|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 8:28 am
So, this is a fantasy book that I am working on. I've actually been working on this for quite a long time now, at least 8 years. I keep rewriting it. But now I'm at a place where I like it. And am trying to just keep writing more everytime I have some time.
All creatures and unique names are (C) to A.K. Lange/Minyaagar
Without further delay-
Chapter 1
The unmarred beauty of the snow covered barren stretched out in front of him. The ice covered, weighed down trees of the forest he had just come out of, swayed in the strong south wind. The ice glittered like crystals in the fading light of the setting sun. They tinkled merrily like wind chimes, sounding out a melody as the frigid wind blew them around. He pulled his chilled chapped hands out of his thin, ragged coat and blew on them to warm them up. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, wiggling his fingers to keep them from freezing.
He had been walking for days without sleep because he hadn’t yet found a sheltered place where he could rest. He glanced back at the thick forest he had just left. With a shudder, he turned his eyes back to the snow-laden trail before him. He could sense that he was being watched, hunted by something.
The only animal that came to mind that could live in a place as barren and empty as the tundra, were wolves. Not just ordinary wolves, but the giant ones, the ones called werens by the rangers that paroled the wilderness. They were two times the size of wolves and had long pointed teeth that hung out the sides of their mouths, and their fur was white as the snow. They were known to be more feral and vicious than wolves, and their sense of hearing, smell, and sight were ten times better. It was next to impossible for prey to elude them for long.
He knew that if he didn’t find an enclosed place, the werens would catch him easily. He stumbled through the deep snow, knowing that while it slowed him down considerably, the werens’ large paws would help them stay unhindered by the powdery snow. He struggled on, frantic to find some sort of place to hide before the night enfolded the forest and tundra in its dark mantle.
He found himself suddenly staring down a steep hill that faced a mountain surrounded at the base by a vast forest. It would take a long time to get through the forest and to the mountain. He was just about to give up all hope of escaping his persistent shadows, when he saw a billow of smoke near the edge of the forest towards his right.
“Where a fire is, there’s got to be people who will help me against the werens.”
He spoke aloud to himself, his voice cracking from lack of use.
He started running as fast as he could. It was hard running with his every step sinking in the deep snow so quickly. Behind him he could hear the flying paws of the werens as they chased him over the loosely packed snow. He kept up his pace. He went about a hundred or more yards and then began to falter when he heard the werens gaining steadily on him. He could see a flickering fire only a few yards away when he felt a weren jump on him from behind. He yelled for help, hoping that who ever was at the fire would come to his aid, while he desperately tried to fight off the weren's attack. Footsteps sounded running towards him. He was fighting off the werens as best as he could when he felt teeth tear into his leg, and heard bows twang and werens’ yelp around him. Then the pain from his wounded leg waved over him causing him to black out into welcomed darkness.
* * * * *
Kendrig stood watch over the fire and the sleeping form of the wounded lad. When the dwarf had caught sight of the huge white wolf-like creatures tearing into the boy, he had felt the rage come and had welcomed it. In moments he and the two elves had dispatched of the entire lot of werens, Calhoun later having identified the monsters.
About daybreak the elves and the healer woman, Mahira had stirred awake and had gone off in search of breakfast and herbs for the healer’s work. Calhoun had woken up moments later and had washed his face with a handful of white snow, than he had started practicing with his weapons. First he had dealt with the broadsword, and then the long sword, and then on to the battleaxe, and mace. Kendrig had watched with interest, while he rubbed his beard thoughtfully. He saw the use in knowing how to use whatever weapon one could lay his hand on, but he could see that Calhoun’s knowledge of each weapon suggested a master of war. No one, save Jorl Kunbar had ever been that good with every weapon he picked up. Kendrig suspected that one day, Calhoun would become a better master of war than any dwarf, human, or elf had ever seen in their lifetime.
He heard a rustle of furs, and turned to look over at the lad. It was at that point that he had seen that the fire had almost gone out. He saw the boy turn his gaze on the fire, trying to concentrate on it.
“How’re you doing boy?” He asked in his deep gruff tone.
The boy’s gaze shifted towards the direction he was sitting and rested on him. Kendrig was surprised when the boy took him fully in, slowly letting his eyes study all that was Kendrig. He couldn’t help but wonder if the boy could see that his eyes were deep chasms of bluish black, and that he was distinguished among his people for his long wavy wispy gray beard. The boy would never know that the scar that ran all the way down his nose to the bottom of cheekbone he had received when he had risked his life to save his king. He definitely knew that the boy would never notice that while he was burly like most make dwarves that his muscles were better toned and worked from his long years of fighting alongside the elfin and human races.
“I’m okay, just a little sore.” The lad replied, keeping his eyes on the Kendrig, still looking him over.
“Well that’s where you’re wrong lad. You happen to have several broken ribs, some nasty fang wounds in your left shoulder and a mangled leg.”
