The caravan moved slowly through the desert on its long, methodical journey toward a destination known only by the caravan master. The wheels of a dozen wagons sunk deep into the sand, leaving ruts that would be blown away by the next sandstorm. The prints of camels pulling the wagons and horses ridden by the guards would be gone even sooner.
There were no roads in the Sahra’t al-Asrar, only routes that were often carefully guarded secrets. The route for this particular caravan was known only by the large man driving the first wagon. He had dark skin, but not that of the desert people. His skin had been tanned by countless hours in the sun and was both overly tan and weather worn. He was used to hard work and dangerous journeys and had no fear of bandits or desert beasts. Despite his large size—or because of it—he was a dangerous man, and his camel bone war club showed the scars of hundreds of battles.
The caravan was approaching a little-known oasis that was protected on three sides by rock formations where they could water their camels and horses then rest during the hottest part of the day before resuming their journey after the sun set.
A man on horseback wearing a loose black robe galloped toward the caravan master, coming from the oasis. The robed figure’s palomino stallion skidded to a stop, kicking sand into the air.
“Whoa,” the caravan master said, pulling on the reins to stop the lead wagon. He held up a hand to signal the wagons behind to stop as well. “What news, Kael?”
The large man was sweating profusely in the desert sun, and marveled at the man wrapped in black fabric, unsure how he could handle the heat. He simply couldn’t comprehend how the black clothing somehow had a cooling effect.
The man on the horse reached up with both hands and pulled his hood back, easily controlling his mount with his knees, despite the fact that the animal was clearly agitated. He had dark, near obsidian skin, and his black hair was braided into dozens of fine plaits that were pulled to the back of his head where a gold band bound them together before they fell loosely down his back. His pale blue eyes seemed like they could see things no one else could see.
They probably can things unseen by everyone else, the caravan master thought. The robed man had saved him from numerous disasters that no one else had seen over the years.
“Something has… disturbed the oasis,” the desert clansman turned caravan guard reported. “I did not see what may have done it, but my horse senses its presence. I could barely control him.”
The caravan master wiped sweat from his brow and glanced up at the sun, high overhead. “But you didn’t see anything? Nothing dangerous?”
Kael frowned. “No, but I have learned to trust my mount. If he senses trouble, there’s likely to be trouble.”
They needed the water the oasis provided, not to mention the respite. Traveling through the desert during the heat of the day without water would be more dangerous than battling a pack of desert jackals.
“This is the only water for fifty miles. It was probably just a pack of desert beasts. They have to drink somewhere.”
“I do not believe jackals did this, but as I said, there was no sign of beasts at present.” Kael turned back toward the oasis, his gaze lingering on the only source of life-giving water in the area. He nodded his head slightly. “Okay. It should be safe to water our animals, but I do not recommend staying any longer than necessary.”
“You worry too much, my friend.” The caravan master waved away the concerns of his guard captain. “Let’s get some water and prepare for the rest of our journey.”
He flipped the reins, and the lead wagon of the caravan slowly started moving toward the oasis. The rest of the wagons followed, a dozen mounted guardsman in black robes flanking the procession.
The animals—both the camels pulling the wagons and horses ridden by the guards—grew more and more agitated as they approached the oasis, but with a little coaxing the procession pulled into the sheltered oasis without major incident.
The ground of the oasis had been torn up as if something had been digging in the sand, though no tracks remained to indicate what kind of animal had done it. Several of the precious, shade-giving palms had been uprooted or knocked over. Whatever creature had caused the disturbance was nowhere to be seen, though.
Kael dismounted and directed the wagons into a defensive circle as if they were making camp in a hostile area as opposed to taking a water break in the mostly sheltered and hidden oasis. He directed his men to stand guard and only water their horses two at a time.
“What are you trying to defend us from?” the caravan master asked.
“I do not know,” the guard captain answered. “And that worries me more than if I knew we faced a hundred rabid jackals.”
***
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Despite Kael’s misgivings, all the horses and camels were watered without incident. Because of that, the caravan master had decided to rest the animals until the sun started to set. Worry in the pit of his stomach prevented the guard captain from resting himself, and he continuously circled the oasis looking for signs of the creatures that had caused the disturbance.
He saw no signs of the creatures returning, but he did find claw marks on a tree that had been partially knocked over. The gashes were deep and long and were clearly made by a very large and very powerful beast. Nothing Kael had ever seen or heard of could have done it. At least nothing that should be in the desert.
Maybe one of the giant bears that roam the mountains in the far north could do something like this, he mused as he traced one of the deep gashes with a finger.
“Kael!” Someone called from the caravan, draw his attention away from the gash in the tree. There was a note of concern in the call but not panic.
