Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

the furniture.

    In the main camp at the bottom of the hill, Samuel was pulled abruptly out of his sleep by the first tremor. Malloy was already on his feet, while the other two companions were missing.
    “Come on, get up!” he yelled. “We have to get out of here.”
    Samuel quickly dismissed the last clouds from the dream world, which were still lingering in his head, and did as Malloy ordered. Jumping to his feet, he ran outside.
    Once they were in the open, Samuel quickly realized what was happening. An earthquake was shaking the entire camp, the ground wiggling in every direction. The simple act of placing one foot before the other was now an arduous task. The boy had to concentrate and focus all his energy simply to remain upright. All around him, warriors were running scared, seized by dread and terror. Panic spread among the men like a wildfire in a dry summer. Even the most hardened men were now howling in horror, falling to their knees to pray for their lives.
    “The old gods are angry at us!” called an old man.
    “Vortigern has led us to the gates of hell!” cried another.
    Samuel looked at Malloy, who was right next to him, also trying to maintain his balance. Both men looked each other in the eyes, not knowing what to do.
    Malloy opened his mouth to speak, but a terrible growl suddenly interrupted him.

    On the hilltop, Morghan was stumbling in the direction of the king’s tent, trying as best he could to keep his balance. Suddenly, an infernal roar made him stop in his tracks. It was a long, cavernous and profound snarl, which seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. For a moment, it smothered even the rolling tumult of the tremor.
    The growl went on for several terrifying seconds and when it finally stopped, the tremors still gaining in strength, a second thundering roar resonated in the sky. Or maybe it originated from within the hill itself—it was impossible to tell.
    All around, soldiers and guards were running, cowering under whatever shelter they could find, before it ultimately crumbled on them.
    The advisor carefully crept to the edge of the hill, until he was able to identify the work they had done during the previous day. Earlier, the men had set up a wooden fence around the hill, next to which they had started to pile up stones to make a rampart. Now, all that Morghan could see was the boulders rolling down the hill, crushing every tree trunk in their way, leaving a trail of rubble.
    Within minutes, the work of thousands of men was reduced to scattered piles of debris.
    Backing away from the edge of the cliff, Morghan turned. All of the officers’ tents had crumpled, the fabric now covered by mud and dirt. A little farther away, the foundations of the fortress had also collapsed into piles of rubble and shattered wood. Looking to his left, he saw that nothing was left of the small tower they had built before sunset. Just like the rampart surrounding the hillside, the work of countless men at the top had been reduced to nothing.
    And still, the thundering roars and the infernal shrieks resonated from within the hill’s heart.
    “My God, where are we?” whispered the old advisor.

    “Sam, help me out!” shouted Malloy.
    Samuel turned toward Malloy and saw his friend holding a wool blanket, trying to put out a fellow warrior who was on fire. The poor man must have lost his footing and stumbled into one of the bonfires. He was now rolling and screaming in agony, while Malloy tried to duck out of the flames’ way and put him out at the same time. Samuel froze for a moment, struck by the horror he was witnessing.
    Then he snapped back into reality. Running toward his friend, he grabbed a second blanket and tried to put out the fire consuming the unfortunate man.
    “Stop rolling away from us,” Malloy ordered the poor man.
    After less than a minute, though it seemed like an eternity to Samuel, they finally put the fire out. Unfortunately, the man was severely burned, and after a few more seconds of excruciating agony, his heart gave out.
    “Damn it!” whispered Malloy.
    “What is going on?” asked Samuel.
    “We’re at the gates of hell, Sam! That’s what’s going on. Our donkey-brained king has brought us where even the Saxon army would not dare follow. That fool led us into the very mouth of Hades.”
    “What?” Samuel yelled over the sound of the tremors. “You’re not making any sense. Why would he bring us to such a place?”
    “Who knows why this king does