Kendrig turned to nod grimly at Calhoun, who was now standing on the left side of the dying fire, letting the smoke blow into his face.
Calhoun was in his early thirties or so. He had a short beard and wore his reddish brown hair shoulder length. He was of average height, a slim build, with the exception of the muscles in his arms, which were a trademark of every swordsman Kendrig had come across. His callused hands also gave away the tell tale signs of having working with many different weapons in his short lifetime.
Kendrig saw the boy’s gaze shift at the sound of footsteps, and turned to see Tosin, Arun, and Mahira walking up to the campsite. Tosin stuck out like a sore thumb, or so Kendrig had thought since the day he had met him. The reason for this was the fact that he had short silver white hair, ocean blue eyes, pale bluish white skin, and a regal way of walking with his back completely straight, holding his head aloft. Not only that, but his royalty was given away by the fact that he still insisted upon wearing the jade amulet, which was his families’ royal crest.
Arun had long brown hair, dark green eyes, dark tanned skin, and a more easy going way to him, which had been evidence that he had been raised by humans instead of his own people. It was partly the fact that he was more jovial and had a more friendly personality no matter who he was around, which went against the formal quiet nature that most elves had around strangers.
Mahira was stunning to behold with her long dark blonde hair, and hazel eyes, which seemed to smile at people all the time. She was about five foot three, which was about two feet taller than Kendrig, a foot shorter than Calhoun, and two feet shorter than the two elves were. Kendrig couldn’t help but wonder how she would measure up to the boy. In her deerskin dress, with the arms guards sewn to it, the mail shirt she was wearing, and the daggers stuck in the top of her tough leather boots, she looked more dangerous than the boy did.
“Well I suppose introductions are in order. I’m Calhoun. Kendrig is the dwarf, the lady is Mahira Jonescu, Tosin is an Elfin Prince and Arun is the other elf.” Calhoun told the boy.
“Hi, I’m Anwar Hedaras.” He replied.
“Hedaras? As in Varigan Hedaras?” Kendrig demanded a sudden reverent look in his eyes.
“Yes, he was my father. Why, does his name mean something to you?”
“You’re kidding, right? Varigan Hedaras is known as one of the greatest druid warriors of all time! Not to mention he’s one of the greatest heroes of the Auraedon wars!” Tosin exclaimed, disbelief and worship showing on his features, giving him a rather eerie look.
“He was just a man who lived and died a long time ago.” Anwar replied.
“He was more than just a man, he was the greatest sorcerers that has ever lived, in past and present times.” Arun stated.
“If my father was so powerful, how come he didn’t stop the people who murdered him and my mother ten years ago? Sorcery doesn’t just disappear! Why the hell would he want to die? Tell me that!” Anwar demanded.
“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he had died.” Arun replied a stricken look on his face.
“Maybe, the man we all heard of wasn’t the same man that you knew, Anwar. People change, men can grow weary of their lives and don’t want to go on any longer. Whatever the reason, Varigan couldn’t stay any longer.” Calhoun told him.
“Actually, I don’t believe that. Its more likely that Varigan and your mother died trying to protect you. Sometimes to work the greatest spells the casters have to give up their lives. Varigan and Vannaela wouldn’t have died in vain they loved you too much. I’m certain that they gave up their lives to give you the chance to live yours.” Tosin replied.
“You sound as if you knew my parents personally.”
“Knew them? Vannaela was my cousin, so we’d be family,” Tosin replied.
“And Varigan was one of my instructors back when I was just starting to learn how to use a sword and bow. So, how old are you exactly?”
“Seventeen,” Anwar replied. “Almost eighteen. My naming day is in another season or so.”
“Have you had any formal weaponry training at all?” Calhoun asked him.
“Not really. I can manage throwing daggers and using staves quite well though.”
“Well, I’ll have to start teaching you how to use a sword. Everyone should know how to use one when it comes down to it.”
“Well I do know some basic parries and blocks, Zecry’s father managed to teach us before he passed away.” Anwar replied, stretching his arms above his head.
“Doesn’t that hurt, Anwar?” Mahira suddenly asked, her face showing concern.
“Does what hurt, Mahira?” He asked, wondering what she was asking about.
“Stretching, you have cracked ribs that would hurt of you stretched, why doesn’t it bother you?” She asked curiously.
At this the others turned to regard him with surprise, they had forgotten that he had been wounded and also wondered what was going on. Anwar found himself speechless with amazement when he realized that he had inherited yet another magical trait from his father.
“It was said that my father had a magic ability that when he was wounded his body healed itself rapidly. I guess its’ just another ability that I have inherited from him.” Anwar explained.
“Now that is quite interesting, I myself heard of Varigan having the ability but I never really believed it until now.” Tosin admitted.
“Well you seem to be a person that will continue to surprise folk that think they know you.” Kendrig commented.
“Yes, so he does. Someone’s coming over that hill in the distance. It’s got to be the person we’ve been waiting for.” Arun observed with his keen sight.
