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The Dyrcian Mines sat half way up a very large hill, at the Southern end of the Krucian Sierra, in the Kingdom of Esthark. Roads wound about the forests and rocky bluffs that jutted out along the way up its sides. Something unnatural traversed the thick forestation, dead set on a course for Hollontown, which happened to be on the far side of the hill from the mines.

It had traveled long and far. The sun had nearly set which meant, to the creature, that the time had come for it to move again. The monstrosity peered forth composed from the corpses of several beasts merged into one massive and contorted horror. Boars, wolves, skunks, topped with the head of a stag all mangled into a humanoid twist of conjoined flesh that dripped a black ooze from between the joints where its body was held together. The sound of three clockwork engines on a nearby road caught its attention.

The monster rose up on its hind legs to a height of fourteen feet to better examine, hidden past the tree line along the road, as two men and a woman rode down the disused and dusty pass. Close enough to follow, it rustled the occasional tree branch in passing. None of the three that rode down the path seemed to notice it stalking behind them. It kept off the road and maintained its distance, for the time being.

The three travelers rode their motorized velocipedes along the unkempt cobblestone road to the Dyrcian mines. The motorized velocipedes looked similar to bicycles except that they had powered assistance which ran off a clockwork engine. They required the occasional pedaling to wind up the gear trains, sprockets, springs, and caliber within.

They stopped at the entrance to the mines. Two young men, well dressed in matching attire, disembarked their vehicles. Both wore brown frock coats over gray shirts with high turnover collars, brown pants that matched their coats, and dark brown spatterdash boots barely blemished.

One of the two gentlemen, Benjamin, looked to be in his early twenties with a fair complexion. He stood at five foot ten inches tall with wavy brown hair trimmed to a short length cut, parted to the side and swept back. He secretly bore the mark of a death ribbon, but kept it well concealed and unmentioned.

The second gentleman, Clogwid, appeared to be similar in age and height, but with sharper facial features. His skin looked more like roughened porcelain than flesh, his green hair swept back in a similar fashion to that of his companion's. His every movement precise, mechanical, and direct as he dismounted the velocipede and did a check of the equipment pack he wore.

The third rider, Lashta, disembarked then set aside a face guard to reveal a female with blue skin, long blond hair, and pointed ears unmistakably clothed as a mechanic. She wore the shirt and pants of a worker, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a wide carpenter's belt lined with tools hanging about her hips. Thick leather boots adorned her feet. She unhooked a brown leather tube from her work belt, untied the safety catch and unrolled it to survey a map that looked to be in fairly good condition, though age had given it a stiff-papered quality. The trio wore goggles at their brow and backpacks for the mission at hand.

Night settled on the horizon and the two young men sparked up lanterns that had been hooked to the back of their motorized vehicles. They gathered the lights and brought them on approach to the mine.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” inquired Clogwid.

“I’m absolutely positive,” Lashta insisted.

“It’s just, with how old that map looks, I expected the mines to look older,” continued the green haired, stiff motioned, gentleman. He knelt next to the mine cart tracks, and held his lantern ahead, forced to squint in the dim light.

“We should get a move on. I have other appointments to keep,” she responded. The blue skinned woman walked into the mines with the map held out before her. Lashta gave pause to read it over then asked, “You two coming, or should I try to navigate the mine shafts blindly?”

The two men looked to one another and then proceeded to follow.

“I know that I keep saying this,” began Benjamin, “but I have a doubt or two or ten.”

“I know, but just think of the treasure buried down there. We’ll be able to finally afford moving the shop to somewhere with higher paying customers,” Clogwid replied.

The Dyrcian mines proved to be a dark and dank series of passages with pitfalls that might have claimed the party of three were it not for the map that led them along. They traveled hours through corridors that would have paralyzed a claustrophobic, before they reached what they sought. The stone surface looked to be the same gray rock face as everywhere else throughout the convolution of mine shafts, except that painted on this wall was a big blue 'X'.

“That’s where we have to dig?” asked Benjamin a bit suspicious at the apparent ease after hours of climbing through a rocky maze.

“X marks the spot,” Lashta responded with a smile.

