Original Fiction: “THE WEIRD OF IRONSPELL” by John R. Fultz

“The Weird of Ironspell” by John R. Fultz
Illustrations by Alex Sheikman
6. The Tomb of Azazar
The crypt lay on an uncharted isle off the wild coast of southern Mydrithia.
A triple-sailed war galleon dropped anchor in the narrow cove, but only five men came to shore. If there had been any living sentinels watching from the jungle depths, they would have counted only two of the group as human men. The other three were strangelings: two tall Amurions bearing longbows and a gaudily garbed gnome. They stood on the wet sands and surveyed the wilderness that smothered the slopes of a dormant volcano. There was no sign of civilization old or new in this ancient haunt of green shadows.
Ironspell ran a hand through his shaggy black beard and stared into the jungle, looking for invisible signs. Tumnal pulled the rowboat inland and hid it between two jutting boulders.
This desolate chunk of earth bore the stink of long-buried sorcery, of that Ironspell was sure. But it was a reek that had fooled him before.
“Are you sure this is the place?” asked the gnome, dusting sand off his vermillion robes with a gnarled hand. “Looks nothing more than a place for a good shipwreck.”
Ironspell spat upon the brown sand. “It’s here. Somewhere…”