The Mountain Tale

Chapter One: The Legend

​

As rain strikes the globe of a streetlight lantern.

Patrons seek shelter, and drink dry the tavern.

Engrossed within a tale that a drunkard had slurred.

Of magic and madness, and creatures that stirred.

High in the mountains, away from the town.

Where water was ice, and snow rained down.

A darkness hidden from the world’s prying eyes.

Inside the Great Mountain, a warlock resides.

If you’d look to the horizon when the moon had halved.

You’d sometimes see hues of a sorcerer’s craft.

Malevolent chants and otherworldly portals.

That summoned Hell's Demons who preyed upon mortals.

A far-fetched recital in melodies stead.

To prevent little children from leaving their bed.

Thus, tongues soon moved over mutton and ale.

The fiendish sincerity of this Mountain Tale!

​

Chapter Two: The Mage and The Mountain

 

My name is Kalimus, I’m a mage from the West.

The God-fearing disciple and heavenly blessed.

I travel far and wide, through vast treacherous weather.

In search for old trinkets and long forgotten treasure.

The studies of scrolls in my journey before.

Etched a foul legend of the cursed-filled orb.

Decoded from a language, that died with the past.

Heed such a warning, we shouldn’t let last.

 

“Those who is’t seeketh pow’r of the stone shalt wither and wilt till skin and bone!”

​

An ominous message left lost with no name.

Suggests that this relic is not of our plane.

Whoever’s in the mountain, has found a way to birth.

Demon after demon, until there’s Hell on Earth

If man and monster should form coalition.

Locating the orb is my only mission.

I leave through the town when the wind lay still.

Through forests and trees, rivers, and hills.

Day became night, though I choose not to stop.

I reach the Great Mountain and must climb to the top.

This is no easy feat I’ll have you know.

It’s a certain death if I fall down below.

The stinging cold burns under the thinness of my shrouds.

As I surpass the foggy threshold of the monstrous clouds.

A jagged opening showed the mouth to a cave.

That bared frozen bodies of adventurers’ brave.

Clasping my frigid hands, I whisper a prayer.

Casting a bright aura, which illuminates the air.

Jiggles and rattles filled the cavern around.

Two pairs of red eyes, hatefully burn down.

The reanimated bones of decrepit old corpses.

Sentries of whoever, the wielder of the orb is.

The first skeleton hobbles and lunges forth.

Slashing overhead with his curved-edge sword.

I block with my shield and douse him with flames.

The charred foe screams into ember remains.

Now the second ghoul swings a rust-marred mace.

I evade the attack as it graces my face.

Conjuring a weapon of stone and twine.

I manoeuvre behind to sever his spine.

One harsh strike splits my enemy in two.

The other now ashes, the battle concludes.

​

Chapter Three: The Demon of Pinegrove

​

Navigating through corridors and web-ridden halls.

I see dried blood, and markings on walls.

Painted crude pictures of snakes that hiss.

Bearing three stones that were birthed in abyss.

I see a strange foreigner, trespassing our realm.

Sail a great ship and a wizard at the helm.

A mage like me who took a different path.

A dark one at that, twixt misery and wrath.

What’s this I hear? A sound undeniable.

A chittering murmur, most indescribable.

 

“Show yourself, I say! Make yourself known!

Nothing will stop me from possessing the stone.

Reeking of evil, your existence is unpleasant.

Face lights justice and make yourself present!”

 

My commanding words candid, sharper than an arrow.

Above it descended, a long, slender shadow.

Slithering down from somewhere up high.

Jagged fangs exposed; talons are nigh.

The winged beast grinned with blood-stained lips.

The serpent tongue wiggled and lashed like a whip.

With fierce leather skin and scales like thorns.

Growing from its head, a crown of black horns.

A spiny tail swayed, tipped with an axe.

Which aims right towards me as the poised creature attacks.

The nine-foot menace tosses a clawed hand out.

Lacerating my robe, cutting deep no doubt.

Clenching my fist, burning like a brand.