“Well it’s good to know that he’s nearby, why don’t we start taking down the camp so we’ll be able to move once he arrives.” Calhoun suggested.
Without another word they started taking down the camp, while they waited for the person to come into view. Tosin threw dirt into the flickering flames, which caused them to sizzle and die out like a firefly being swatted by a giant hand. The others started getting the supplies together and packing them up. Anwar found himself helping Mahira gather herbs from around the trees for her medicinal bag, which happened to be low on the common herbs prominent in the area. Footsteps echoed from the forest path to the right of them. Anwar turned around and what he saw made him go cold inside. The man turned and stared at Anwar, his face going ashen white when he saw him. It was the mage that killed his friend Zecry.
He tried to keep his emotions in check and stay in control but the next moment they exploded forth and he couldn’t stop himself. In a mere second he was on the man, with his dagger to the man’s throat. Before he could hurt the man like he had the urge to, he felt arms pull him off and restrain him.
“Anwar, what’s gotten into you? Why did you attack him? We need him if we want to go on with the mission.” Calhoun admonished him severely.
“He didn’t happen to tell you the reason why he’s been wandering around in the wilderness? Well, maybe you should have him tell you.” The man snickered.
At this Calhoun turned to look at Anwar. What he saw in Anwar’s eyes scared him greatly. They were filled with raw anger so great that it was evident he had dark intentions towards the man standing in front of him. Calhoun sighed, wondering if accepting Anwar into their group so readily had been such a good idea.
“Anwar, you need to tell us what happened.” Calhoun told him.
“Do you have a day to spare? Didn’t really thing so,” he said then continued. “I tried to help a friend escape from prison. He had been arrested and blamed for a crime that he didn’t commit. We got caught trying to escape and he was put to death for the crime and I was tried for treason and banished from Gernon. I was banished because I tried to reason and give evidence to help prove my friend’s innocence. When they sentenced him to death I got rather angry and threatened to expose the truth and bring my friend to justice even if it meant killing the ruler. They took my threat seriously and banished me. The only other thing was that I was forced to watch this sorcerer murder my friend very inhumanly. If I were able, I would kill him for the horrific end he gave my friend. No man, no matter the crime should have to die that way.” Anwar finished angrily.
“He left one fact out, he’s an untrained mage or sorcerer and to prevent him from harming the king and to prevent him from harming the king and the officials the Elders had to bind his magic. He could very well murder us all, if her were to figure out how out to unbind it.”
At this Anwar glared at him with disgust. “ I wouldn’t kill them, they saved my life. But I may kill you, given the chance.”
“Enough Anwar. What’s your name, mage?”
“Kildone Lumholdt.” He supplied.
“Alright, Kildone. Isn’t there some sort of vow Anwar could take that would ease your mind about him?” Calhoun asked.
“Yes, the wizard’s vow. But would you take such a vow with me, Anwar?”
“For the entirety of the trip, I would. But once we complete it, you’re fair game.”
“Well, I suppose that will have to do. Give us about five minutes and we’ll be done.” Kildone told the others.
Then he and Anwar walked into the forest and out of sight. They stood there waiting uneasily, wondering if Anwar would keep his promise once alone with the Mage. Suddenly they heard a loud crack and white lightning shot from the forest path in all directions, illuminating the forest in an eerie greenish white glow. They backed up when they heard footsteps and made ready with their weapons, only to see Anwar and Kildone stride out of the forest side by side, both glowing with power. Kildone inclined his head and said.
“I apologize, I should have warned you that that was going to happen. The wizard’s vow restricts each of us from harming the other with our magic. Now, we need to continue on to Jerunel where we are supposed to await our final member.” He informed them.
“That out of our way, are you sure that’s where we’re suppose to go?” Kendrig asked with a deep frown.
“I believe that it would be a good idea for you to not question what I have been told by Maven, dwarf.” Kildone said, clearly agitated by something.
Something about the way he had spoken made Anwar uneasy, but he didn’t know if he should say anything or not. The others didn’t seem to note the venom in Kildone’s tone, so Anwar made a mental note of it, so not to forget. There was something wrong with Kildone’s reaction to his attacking him, but Anwar couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Well then we had better get going if we want to get there by nightfall tomorrow night.” Calhoun said, picking up his pack and strapping it onto his back.
Everyone in turn did the same. Anwar took Mahira’s and strapped it to his own back. When the remaining packs had been evenly distributed they set off towards Jerunel. While Kendrig took the lead, Anwar found himself in the middle of the company walking besides Kildone. Though he kept his eyes in front of him, he knew that Kildone was watching him closely and this disconcerted him greatly.
“So Kildone, where are you from?” Arun asked, joining them.
“My family was originally from Jerunel, but that was decades ago. My family has since made their home in the Highlands of Farsc in Midria.”
“Really? That’s interesting. Hey, have you heard of the House of Meor? They’re supposedly closely related to the mages that created the Rihskule, or so I’ve heard. Is it true?” Arun asked.
