To the uninitiated it would have seemed as if two mutant hybrids of crustacean and man. The likes of which only the demented realm of the Dark Gods could conjure, had been vomited forth to ply the land of mortals. The two hulking brutes were at complete odds with the flowing, organic, clean lined architecture which spiraled around them. Columns glistened in ethereal light. Flying buttresses carved from coral, wrought with masterful skill, reached like blindly groping fingers over the narrow corridor which barely allowed the two abominations to walk abreast of each other. Softly glowing runes were carved into the coral buttresses. They were imbued with eldritch power, and for countless centuries had fulfilled their duty unflinchingly.
The two creatures held two pike like staves in a clawed fist. The pikes were crafted of spines of some ferocious sea beast and glowed with and inner luminescence which had stubbornly clung to existence long after its owner had died. Occluded by the two hulking brutes was a more diminutive figure, yet no less imposing. He was garbed in crystalline armor and bore a headdress bedecked in spikes, fashioned in the likeness of some mythical sea god. In his hand he loosely held a gleaming trident.
For many hours the small party had traversed the labyrinthine pathways and corridors which girdled the continent of Lustria’s northwestern coast., beneath the surface of the ocean. Finally they came upon a seemingly innocuous, rough hewn hole in the wall. Beyond the poorly wrought entrance lay a chamber of claustrophobic proportions with room enough for the two crustacean like creatures to maneuver. A second portal proceeded the first, and once they had taken flanking positions, the crustaceans motioned their charge towards the portal. What followed was a cramped corridor. The corridor opened up into a large chamber in compete contrast to the previous poorly wrought entrance chamber and constricted corridor.
The chamber walls were fashioned from the brilliant, rainbow colored scales of mighty sea creatures. The floor was constructed of clean cut tiles of pure pearl. Directly across chamber lay a beautifully and intricately carved arch which led directly into the scale wall of the chamber. The arch was embellished with scenes of ancient wars betwixt foul daemons and aquatic beasts. Arranged around the arch was a most peculiar sight.
Haphazard wooden shelves and tables, laden with a menagerie of ingredients from squirming worms to floating eyeballs. A prone figure seemed to be struggling with something under one of the rickety tables. As if drawn from some folktale, she was the stereotypical hedge witch, short of stature, a patched up pointed hat could be seen over her shoulder, and garbed in a tattered old dress. She seemed to be grumbling to herself, every now and then punctuated by a curse as whatever she fumbled with eluded her focused efforts. Cautiously Cerberus approached the woman.
“Excuse me I am…â€Â
“May Nurgle’s rot take your manhood!â€Â, she cursed over her shoulder, not even deigning to affix the impudent whelp who dared disturb her concentration with a glare.
“What have those fish folk sent me now hmmn? Another one of their burly, crabbies hmmn?â€Â, she questioned, her gaze still directed under the table.
“No offense intended my loveliesâ€Â, she crooned to a second set of crustacean guards who flanked the entrance to the chamber. They dipped their heads in acknowledgement and chuckled softly to themselves.
“I believe he is the one the Council calls Kaito, mistress.â€Â
“Ah is that so…?â€Â, her tone bemused.
“AHA!â€Â, she shrieked in triumph. Spinning around with a speed which bellied her apparent age, she rounded upon Cerberus, clutching a clam in her hand. She proffered the cracked clam to him, batting her eyelashes like some maiden in far off Altdorf.
“Would my gestie be liking some eatsies hmmn? They are so devilishly tricky, they slip and slide the little buggers but they can’t get away from me, no no, they can’t get away from me….â€Â, she glared intently at the clam, as if daring it to so much as flinch. Her head suddenly snapped back to fix Cerberus an accusatory glare.
“What are you waiting for? Much is needed to be done, and no time to lose. Off you go through the dragon’s eye, and where you’ll end up no one knowsâ€Â, she cackled. When Cerberus made no move to obey, going so far as to grant the hag a curious look, as if questioning her sanity, the woman grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the arch with a surprising display of strength.