A cyclone of chaos in the palm of my hand.

Without hesitation, I expel the force.

The swirling blaze churns and travels its course.

Engulfing the demon in a wild consecration.

I grimace at the sight of this crude deprivation.

The smouldering hide crinkles, hisses at my strife.

To end this beast’s misery, I must use my knife.

Gripping the blade tight till my knuckles turn white.

The wearied demon approaches for one last fight.

I roll underneath and turn back around.

The axe tail swings up then crashes back down.

Without hesitation, I lurch on top.

With the dagger in hand, I slice the tail off.

The pained creature roars as molten blood pours.

The bubbling mess sizzles on the cold cavern floor.

With one thrusting twist, I mangle the beast’s knee.

Grasping the dead tail, I pull the axe free.

Aiming for the neck, I place the weapon in stead.

One mighty swing removes the body of the head!

The creature now lifeless, donning two vacant eyes.

Dismembered and scorched, cut down to size.

Though my journey continues, there’s still a way to go.

The master of the orb, atop those stairs I know.

​

Chapter Four: The Wrath of Ghar'zul

 

I reach a grand temple of demonic designs.

A place of foul evil where divinity resigns.

Suspended from the ceiling, chandeliers of blue flames.

Scattered across the walls. amalgamations of planes.

Far away realms all colliding into one.

The end of our existence has truly begun.

Beyond all the madness that surely unfolds.

I look to see a mage, and the stone that he holds.

It all makes sense now, the wall-drawn odyssey.

This warlock with the orb adheres to the prophecy.

He looks down upon me with a deity’s gaze.

Ambered glowing eyes, it’s a madman’s craze.

 

“How dare you shed light upon the works of Ghar’zul. Relinquish your religion and die like a fool!”

 

A beam of pure black fires towards my direction.

And fool I would be for attempting deflection.

I retreat behind a pillar, though his darkness cuts through.

It paints the wall behind me and destroys that too.

I shift through the shrine, hiding within cover.

When the dark mage breaks one, I move to another.

The sound of stray souls, screaming from the orb.

Calling for others that they wish to absorb.

He moves from his throne but struggles to stand.

His body gives in as the portals expand.

As they grow wider, I see many more fiends.

Looking to cross over into our world it seems.

They cackle and shriek like packs of wild wolves.

One pushes the gate open whilst another one pulls.

With no time to spare, I charge at the throne.

Weak is the wizard who has shrivelled to bone.

He hurtles towards me, another black bolt.

It nicks my shoulder, though I’m yet to halt.

Snatching the orb, I knock him to the floor.

I must use the relics power prevent this war.

​

Chapter Five: Dominating Darkness

​

I clutch the ball firmly, tight in my hand.

An absence of light I can barely withstand.

The hellish immorality soaks itself in.

Fantasies of ungodly devilish sin.

As the portals recede, a demon scrapes through.

With horns that protrude and poke messily askew.

It dashes full speed beating vast wicked wings.

The evil orb whirs, vibrates and sings.

I squeeze on the artefact and the trapped soul’s shout.

A torrent of luminescence flows ferociously out.

Total disintegration of the beast into matter.

Did it return? Is it dead? I think it’s the latter.

The fading mage reaches, murmurs and groans.

Attempting to recover his rare, treasured stone.

I shake off the man with the appearance that disturbs.

Grasp him by the neck and bellow these words.

 

“If you so much desire letting these demons through. I won’t bring them to us, I’ll send them you.”

 

I throw him backward into the last remaining door.

Those filthy fiends feast till there’s nothing much more.

As the gate shrinks shut and the dark fades away.

The realm shall be safe for one more day.

​

My name is Kalimus, I’m a mage from the west.

My willpower and faith were pushed to the test.

I do what is right, and I do so manually.

For the world can shade off into otherness gradually.

I must stay awake; I can’t follow my dreams.

The things that I know may not be what they seem.

For as long as I live, I won’t let the light wane.

Never standing idly whilst evil can reign.

​

Kade Baker

13 March 2022