“Convenient marking,” commented Clogwid as he adjusted the straps of his backpack.

Lashta removed her backpack, set it in front of Clogwid, then said, “You two, get digging.”

Benjamin moved to her backpack and removed some pieces of machinery. Clogwid pulled a rip cord on his own pack to trigger a sizable drill that assembled itself and disentangled in segments. The machine shifted from his back to unfold over his shoulders. Benjamin assembled two hand grips from Lashta’s back pack and attached them to the drill that had latched on to Clogwid by the shoulders and waist. He then took out the components from his own backpack, which looked to be another clockwork motor that fit onto the back of the drill. With a firm press and twist Benjamin snapped the power mechanism into place.

“Ready?” asked Clogwid, as he pulled down the pair of goggles from his brow to cover his eyes.

Benjamin and Lashta pulled their goggles down and then he patted Clogwid on the back.

Clogwid pulled a second rip cord, further back atop his shoulder strap. The engine cranked and started. He took hold of the control levers, the shot put-sized spiked tricones rotated up to speed on a two-foot long spindle, and he drilled into the blue ‘X’.

The drill cut through the rock and made fast work of it, while Benjamin and Lashta stood back to avoid flying debris as it chipped away. The drill made a quick tunnel, just large enough for a person to fit through.

Having finished his work, Clogwid took a step back, unhooked the drill by the backpack's shoulder straps, and set it on the ground. Benjamin passed Clogwid a handkerchief. The green haired brother wiped the rock dust from his face, “Thank you.”

“What are brothers for?” replied Benjamin.

Lashta wasted no time and climbed through the hole in the wall with her satchel out. The brothers looked into the chamber and saw piles of jewels, copper, gold and silver coins across the floors and filling the shelves along the walls. They stared in awe for a moment, having never seen so much wealth in their entire lives.

“That’s a lot of zarings,” said Benjamin, taken back by the gleam of gold from the light of his lantern. The farthest wall of the money-filled room caught his attention as he saw a large circular, metallic plate with a turn wheel in the middle.

“Yeah it is,” acknowledged Lashta. She pulled out a satchel, ready to fill, “You two just come all this way to look at it, or are you going to get some for yourselves?”

The sound of a blood curdling roar shrieked out through the tunnels, from the direction of the mine entrance.

“What in the world was that?” asked Clogwid.

“I'm guessing it's nothing good,” said Benjamin as he backed up against the stone wall of the mine tunnel, “We should hurry up, get in that chamber, then dim the lanterns.”

The situation suddenly became clearer to the brothers when the turn wheel, in the middle of the metallic plate on the opposite side of the chamber, spun about to reveal that it was, in actuality, the door to a vault.

“Lashta? What is that?” asked Benjamin as he saw light pour in from the heavy vault door on the wall opposite of the drilled hole.

“That would be the banker,” Lashta responded with a bit of a grin while she moved further into the vault, away from the brothers.

“Banker?!” exclaimed Benjamin.

The brothers, a bit stunned, looked to Lashta for answers.

“Yes, congratulations. You’ve abetted me in bank robbery,” Lashta smirked with a quick glance to the brothers before the banker took her attentions again.

“What’s all this then? You! How did you get in here?” shouted a short fat man at the vault door, dressed in the attire of a banker complete with, pin striped shirt, arm band and visor. Lashta ran at him, leaped, then delivered a powerful kick which landed square in his chest.

The banker hit the ground and Lashta turned to the pair, “Been fun you two, but now you’re on your own.”

Without a second look, she ran out through the bank’s vault door, past the banker, with a satchel full of gold zarings over her shoulder.

The banker stood up and blew a whistle before shouting, “Stop! Thief!” he blew the whistle again and toddled off after her as fast as his short legs would allow. The brothers had either been unseen or temporarily forgotten from the fray.

“What do we do?” worried Clogwid a bit worried.

“I don’t know…” panicked Benjamin. He looked down and picked up the map of the mines that Lashta had dropped. Holding his lantern’s light up to it for a better view, his thoughts were interrupted by a closer sounding roar followed by heavy, thudding, footsteps from the same direction.