“Oh its true. Also it’s known that any mage or elf could do such a thing by choice or force.” Kildone replied with a curved sneer in the corner of his mouth.
Arun frowned at the thought of such a thing happening to him or one of his people. “I’d never do that.” He stated adamantly, and then fell silent.
The seven companions continued on their way, fording streams, and traveling through the dense forest towards the west. The sunlight glittered through the leafy branches of the trees, making patterns on the forest path underfoot. Small animals scurried out of their way into the undergrowth and banks of snow. Birds scolded them from the trees, upset by their passing. Anwar noticed Mahira studying the plants as she walked. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the path, and then walked over to a snow bank and stooped down. The next moment she began pushing the snow onto the path and started gathering leaves of a small plant that was plentiful under the snow.
“What is it Mahira?” Calhoun asked, stopping the procession behind him, and glancing back at her.
“Ghost Valera, if its’ boiled down and made into a poultice, it takes poison out of wounds and if eaten internally it takes poison out of a person’s system.” She explained. “It will come in handy if we encounter the Rihskule, you know they tend to soak their weapons in poising before a fight.” She added with a shiver.
“What does it look like?” Anway asked stooping down to help her with gathering the plant.
‘They’re kind of a silvery-white color and the leaves are rounded like a coin.”
Anwar found some and began to collect them in handfuls. Then Arun, Tosin, and Calhoun joined the both of them and began to gather armloads of the leaves, and piling them on their cloaks. Kendrig stood and kept watch, with a grateful look on his face. While Kildone stood looking a pit perturbed by the others’ stopping.
“I think it’s a good think that the druids sent a healer along with us, who knows what maladies we might have gotten without you around, Miss Jonescu.” Kendrig stated.
At this Kildone snorted, but the others ignored it, thinking that he had probably been bothered by something in the air. Anwar felt unease seep into him once more and wondered what Kendrig had said had bothered the mage. Kildone wasn’t acting very much like himself, from what Anwar remembered and he were beginning to think that he might have been possessed or something much worse.
“Why thank you, Kendrig. Now don’t take all of the plants, leave as many as you can, we need to leave some so others can find it and use it if they have need of it also and so more plants will grow. Well I don’t seem to have anymore room in my pack fro the rest.” Mahira said, staring at the large pile, which now consisted of what everyone had picked, still in front of her.
“We’ll put the rest in our packs, its better to be safe than sorry.” Calhoun said, shedding his pack and loading the pockets up with the leaves.
“When we get to Jerunel, I’ll boil up some of the leaves and make them into poultices. Then I’ll make elixirs from the rest.” Mahira explained as she got to her feet.
“Ahh’m glad that we have ya, Mahira.” Kendrig told her as he took up the lead and the journey was continued once more.
They had walked about a hundred yards when Tosin, the second in line came to a sudden halt. “Shh.” He said, putting up his hand for silence. They all came to a stop and looked at him for explanation. His eyes narrowed suddenly, a glow coming into them. “Grydors.” He spat.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 8:37 am
Chapter 1 cont.
“Where?” Calhoun asked, looking around cautiously, drawing his sword from its scabbard.
Everyone tensed, wondering what Tosin was going to say next.
“They’re a few hundred yard behind us. It can’t be good if Grydors are this far into Gernon, it means that the sentries along Fenren Bay have fallen.” Tosin said in a worried tone.
“Who sent them?” Anway said aloud to himself. “ Ahh…yes, Slevarg Voldt. The damn sorcerer that has been trying to kill me wince he learned of what I was capable of.” He muttered under his breath.
“Kildone, I’m going to have to ask you to take the bond off of my magic, we are all in very real danger and you’re going to need my help or we’ll never get out of this alive.” Anwar said, turning towards Kildone all of a sudden.
Kildone looked at him rather skeptically at first then sighed, and chanted the counter spell under his breath.
“Thank you, Kildone. Wait here this won’t take long. Slevarg you’re mine.” Anwar said, his eyes narrowing and then disappeared into thin air.
“What the hell!” Arun exclaimed in shock at his sudden disappearance.
“He’s very talented, much more than most wizards, mostly due to the fact that his father was a druid and his mother was one of the only sorceresses.” Kildone said in a rather bored tone.
“Be prepared for anything that might happen.” Kendrig advised, pulling his battleaxe out of his belt and took a battle stance in front of Mahira. Tosin readied his bow while the others pulled out their weapons and created a circle around him and Mahira. Mahira took her daggers out of the top of her boots and stared around uneasy about actually having to face an enemy. Kildone readied his mage’s blue fire and waited on the outside of the circle that had gathered around Tosin and Mahira. The yells and sounds of stomping feet cam closer and closer until the ugly wrinkled faces of the Grydors were in view. Then before any of them knew what had happened, the Grydors turned to stone right before their eyes, they stared confused as the statues began to crack and crumble into dust.
