Conflicting Views ~ Part 1

INTRODUCTION

    The story that follows was inspired by a set of sword-and-sorcery first-person shooter PC games created by Raven Software (http://www.ravensoft.com), namely Heretic®, Hexen® and Hexen® II, which share the story of a trio of dimension-traveling evil beings known as the Serpent Riders. I have made extensive use in particular of the contents of the guidebook The Chronicle of Deeds which comes with the last of the said games.

    In these games, you travel through a wide variety of visually rich and stunning environments and battle hordes of demonic beings and creatures with sorcerous weapons of every description. Each game takes place in a different world-setting, but the essential plotline is the same: one of the three Serpent Riders has left your world in ruins, so you set off to settle accounts with him. If you have not tried these games yet, you might like to consider doing so!

    The present story takes place at a locale on the planet Thyrion, the setting for Hexen® II, at a time when the three Riders have been defeated — or so it seems. I shan’t reveal more here.

    Hope you'll like it. :)

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      After studying for a moment the curiously upturned eaves of the monastery’s richly ornamented roof, William the crusader brushed the snow off his glittering mail coat and long, blonde hair, and struck the large gong with his warhammer. The portal creaked open slowly and he walked through the entrance into the monastery’s main hallway, viewing with disdain the murals and sculptures of countless deities adorning the walls and ceiling, the dragon forms coiled around the crossbeams and pillars. As far as he was concerned, they signified nothing but idolatry and spiritual darkness, and he wondered if he should open his Holy Book and read aloud the Devotional Hymns so as to ward off whatever evil might emanate from the countless symbols of lies.

      It was the one-hundredth anniversary of Eidolon’s defeat. While the simple folk of Thyrion celebrated their triumph over the last Serpent Rider though, those versed in the old lore knew that the Evil One and his two brothers had never truly been slain. Their bodies, their physical shells, yes; but their spirits had retreated to a barren world in the Aether, there eventually by sorcerous means to construct for themselves, even though it would take many hundreds of years, new physical forms even mightier and more indestructible, that they could again engage in their perverted quest to build an empire of a thousand worlds. The Three Vile Ones had promised as much with their dying breath, every one of them; and of late the astrologers had discerned troubling changes too in the appearances of the stars near the world that presently served as the Vile Ones’ sanctuary.

      What, then, could be done? It was with this urgent matter in mind that William had been sent by King Martel to the glacial, mountainous land of Tulku, far removed from the green and pleasant clime of Blackmarsh and the civilizing light of the One True Faith, to hold counsel with Chang Tao, one of Thyrion’s greatest alchemists, whose vast knowledge could perhaps be drawn upon in devising some means to truly destroy the Riders for good, spirit and all. Yet doubts had also plagued William’s mind all along regarding Chang, suspicions fuelled all the more by the extravagant depictions of gods and fantastic creatures now surrounding him: are not the people of Tulku pagans of the deepest dye, as plainly evidenced by these abominations? And how much could one trust such heathens, anymore than one could trust the necromancers?

      William thought of the necromancers and the gruesome nature of the foul magicks in which they dabbled, and he was almost tempted to puke. Truly they were at heart little different from the Serpent Riders, and truly death was their just desert.

      But presently the passageway opened out into a large, dimly lit hall where ornate lanterns hanged from a high ceiling and wisps of fragrant smoke drifted from a large golden incense burner situated atop an altar straight ahead. A great statue of a seated figure with a benign and serene-looking countenance greeted William’s blue eyes from behind the altar, sitting cross-legged atop a giant lotus flower and flanked by two vertical scrolls with an undecipherable script written upon them.

      “Runes!” cried William with alarm, his whole body instinctively tensed in preparation for whatever ill effects might be set in motion by his sighting of the evil writings.

      “No, honored guest, these are not runes,” answered a pleasant voice. “They’re but verses composed in a tongue unfamiliar to you, that’s all.”

      William turned in the direction of the voice, and before him stood a lean, well-built man with a long, wispy moustache and hair bundled into a topknot, wearing but a sleeveless white cotton vest and long trousers of embroidered blue silk. The man smiled. “Sir William Richard, I presume?”

      William managed a stiff smile. “Yes, it is I,” he replied. Somehow he felt a certain uneasiness about the slant in this man’s eyes.

      “Alchemist Chang Tao here, Sir William,” greeted the man with a fist cupped in the other hand. “This poor pursuer of wisdom is most honored that one such as you should see fit to grace his humble dwellings with your presence. May I show you to the guest room where I may provide you with refreshments, please? You must be weary from the long journey.”

      So this was Chang the alchemist! Just what sort of person would he be? What sort of things would he know? What are his beliefs? These questions flashed through William’s mind as he gazed upon the handsome, sun-bronzed face, which looked anywhere from thirty to seventy years of age. The years seemed to blur on him. William had heard rumors that the people of Tulku knew of special martial arts involving the augmentation of one’s internal mana to raise the body into a state of perfect health; perhaps that might have something to do with it…

Please click on link below to proceed to
"Conflicting Views ~ Part 2"