He stood and started back toward the watering hole and wagons. When he emerged from the small copse of trees where he’d been studying the damage done by the unknown creatures, he found the majority of the caravan—wagon drivers and guards alike—standing at the edge of the watering hole pointing at something else completely unknown.
A black oval about as tall as a man hovered just above the surface of the water twenty feet from shore. It shimmered in the desert heat and heat waves seemed to spread outward from it in all directions. A dark mist swirled around the unknown object and was slowly spreading across the surface of the water.
“What is it?”
“Is that what disturbed the oasis?”
“What do we do?”
“Something is moving inside it!”
The voices of his men and the caravan drivers were urgent, but they sounded curious more than worried.
The last statement hit him a moment before Kael’s world changed forever.
A small, winged creature burst from the black oval. Its near-naked body was a deep crimson, and it wore only a tattered brown loincloth. Small black horns protruding from its head.
The creature hovered in the air in front of the… portal was the only word that came to Kael’s mind. It looked around at its surroundings for a moment then leaned forward, flapped its wings, and shot forward.
The winged monstrosity sped toward the closest person, a man Kael recognized as one of the wagon drivers and reached out with clawed hands.
“Look out!” Kael yelled, but the man just watched in confusion as the toddler-sized creature slammed into him.
And tore out his throat.
Blood sprayed the men around the unfortunate man and broke the spell that had frozen them in place.
The guards quickly responded to the attack and two swords impaled the winged monster before the dead man’s body hit the ground.
A dozen more of the winged creatures erupted from the dark portal and zipped toward the men near the edge of the watering hole.
Kael started running.
Two more wagon drivers fell before the guards could form a defensive wall, and then the battle turned. With the element of surprise gone, the small, winged creatures were no match for the experienced guards. Small, red monsters fell to the ground, dark blood oozing from their bodies.
One of the monsters noticed Kael rushing toward the battle and flew toward the charging man, thinking a lone opponent to be a better option than the formation of guards that was cutting down its fellow monsters.
Kael pulled the scimitar from his waist as he ran and met the flying creature with a deadly strike. The blade severed one of the monster’s wings and it crashed into the ground. The guard captain spun around, raising the curved blade over his head, preparing to deliver a killing blow.
Time slowed as Kael brought down the blade. He took in every detail of the creature and knew that this monstrosity was from some other place. It was from a realm of nightmares and demons that was known only in fairy tales and myth. There was no doubt that this creature did not belong in the Kingdom—or anywhere else in the world, for that matter.
Kael’s scimitar cut the creature in half.
Before he could turn back to the main battle, a message slammed into him. It was like text from an ancient parchment was superimposed over the world for an instant, the words instantly searing into his mind.
Name: Cinder Imp
Imps are among the lowest form of monsters in the Infernal Realm and are frequently used as fodder to gauge an enemy’s strength. That does not mean they are harmless. Sharp claws and fangs can easily rip and tear flesh from bone while their wings allow them to attack from any angle. Large groups of Cinder Imps can easily bring down higher level foes.
Keal stumbled and nearly fell.
What was that?!
And what the hell is a Cinder Imp?!
The growls of monsters and war cries of men drove those thoughts from his head, and he resumed his charge toward the main battle.
He skidded to a stop as the last of the Cinder Imps was cut from the sky. The same questions that were running through his mind erupted from the mouths of the remaining caravan drivers and guards.
“What were those creatures?”
“I got a message that called them Cinder Imps.”
“What do you mean a message?”
“And what is an imp?”
“I’ve never heard of such a creature.”
“Where did they come from?”
Kael was only partially paying attention to the conversations. Most of his attention was on the mysterious black portal that still hung in the air over the watering hole. The words from the mysterious description repeating in his mind.
Infernal Realm.
Lowest form of monster.
Fodder…
“It’s not over!” he cried out. “There’s going to be more.”
As if summoned by his words, a figure leaped from the portal and splashed into the water below. The human like creature thrashed around for a moment before standing up. It stood around three feet tall and was covered in wrinkly, spotted green skin. It had a long nose, pointed ears, and a sharp chin that jutted forward. It wore a loincloth similar to the Cinder Imp and carried a crude, stone headed club in one hand.
Kael received another message as more of the creatures leaped from the floating black oval.
Name: Pit Goblin
Goblins are one of the most common monsters in the Infernal Realm and the universe at large. They are frequently among the first creatures to attack during a large scale assault. They are small but vicious and can overwhelm unsuspecting foes by sheer numbers. Even if they don’t survive the assault (which they frequently do not), they soften up their enemies for what comes next.
He was not encouraged by the description of the small green monsters but didn’t have time to worry about what might come next. They needed to survive the goblins first.
Kael cleaved the first goblin in two with a powerful strike of his scimitar. The next monster to attack was quickly beheaded. All around him, his guards stabbed and slashed the monsters, taking them down almost as quickly as they leaped from the portal.
Almost.