasing part right, at least.

Her mind had begun to wander, as it so often did, and lascivious thoughts took shape in her imagination. Memories of her previous partners, some met and enjoyed in taverns just like this. Those same men undressing, their muscles glistening in the evening sun. They sauntered towards her, and...

The amulet went cold. Very cold. It seemed to suck the heat from Erica's hands, from her entire body, and with a yelp she threw it to the floor, scrabbling to stand on the bed away from the terrible pendant. Almost reflexively she reached for her rapier, its keen edge a deadly glint in the lamplight, and stared wide-eyed.

A fog snaked its way from the golden amulet, thick and blue, rising through the air of the tavern room. With a muttered word of power Erica's rapier blazed into fire, and she set herself. This was not what she needed right now. She thought she might at least have got one evening of peace; one evening where she could relax and enjoy herself.

Her demeanour was cold now, her desire gone, the only things still racing through her mind those that would keep her alive. Tactics and stances and swipes and parries all spun in a vicious maelstrom, ready to be plucked out when needed and put into motion.

Erica gripped the hilt of her rapier more tightly as she realised the blue smoke was coalescing, taking a vaguely humanoid form. It swirled, thickened, the tendrils seeming to withdraw as the translucent form took shape.

It was supposed to be empty!

At last the fog settled, and Erica's breath caught, her taut muscles ready to strike at any moment. A tall and seemingly male figure stood before her, all dusky blue skin and long black hair. Red tattoos marked the entirety of his body, appearing to throb with their own potent light, swirling patterns of runes and symbols that stretched over his naked muscular frame. Powerful limbs and a toned chest and stomach almost distracted her, and the long sinewy wings that unfolded from his shoulderblades so very nearly did the same, but what caught and held her attention was his face.