“Look out behind you!” A voice cried out in warning. In a flash Tosin spun around and let his arrow loose. He kept notching his bow and shooting down the Grydors that were advancing on them, from behind. Within moments the group was separated and having to try and defend both themselves on all sides from the Grydors. It was a that time when a group of Grydors surrounded Kendrig and Mahira, who had managed to stay together, and grabbed hold of Mahira and started to drag her away.
Mahira frantically stabbed the Grydor repeatedly in the arms with her daggers only to have them struck out of her hands. The grydor drew its dragnor from its belt and wrapped it around Mahira’s neck and began to suffocate her. The sharp glass spikes dug into her throat drawing blood, she started to black out when suddenly the pressure was released. She tried to loosen the dragnor, but the spikes were caught too deeply in he skin and muscles of her neck.
Two large callused hands drew her hands away from her throat and gently dug the spikes out one at a time. Mahira glanced down to see Kendrig’s face grim with concentration as he finally got he last one out. Then he drew a bandage out of her pack and wrapped it right enough to stop the bleeding but loose enough not to hurt her throat any further.
“Are you alright lass?” he asked, with a roar so she could hear him above the din of battle.
She couldn’t answer him; her throat hurt so much. The next moment her eyes glazed over in pain and she sank forward in a dead faint. Kendrig caught her before she hit the ground and laid her on her side.
“Someone, come o’er here and help me!” Kendrig called out, guarding her still form as best as he could, slaying any grydor that came into his axe’s range.
Out of nowhere Anwar joined Kendrig. With a blast of magic from his fingertips he slew a grydor that had been ready to deliver Kendrig a killing blow. Kendrig threw him a grateful look, only to see him bending over Mahira’s still form, chanting something under his breath. Kendrig turned his attention back to the battle to allow Anwar to complete his work on Mahira.
“She should be better now. Get her and the others out of here, Kendrig. I’ll take care of the grydors.” Anwar told him in a calm, serious tone barely loud enough for him to hear.
Kendrig stared after him for a moment then lifted Mahira onto his broad shoulders and made his way through the Grydors, warding them off with blows from his battleaxe. He found Arun in trouble, surrounded by three Grydors. Kendrig distracted two of the Grydors long enough for Arun to slaw the first. Then they slew the other two together.
“Come on boy, Anwar says to get everyone away from here.” He yelled so Arun could hear him.
Arun gave him an incredulous look but saw the dead serious look on his face. They split up and Tosin went to aid the others and get them off of the battlefield as best as he could, while Kendrig made his way through the grydor horde to get Mahira to safety.
“Calhoun, Kildone, Tosin, Anwar said to get out of here so he could get rid of the Grydors.” Arun told them as he joined them, getting in between them.
“HE MUST BE INSANE!” Calhoun and Tosin yelled when they finally head him.
“Yeah he probably is, but he insisted pretty strongly.” Arun said shrugging his shoulders.
“Hold the Grydors off and get to safety if you can, I’m going to go find the boy.” Calhoun said, and suddenly disappeared into the frenzied swarm of Grydors.
“I hate Grydors! Where did they come from any way?” Tosin yelled over his shoulder at Arun, as he let off another deadly arrow.
“How should I know? I’m just as puzzled as you are.” Arun replied, loading his crossbow and started helping Tosin pick off Grydors, as they started to retreat off the battlefield.
“They have to have been sent by someone, I can’t help but wonder who that someone is. Also, who is this Slevarg Voldt?” Kildone mused to himself, as he killed another grydor with his mage’s fire.
* * * *
Calhoun struggled through the swarming mass, swiftly killing each grydor that got in his way. This caused the other Grydors that saw this, to want him dead even more. Calhoun felt himself grabbed from behind by strong sweaty, slim hands. He spun, catching the grydor off guard, slaying the creature with one swipe of his sword. Before he could go another step, the Grydors around him caught hold of him and threw him down onto the ground. His sword flew out of his had flying through the air and cleanly killing one of the smelly beast above him. The grydor fell to the ground with a loud thud. A grydor pulled the sword out of his dead companion and brought it down on Calhoun. Calhoun clenched his teeth as he felt muscles in his arm tear. Calhoun grabbed the sword’s blade, and ripped it out of the Grydor’s grasp. He spun it around caught the grydor in its midsection. Without waiting to see if there was enough damage done, Calhoun pulled the sword out and scrambled to his feet. He got out of the way just in time for the injured grydor to fall into the very spot he had been just a moment before. Suddenly it seemed as time slowed down, the advancing Grydors slowed to a slow run and then, to his amazement, were engulfed in bright angry red flames.
“I told you to get out of here!” Anwar said angrily, grabbing Calhoun by his good arm and pulling him away from the horrendous smell of burning grydor flesh.
“Did you do that?” Calhoun asked, turning to look him in the face.
“Yes.” Anwar said, with a nod and the expression of fury on his face fading to one of regret and shame.