“Benjamin?” asked Clogwid.

Benjamin looked to the map again before he took Clogwid’s lantern, “I’ve got a plan. Grab the drill and follow me.”

*****

The neoclassical city of Hollontown bustled in the early evening. People shopped the street markets. Its buildings packed in closely, very few reached over three stories in height. Hollontown proved to be an up-to-date city, with buildings of brick, wood and copper construction, many of which shared in the more modern advancements. Water, gas and steam pipes ran between the buildings to bring comfort utilities to the citizens. Near the center of the city sat the primary guardhouse of the Hollontown Gunsmith Guard.

A telegraph, that told of a disturbance at the Hollontown Bank, came in to the guardhouse and the reserve guards suited up. Their red armor had an effective, yet primitive, medieval appearance, complete with a helm and face shield.

In the armory each guard took one of the standard issue gun-spears; a shotgun made in the form of a staff, with the trigger and firing mechanisms half way up the neck of the six foot pole. The end had a dual-bladed bayonet with thick blades that looked like those of a halberd. Rather than a traditional magazine tube, instead it had an eight shot revolver clip. The reserve troop marched to the Hollontown Bank along the tightly packed cobblestone walkway of the city streets.

On main street, just at the edge of the city, outside the Hollontown Bank, one of the gunsmith guards suddenly dropped to the streets, dead on impact. His blood concealed among the red of his armor.

The clawed foot of a hideous, black and brown furred beast, stepped down upon the chest of the corpse in victory. It loomed as tall as the gallows, monstrous in overall size, as it walked forward. Blood dripped from the talons upon the tremendous hands of the monster that followed the small party into the Dyrcian mines.

The monster reeled back and let loose a howl to curdle the blood of all within earshot. It gazed, with haunting yellow eyes, upon the remaining guardsmen as they shook with fear. The guards pointed their gun-spears at the beast. A horrible grin spread from the mouth of its the stag-like head to show fangs the size of fingers.

The Guard Commander ordered the guardsmen to fall back, however, one failed to hear and remained before the beast. He trembled in his armor with his heart beating in his ears as he rushed the monster, jabbed at it with the spear end before it took grasp of his helmet. The guard fired off two shots before the grip of the black beast's hand tightened. The pain intensified to a degree that the guard could no longer keep hold of his gun-spear. He swung wild at the monster, with both arms, in attempt to loose the black beast's grip. Tired of the game, the black beast contracted his hand contracted into a fist.

The guard's headless body hit the ground and the black beast cast its gaze upon the others in his troop. Another a smile crossed its heinous face. It held out its hand and dropped the crumpled helmet on the ground then stomped forth towards the guards who had fallen back.

Three of the guards ran to the beast, off its left side. With gun-spears drawn they fired shot after shot. Though the bullets penetrated its hide, it did not slow down the monstrosity in the least. A fourth guard ran at it from the front and jabbed the end of his five foot-long gun-spear into the chest of the monster. While the weapon stuck a good foot deep into the torso of the beast, from a wound that sputtered black ooze yet the beast had not slowed. It swung its clawed hand at the guard and decapitated him without effort.

“Let none stand against me, for this town shall be my feast. I am Zaigreve, the black beast of the wastes and I shall devour this place till none are left,” the monster declared in a deep and sickening growl. It bore its fangs, wrapped a clawed hand around the gun-spear, and withdrew the weapon lodged within its chest. It looked over the metal staff, before mangling it with a squeeze of its massive fist.

Three more of the gunsmith guard approached the beast and unloaded their weapons into it. With nothing left to fire, they rushed the beast to slash at its hide.

Zaigreve turned, amused by their efforts. A single swipe hurled two guards through the air and they crashed down over thirty feet away. The third guard fell back. While he had dodged the slash, the armor slowed him in getting to his feet once more. With a mighty kick, the black beast of the wastes knocked the gunsmith guard through the wall of a shop behind him. The chest plate of his red armor collapsed in on itself and crushed the life from the guard upon impact.