“Gather your wits about you human, there is no time to waste!â€Â, she pushed him roughly towards the arch before scrambling back to her table and rummaging through her ingredients. She grabbed a fistful of eyes, a pinch of what seemed to be grave dust, and piled a small mound of gold dust on the clam before scurrying back to the arch.
Cerberus shook himself from his reverie and addressed the madwoman.
“The dragon’s eye?â€Â, when he noticed that the hag wasn’t paying him the slightest attention, and had even begun humming softly to herself, he roared in outrage.
“Damnation woman! Answer me!â€Â
She gifted him a reproachful look, wagging her finger at him and tsking under her breath.
“Now, now no need to shout and get yourself all riled up. The dragon’s eye…â€Â, she gestured at the arch, “is a relic of ages past. It is a doorway into the netherworlds, into dimensions sealed by ageless, primordial forces, older than the dark gods themselves.
“The Old Ones…â€Â, Cerberus whispered. The crone shook her head vigorously in agreement, her hat bobbing comically.
“How does one travel through the dragon’s eye?†The hag burst out into laughter, dabbing at the tears of mirth which sprang from her eyes with a handkerchief she had pulled froth from the folds of her crimson gown.
“You do not travel through the dragon’s eye, it travels through you!â€Â
“What nonsense is this how can a gate….â€Â, he paused as he felt the attention of an entity older than the gods themselves. All the while the hag had been going about some obscure ritual, bedecking the arch with the preserved eyes, sprinkling gold dust around the arch, and smearing the fleshy bits of the clam on the arch. As if in response to her unspoken invocations, an ancient presence had been awakened. The hag pet the arch affectionately, crooning softly.
“What manner of devilry is this woman?!â€Â, an image of a gargantuan dragon’s eye burned itself into his mind, and only then did he realize the full import of that which he stood before. The gate was a relic from the times in which the celestial beings known as the Old Ones had walked the Earth. The mighty Old Ones, masters of time and space had constructed massive edifices to transport them across the cosmos, gateways through which they could make quantum leaps through time and space with frivolous ease. The two most renown of such portals had been the gates in the North and South pole, but the existence of other gates was known. Less powerful portals were used by the Lizardmen and their Slaan who could transport entire armies across continents with ease. Yet who was to say that the number of gates ended their? The Old Ones had resided on the Earth for quite some time, how many gates had they and their servants constructed during their stay? And one such gate stood before him.
Its history burned into his mind. With the coming of chaos both of the polar gates had shattered, and many of the minor gates had been over run. The dragons, keen in their wisdom, had recognized the potential danger of this gate, and had attempted to bind it with their own magic, to prevent the forces of the Dark Gods from ever springing forth from the edifice. The rampant winds of magic were too chaotic for such a ritual, and although the dragons had succeeded in binding the gate, they had done so at the cost one amongst their number, the venerable dragon which had led the ritual. His soul had been stripped from his mighty form and imprisoned within the gate.
The gate was then lost to the seas following tectonic shifts as the Slaan unleashed their mighty powers against the thrice cursed spawn of chaos. Lost to the ocean depths, the gateway had remained undisturbed until a sentient, aquatic race had discovered the device. Attuned to the forces of magic, the race’s wizards and shamans had sensed the structure’s incredible power and sensed the ancient entity trapped within. Years of isolation had taken their toll and the ancient dragon had lashed out at any who sought to commune with it. The aquatic race built their home around the structure, taking up residence in a Lizardmen Temple City which had sunk to the ocean depths. The fishmen had used their primitive magic to cast certain wards and bindings upon the gateway to channel its power in a similar way as the abominable Black Pyramid of Nagash, as a locus of magical power, a means to focus the winds of magic and subvert a meager fraction of them to their will.
The Fishmen Council had eventually appointed a maniacal woman as guardian of the gateway. Her origins were unknown even to the venerable dragon. For whatever reason, the hag was able to becalm the dragon, and gleaned much information from it.