Calhoun stared at Anwar, realizing that even though it had been necessary killing the Grydors had almost been near unbearable for Anwar to do.
“Don’t just stand there, there are more coming. We need to find the others and get through to Jerunel before they find us.” Anwar told him.
Calhoun nodded, and they hurried through the mass of dead Grydors that littered the ground. Anwar burned as many of the bodies as he could as he walked past them; leading Calhoun to the area he had seen the others go. There they found a cave and went inside, where they found Mahira sitting to one side, holding her head looking rather sick. When she heard their footsteps, she looked up at them and looked them over with a healer’s expert glance.
“What happened to you?” both Mahira and Calhoun echoed.
Mahira rubbed her neck, her wound now only a mass of white scars.
“Kendrig said you did something to help me, Anwar. Did you really heal me?”
“I did what I could I didn’t want the dragnor wounds to get infected. It’s the worst sort of wound one can get.” Anwar told her.
Calhoun stared at him, surprise etched on his features.
“Are you okay Calhoun?” Mahira asked, turning her attention to him.
“No, I’m not. A grydor used my own sword on me. It’s a good thing he didn’t hit anything vital.” Calhoun informed her, with a grimace of pain.
“Anwar, did you turn those Grydors into stone?” Tosin asked as he entered the cave.
“Yes, that was I.” He replied in a quiet tone.
“Well thank you for warning us of the ones behind us.” Calhoun told him, as Mahira went about dressing his wounded arm.
“What are you talking about? I was attacked before I could warn you about them.” Anwar replied, a confused look on his face.
“What? How can that be? If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Mahira asked.
“Has anyone seen Kildone?” Tosin asked all of a sudden.
“Look at that!” Arun said, pointing to a blue mist that was swirling around the remains of some grydor bodies, which left only ashes in its wake. The mist disappeared, revealing Kildone standing with his head bowed to the ground.
“Kildone?” Anwar asked, walking over to him, feeling apprehensive of what might happen.
Kildone lifted his head, and stared at him with his piercing bright blue eyes. Anwar felt them scrutinize him; it felt as though Kildone was looking straight at his very soul. For some reason he felt as though there was something different about Kildone but he couldn’t really tell what it was that made him think so.
“Anwar, tell me, how long has it been since you’ve destroyed anyone with your magic?”
“This was the first time.” Anwar replied.
“I find it surprising, you show the control most mages don’t achieve until after five years of training.”
“It’s a misconception the wizard and Mage councils have, that untrained magic users are a danger to themselves and others. Any magic user is born with the ability to control their magic to a certain extent. It just takes practice to get better at it. Besides, I don’t need a mage or wizard to teach me. Its people like you that want me dead, and it’s not because I’m untrained. But you knew that already, now didn’t you?” Anwar asked.
“What you say is only partially true. There are some that want you dead but there are more that wish for you to live and learn what you are capable of doing with the magic abilities that you have from being a Halfling.” Kildone told him.
“Yes, so you claim. I’d rather have nothing to do with either side. One side wants me dead and the other wants to use me for what I can do. I’d much rather just do what I can to help others.” Anwar replied, turning away from Kildone.
“Fool, they don’t want to use you, they want to help you learn what you’re capable of.” Kildone said.
“Yes, but on their own terms. I don’t find that very helpful.” Anwar muttered under his breath.
“So, what’s that plan?” He asked as he walked into the cave with Kildone at his heels.
“Well now that Calhoun’s bandaged up, we should probably head out.” Kendrig said.
“Is he well enough to travel Mahira?” Anwar asked.
“He should be. He’ll be in a bit of pain but I can always administer just enough Terafin to keep the pain away and keep him awake and on his feet.”
“Let’s get a move on folks, we still have one left of our party to meet. We can’ have him waiting too long.” Calhoun replied, pulling his pack on and buckling it around his waist.
“I could heal you if you’d like, Calhoun.” Anwar offered.
“No thanks, I’d rather let it heal naturally, no offense or anything.” Calhoun replied. “Besides its better to let the body heal on its own instead of hurrying the job along.”
“As you wish.”
“We should head up through the Farsc mountain pass, it may be out of your way a bit but whoever is behind the grydor forces wouldn’t think we’d go that far out of our way.” Kildone suggested.
“It may take too long exposed going that way, it would be better to travel through the old dwarf tunnels. That way they would never detect us, since no one but the dwarves know where it is.” Kendrig said, leaning against his axe handle.
“Use being exposed isn’t the problem. Besides, no one knows what kinds of creatures dwell in the depths of the old dwarf mines. We’d probably be in as much or more danger there than on the Mountains of Farsc.” Kildone argued.
“How is being exposed not the problem? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a wall to protect my back than to be killed by a damn Grydor out in the open!”
“Enough talk, w can’t keep arguing like frightened children. We have a task to do, so let’s make a decision and start moving. Who’s for going through the dwarf tunnels?”
