An Altar of Evil

                  Hjalmar Geir made significant progress, traveling upward through the valley caverns. He could tell the ambient light began to increase. He noticed more signs of organic material, yet never enough to create a torch. As he traveled, he found systems of common pathways and tunnels improving his ability to travel upward at a faster rate. Hjalmar Geir could hear more signs of life indicating his upward progress, but also the possibility of running into the monstrous dragon-like warriors he faced before. The Tyrn warrior listened with every new tunnel, corridor and pathway, hoping to avoid the larger creatures, or larger hordes of battle dragons. So far, his travels continued without conflict.

                  Then, rounding a corner, he could see a soft orange glow illuminating a section of the tunnel he entered. Firelight. It could mean a cluster of battle dragons, or it might be a torch he could use. Hjalmar Geir drew his axe, and taking cautious steps, slowly approached the orange glow. The dark tunnel he traveled down continued farther, but a short offshoot from the tunnel looked to lead into a room. A sense of warning shot through Hjalmar Geir. He could feel something was off about the place. He gripped his battle axe tighter to prepare for battle.

                  Hjalmar Geir slowly looked around the corner of the adjacent corridor. He held still and listened. No movement or sounds of life could be heard. A powerful stench emanated from the glowing room. The Tyrn warrior entered the short passageway, approaching the fire-lit area. He stepped closer and closer, listening for any signs of life. The room held silent. He couldn’t even hear the flicker of the firelight, which seemed odd. The smell of death increased. It smelled like decomposing flesh. Hjalmar Geir stepped forward into the opening, covering his nose with his furry arm.

                  As Hjalmar Geir entered the room, his senses ignited a significant warning. He felt sick to his stomach. Not from the awful smell, but a sense of dread and doom he felt as he entered the room. As he looked around, he saw dozens of candles strewn about providing the fire light. Some looked newer than others, many had melted, merging into other candles, creating shelf-like candle clusters that provided the dim firelight.

                  Hjalmar Geir stopped.

                  He could see a dragon at the front of the room. This one had larger wings and looked more dragon that the warrior dragons he faced earlier. It didn’t move. It looked like it lay on its back on a slab of stone. Hjalmar Geir walked closer. The dragon looked to be tied down to restraints built into the masonry around what looked like a large altar. Multiple lacerations covered the dragon’s body with its chest cut open.

                  Hjalmar Geir shook his head at the disturbing scene. The dragon appeared to be a sacrifice of some sorts, designed to harvest the blood of the dragon. Although even more disturbing in Hjalmar Geir’s mind was how recently the sacrifice must have taken place. The dragon lay in a state of decay, although not enough to create the thick stench of death. As he looked around the altar, he could see other decomposing dragon body parts and bones. Hjalmar Geir shuddered at the sight of such malicious death. He wondered if the battle dragons would attack and kill the winged dragons. They didn’t appear to be enemies when he saw them with Yerik and his companion.

                  “What is going on in this valley forsaken by the Gods? What evil is at hand here?”

                  After studying the altar further, it didn’t look like a willing sacrifice. All signs pointed to a forced sacrifice which the dragon fought against. Then he noticed the bloodstains of the dragon followed a carved-out section in the masonry. The carvings looked to flow down into the floor. Hjalmar Geir stepped back and could see a large dragon skull with massive intricate horns carved into the floor.

                  It appeared as if the sacrifice was meant to bleed the subject, allowing the blood to flow down into the carving, then draining into holes in the floor. Hjalmar Geir shook his head in disgust. He then noticed many hand-crafted effigies of a dragon with large horns. Though they varied in style and construction, it appeared as if they represented the same dragon.

                  Hjalmar Geir felt worse and worse the longer he remained in the room. His senses screamed at him to leave. Whatever forces were at work, they seemed far deeper than a simple cult of murderous dragons. He could feel throughout his whole soul that something evil seethed through the workings of the valley.

                  A slight rumble echoed from above.

                  Hjalmar Geir looked upward. He could hear movement. The action and movement increased. It sounded like a chase. Hjalmar Geir wondered if Yerik and his friend escaped. The tyrn quickly looked around at the candles for some potential light, but they all seemed to be merged into massive wax chunks. After assessing the options for light, he decided the small candles would never be substantial light, especially if he ran. Trusting his eyesight in the darkness, Hjalmar Geir left the room to locate the noises.