A pair of guardsmen hid and cowered in an alleyway. They ducked behind an awning as the monstrosity strode by. It rampaged further into the city. They could hear crashes as it knocked over a cart and screams of death as it went after a horse. The two hidden guardsmen heard it disembowel and feast upon the animal alive.

“I don't understand. Where did this thing come from?” one guard questioned the other in a panic as he attempted to reload with shaky hands.

“I was there when it came out of the bank. We got a telegraph saying that there was a break in at the vault and when we got there that thing was bursting through the front wall of the building.” replied the other guard.

“Where is the City Summoner?” came the reply.

“Vellek? He was eaten. It was rather gruesome.”

“I can imagine, but then where is the City Sorcerer?”

“Sotiris? He retired this afternoon. Something about having to go on a long peregrination.”

“What's a peregrination?”

“I've no clue. Some kind of sorcerer thing, probably. I don't think we can win this one. We've got to retreat,” ushered the guard.

“Retreat to where?” asked the other guard. Though before an answer could be given, the pair was stricken silent with fear. They scrambled to ready their weapons and fled further into the alley as the black beast stared them down with bits of equine flesh hanging from its maw.

The monster shrieked at the guards and charged through the alleyway. The shots and stabs of gun-spears that pierced its hide, did not slow it in the least. It ran into the guards and trampled them. The black beast plowed into a building and continued through. It took out support beams and knocked large sections of the walls and ceiling upon the inhabitants inside. Steam pipes burst upon impact and then Zaigreve burst from the front wall of the building and onto another street. Claws dug into the pavement as the massive monster stopped in its tracks. Another hideous smile spread over its face as it stood with a fixed gaze upon another compliment of delicious guards.

The guardsmen backed away from Zaigreve as it stepped forwards with heavy footfalls that shook the ground. At that moment, a young-looking, tall, fiery haired, man clad in a red duster, trimmed with copper piping, stepped forwards from an alleyway, opposite the beast to intercept the path of the creature. The City's Sorcerer, former, stood fearlessly before the beast, adjusted his tall, red, stove pipe hat, that was garnered in a black grosgrain ribbon.

“It never fails. Some young inexperienced summoner makes a talisman beyond their ability and then something like you is suddenly walking free in the world again.” said the sorcerer, almost bored by the monstrosity approaching.

The creature gave pause before the sorcerer. It cackled to itself before it spoke, “I am the dark whispers of the blackest hearts to die in the wastes.”

“Lovely. Look, I'm hungry, tired, and very busy. I had friends in the gunsmith guard and you killed quite a few of them tonight, not to mention, Vellek,” said Sotiris as he pulled a strip of stiff, yellow, ten inch by three inch paper from his pocket. With his other hand he pulled a fountain pen from thin air. He wrote something on the strip in a strange, runic, language. His stomach grumbled and he continued, “I really haven't eaten all day. Probably stop by the tavern after this.”

“I'm the last thing you're ever going to see, spell caster.”

“As much as I hate to think about it, I'm going to see some things far worse than whatever it is that you are, far sooner than I'd like,” he said holding out the strip of paper before him, runic wording faced towards the black beast. “This is a talisman spell of holy fire. It takes three days to prepare and enchant the paper for a single talisman. Lucky for me, I try to keep at least one on hand at all times. If you would be so kind as to bare with me, it should just be a moment, now.”

The creature let out another blood-curdling roar, before it uttered a low growling speak, “Pathetic. You think I'm just going to lay down and die?” As Zaigreve leaned forward to lunge there followed a sudden flash of light from the palm of the sorcerer.

The talisman lit up in a golden beam that fired at the head of the beast, hitting it between the eyes. Its head suddenly burst from its shoulders in a blaze of white and gold fire. The beast stood still with a burnt stump upon its shoulders, where its head once rested. Green smoke emanated from the hole in its gaping throat. It stumbled forward and the massive frame of the black beast hit the ground with a palpable crash. Lifeless.

The sorcerer turned to the guards, “Salt the remains. Keep them in a circle of white birch ash for three days and then burn what's left. I've already sent a telegram for Edmuntle from Cross Spring. He should arrive by then and he'll help you with the rest. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the tavern for that aforementioned meal.”