Two hands raised in answer. When Kendrig saw the others’ un-raised hands he scowled darkly and grunted in disgust.
“I guess that leave the other five votes for going through the Mountains of Farsc with Kildone leading the way.” Calhoun finished.
“Wait a minute mow, I’m the guide and your not giving my job away!” Kendrig protested.
“If you’ve forgotten, dwarf, I grew up in the area. I know shortcuts, byways and secret passages that will get us to Jerunel in record time. But if you’d rather take several days to navigate the mountains, be my guest.” Kildone replied.
Kendrig’s eyes grew hard and all the muscles in his back grew tense with anger. Bu before he could make a move towards the mage, Anwar’s hand fell on his shoulders stopping him from moving. Anwar in return shot a chilling glance at Kildone saying.
“If you’re going to lead us then why don’t you do your job and stop talking? If you’ve forgotten, there are other forces after us.”
Kildone glared back at him but kept silent as he grabbed his staff angrily and strode out of the cave. The others quickly followed after him each in turn shooting Anwar an odd look as they passed him. Kendrig gave a low rumbling laugh and clapped him roughly on the back.
“Your not a bad fellow at all, lad. I think you and I will be good acquaintances by the end of this.”
“Please, call me Anwar.
“Whatever you say, Anwar.” Kendrig replied, strangely in a very good mood.
For the first hour or so, the going was rather easy, save for their feet sinking into the deep powdery snow. Though Anwar noticed that the elves were so light footed that they didn’t even make a foot impression in the snow. It made him rather envious of their grace and the ease in which they moved over the snow. It was too bad; he thought wryly, that he hadn’t inherited the gracefulness from his mother instead of her sorcery abilities. It probably would have made him one heck of a ranger, had he decided to go into that work.
Before long the trail Kildone took began to grow steeper, so much so that it began to have even an effect on the elves. So they weren’t breathing heavily like the dwarf next to him, or trembling with exertion like he and Mahira were, or going pale and slowing down like Calhoun, so not to pass out, But Anwar could tell that they had to work harder at climbing the hill even though their demeanor or body movements didn’t change. Kildone was the only one that it didn’t seem to affect at all. He stopped suddenly and glanced back at them, causing Arun to run into him.
“What did you stop for?” Arun asked, his breath slowly coming back.
“We really need to hurry, we’ve got something on our trail. Can you tell what it is?”
Arun turned around and focused on something in the distance, only to have his ruddy face go pale white. He ran down to the end of the line and pulled Calhoun close, whispering something in his ear.
“What’s going on? What’s following us?” Kildone called out.
“Shut up!” Tosin suddenly hissed, pulling Kildone and Mahira to the ground.
Anwar followed his move and glanced back down the trail and tried to focus. He’d been able to use the “eagle” vision of the elf kind before, but it usually took a lot of concentration and left him with terrible headaches for days afterwards. This time it hardly took any effort to zero in on the moving forms in the valley below them.
“What the hell are those scaled creatures that are following us?” Anwar demanded in a low tone.
“Those would be Skorlauths. They’re believed to have been killed off during the Auraedon War, but apparently that assessment wasn’t accurate.” Tosin replied in a very grim tone.
“Can’t you get us out of her?” Kendrig demanded, suddenly very near Kildone, in a very eerie tone.
“I can try, but it’s not very easy to elude Skorlauth for very long.” Kildone replied.
“What’s a Skorlauth?” Mahira asked,
“Believe me woman, you don’t want to know.” Kendrig replied quickly.
Kildone took several moments to study their surroundings before he began to move. Staying low and out of sight, he crawled over the snow to an outcropping of stones near the edge of the mountain. Once the others arrived at his side he fumbled with the middle rock until suddenly the ground beneath them gave way and they were all tumbling head over heel and into each other with such speed and ferocity that Anwar wondered if the fall would ever end or if they would end up falling to the very center of the earth. Then, much to his relief, he fell into a heap onto solid ground; only to be impacted by the others falling on top of him, he couldn’t help but wonder how he had ended up on the bottom of the pile. Then the weight on top of him was gone and he was able to get to his feet without much trouble. He was rather stunned by what he saw next.
The world was now a picture of dark blue with soft pulsing faint lights coming out of the stonewalls around them. Ice like fissures were suspended from the ceiling above them, water softly and melodiously dripping down the long spirals into small pools below. Faint music came from all around them, almost sounding like a symphony playing a very mystical tune. Anwar almost lost all concentration as the sounds poured over him and threatened to overtake his thoughts. Then as quickly as the sounds had enthralled him with their purity, his ears were overloaded with a cacophony of harsh tones. Anwar cried out and grabbed his ears, trying to shut the sounds out of his head. Then hands grabbed him, pulling his hands from his ears.
“Anwar, what the hell is wrong with you?” Kildone yelled at him, slapping him across the face to get his attention.
“Can’t you hear that?” Anwar asked between clenched teeth, still trying to keep the harsh music out of his head.