The smell of burning sulfur brought Cerberus’ focus back to the chamber around him. The stench grew stronger. The hag woman had leapt up and was tracing sigils through the air with her wrinkled fingers, all the while darting to and fro grabbing ingredients and piling them together. She favored Cerberus a wide eyed look before screeching,
“Go Go! You must go while you have the chance!â€Â
He was about to inquire where he was suppose to be going when he noticed two things simultaneously. The first, was the materializing form of an accursed Tzeentchian Horror. The second, was that the scale wall behind the arch seemed to writhing, as if loosing form. Without a backwards glance he sprinted through the arch and straight into the wall.
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Madame Quo-quo was very irritated. The gibbering many armed gigglies were throwing a party without her express permission. Popping up like one of those infernal moulds which just didn’t know how to play nice, the gigglies were materializing all over the place.
“Time out for you mister!â€Â, she shouted, gazing reproachfully at the closest giggly. The gibbering, rapidly mutating creation laughed insanely and lurched at the crone. Madame Quo-quo slapped the meany across the current position of its face. The giggly whimpered as it flew across the chamber, unraveling, and vanishing from existence.
The fishmen had engaged the other gigglies with mighty sweeps of their pointy sticks. The gigglies faltered under the ferocious assault of the fishmen, and were slowly beaten back to the realm of the Dark Gods. Satisfied that for the time being the fishmen were dealing with the carousing, disorderly gigglies, the crone grabbed her large satchel bag and dumped the heaps of piled ingredients into it.
Screams permeated the chamber as the two crustaceans which had escorted Cerberus to the crone’s lair, backed into the chamber. One was alight with dancing, blue-purple flames, not so much making an orderly retreat as racing, madly into the chamber. His companion backed slowly into the chamber, his pike swirling in a defensive pattern before him as he attempted to batter back the fusillade of magical fire being directed at him. A trio of flamers appeared, dousing the unfortunate guard in a withering hail of mutagenic flames.
Madame Quo-quo snuffled indignantly. The pyromaniac hooligans were causing quite a calamity. They needed to be taught some manners. She hefted her bag, clasping it shut, and grabbed her umbrella in her right hand. Crudely fashioned, it nonetheless served it purpose well. Madame Quo-quo dabbed her fingers into a brightly colored paste which lay on the table, and daubed her face in a disturbingly similar way as the more primitive tribes of man. She let loose a keen war cry before charging the flamer trio.
The flamers gave a collective high pitched laugh before redirecting their fire on the foolish, charging hag. Madame Quo-quo opened her umbrella and pushed against the wave of fire. The umbrella was unharmed, glowing faintly as it buffeted the arcane flames. With a shout, she rounded upon the incessant hooligans, caning them repeatedly with the handle of her umbrella. The enchanted handle loosened the daemons hold upon reality with every blow, and in no time the flamers were vanquished back to the infernal realm of their master.
The air hummed, whirling, as the barrier betwixt the mortal plane and the realm of the Dark Gods was further blurred, the forms of hundreds of daemons began to materialize.
“Mistress, you must leave!â€Â, the crustacean shouted to be heard over the persistent humming, whilst struggling against half a dozen newly formed horrors.
The crone moved as if to reply before being tackled. A newly formed flamer spat coruscating flames into the space she had occupied only a moment ago. Madame Quo-quo’s savior was none other than an old levitating broom. It waggled in the air slightly, as if reprimanding the crone as to her lapse in common sense.
“I don’t need any saving, I would have been fine without you. Thank you very much!â€Â, she jabbed her finger to accentuate every syllable.
The broom tipped slightly, as if shrugging, before floating away from the ungrateful hag.
“Don’t get your twigs in a bunch!â€Â, she said while grabbing the rear of the broom and yanking I back. She leapt atop of the broom, kicked the handle with her heel, and gave a loud cluck. The broom shot forward with the force of a comet.
“Clean up for mommy dears.â€Â, she called over her shoulder before, her and her broom exploded in a puff of bright pink smoke.
