From the Depths of Evil

From the Depths of Evil In the 41st Year of the Reign of Arka-Dal The Kalahari. One of the most foreboding and hostile wastelands on the Earth. During the First Age, a race of short people known as the Bushmen dwelled here. In those days, one could actually survive the desert if one knew how. Once, long ago, there was water, plant and animal life. Then came the Great Disaster and all of that vanished along with the Bushmen. Today a solitary figure walks among the dunes and scrubby vegetation. He passes a long dead river and tall, weather-eaten rocks. During his travels, he has heard no birds, not an insect. The Kalahari is silent save for his labored breathing and the crunching of the dry sand beneath his feet. His journey took him from Thule to the kingdom of Kush and down into southwestern Africa. He has come here on a feeling, if you will. A feeling of dread. It forced him to come to the desert and search, even though he wasn’t sure what he searches for. After many days of travel and walking many miles, he came at last to a flat, sandy valley secluded between three rocky cliffs. The valley is on the southern edge of the desert. Beyond this, a grassy plain stretches several miles to the south and east. Beyond the plain lies the Zulu Empire. Merlin took a drink from his never-empty canteen and wiped his lips as he surveyed the valley floor. Like the rest of the Kalahari, it, too, was quiet. Unnaturally so. “What draws me to this place?” he wondered as he descended into the valley. “Why am I here?” He saw nothing out of the ordinary, yet there was something about this place that made the end of his nerves tingle. That’s when he heard it… The air became filled with a deep droning sound that brought to mind images of thousands of men chanting a single note. The sound caused the hair on his back of his neck to stand up. He sat down on a rock and watched in silent disbelief as the sand on the valley floor stirred in countless places. The movement became more pronounced with each passing second and made it appear as if the entire valley was liquefying in some manner. Then it stopped. Merlin was about to breathe a sigh of relief and leave the valley when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He turned and watched open-mouthed as one muscular, dark-skinned arm after another punched its way up through the sand. This strange sight continued until the entire valley floor looked as if it had been planted with some weird, terrifying crop. Then, one-by-one, tall, lean and muscular warriors with long, braided locks, clawed their way to the surface. As each man escaped from the sand, he snapped to attention and faced north. Within an hour, every square foot of the valley was covered with them. They neither moved. Nor breathed. Or opened their eyes. They just stood there at attention as if awaiting orders to march. But from whom? Whoever it was, was powerful enough to summon them from the Abyss of Hell and bind them to his will. For what purpose? There was nothing within hundreds of miles, save crumbling temples and abandoned ruins that had almost been reclaimed by nature. Why would anyone raise such and army in this miserable place? He obviously wanted to keep his intentions secret and away from prying eyes until the right moment. Anyone who would dare to raise such and army surely had sinister plans in mind. It was now up to Merlin to find out what those intentions were and who was behind this. He decided to return to Thule. To conserve energy, he walked back the way he’d come. As he trekked across the desert, he telepathically made contact with Gorinna. The Red Witch was, at that time, investigating a similar situation some 3,000 miles to the north in the region known as the Frozen Wastes. “What did you see?” he asked. “The same as you. There were thousands of them. They rose from beneath the frozen tundra and stood there without moving or breathing,” Gorinna replied. “Interesting,” Merlin thought. “Very,” Gorinna agreed. “Any idea what they are or who is behind this?” “Not yet. It’s safe to say that whoever’s behind this is not of peaceful intent. We must proceed with caution until we find out what’s going on. Have you heard from Peace?” “Not since he went into the Libyan Desert last week. Merlin, this worries me. Every fiber of my being is tingling. I fear that a great evil is behind this. There are enough Black Warriors to overrun every major empire on Earth,” Gorinna warned. “Indeed,” Merlin said. “We’d better warn Arka-Dal,” Gorinna urged. “I will leave that to you while I investigate this matter further. I’ll see you in Thule when I know something more,” Merlin replied. “Be careful,” Gorinna said. “I shall. You do likewise,” he said as he broke contact. Arka-Dal looked up at Gorinna. “Thousands you say?” he asked. “Countless thousands. Both groups cover at least two square miles. One is gathered about 2,000 miles north and east of Iluk. The other is in the middle of the Kalahari,” she replied. “Both are far beyond our jurisdiction. Which of our allies is closest to Iluk?”Arka-Dal asked. Leo thought for a moment, then sat back and folded his hands over his ever-widening belly.