Everyone stared at him as though he was crazy, making Anwar realize he was the only on that heard it. It had to be something to do with having druidic powers, He reasoned with himself. Or Kildone would surely have noticed it. Something about what they had done had disturbed the harmony inside of the mountain. He couldn’t help but wonder if the mountain would turn against them in anger and destroy them if they didn’t leave soon.
“We need to get out of here. We’ve disturbed some ancient power, and it’s angry with us.”
“That’s ridiculous. One can’t disturb a mountain.” Kildone argued.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2007 3:32 pm
Chp. 1 cont.
“Oh believe me, you can. Its causing me a lot of pain right now. I think if we don’t vacate it very soon, it’ll unleash something ancient and terrible on us. Something that even you, with all your powers, would have no means of surviving.”
Kildone stared at him, paling at the thought. Then he walked around the cave, examining the walks closely. After he had examined the walls several times, he slumped with a heavy sigh and sat on the floor, his back to one of the walls.
“Give me a moment. I need to think about the last time I was here. Hopefully I will be able to figure out which wall has the secret door.” Kildone told them.
“How can you not remember?” thundered Kendrig.
“Its been several years since I’ve been this way. I just need to refresh my memory, so don’t worry. I’ll have us out of here in no time.” Kildone assured him.
Anwar’s head was beginning to ring from the harsh tones; so much that it was starting to drive him mad. Grumbling, and feeling very irritable he walked over to the wall opposite Kildone and the others and smashed his fist into it. His anger abated somewhat, he sighed staring at the wall and then frowned as he notice it start to crack from the force of his blow. Then much to his fascination, a thin line of light shone out from the crack illuminating the dull blue dusty stonewalls.
Kildone jumped to his feet and ran over to the wall. He examined the wall around the crack, then smiled and turned a stone in the wall, causing a doorway to appear in the wall.
“Well looks like Anwar helped you find the door.” Kendrig commented, starting to amble towards the doorway.
“Wait a moment,” Kildone warned.
He cautiously peered through the doorway at an angle to see what was on the other side. His head popped back so quickly that everyone feared bad news. “There are Grydors outside, guarding a small camp, but they’re sleeping. If we can go quietly and slowly, I’m sure that we can get past them.”
“What about an invisible spell? I could cast it over our cloaks so we’d appear invisible.” Anwar offered.
“That’s a good idea, but since there’s snow, our footprints would give us away.” Kildone replied.
“Grydrors aren’t that smart. All we have to do is to keep in the footprints they’ve already made in their camp. The only thing we’d have to worry about is them seeing our footprints past the camp, but by then if we run fast enough they won’t be able to catch us.”
“You’re right Anwar, that’s a good plan.” Kildone replied.
Anwar collected the cloaks and began his invisibility spell, chanting the words of enactment in a low voice. In several moments the spell was completed and he returned everyone’s cloaks. They wrapped the cloaks completely around themselves, only their feet sticking out. To their surprise, even though the cloak didn’t touch their feet, they went invisible as well. It was rather disconcerting to see everyone suddenly disappear from sight.
“Head towards the nearest cave it’s probably about thirty yards away from the end of the camp. We’ll meet there and then turn south towards Jerunel. Now go!” Kildone instructed.
Anwar moved as slowly and as quietly as possible. Every few feet he would either bump into the person in front of him or cause the person behind him collide with him. He was glad that whoever it was knew better than to voice any pains he might have caused them. He really didn’t want to be captured by Grydors.
It wasn’t if Grydors were nasty to their prisoners, it was more so that most Grydors tended to work for the Perova Skorlauth and that they were notorious for torturing their captives in very inventive and cruel ways. For as long as Anwar could remember, the Skorlauths had been naught more than legends in stories that his parents had told him. Now they were alive once more and a threat, not only to all mankind, elfin folk, and dwarf clans, but to him and his friends as well. The Skorlauths had reason to hate all other races, no doubt, but because they held resistance to fire and near every metal weapon imaginable, the other races held little, if any pity, for their kind.
He remembered that his parents had once told him that Skorlauth sorcerers were the greatest magic users in existence. Not to mention their sorceresses. The females tended to hold a greater affinity towards magic and olden abilities, like shape shifting, than any other race. He’d be happy if he never had to verify any of the old legends and stories.
Then his life as he knew it was altered for the worse. Somehow he had wandered out of the footprints in his relieving of the past, and had drawn the attention of one of the guards.
“You there, ssstop where you are!” A gravely deep voice told him, causing him to stop in his tracks.
Anwar swore softly under his breath at his stupidity and wondered if any of his party had noticed the predicament that he had put them all in.
“Who are you talking to Grusss?” Another voice asked.
“An invisible man, and there may be more of ‘em.”
A hand clamped down on Anwar’s shoulder, nearly crushing it. Anwar turned and glanced up to see and eight foot tall Skorlauth warrior glaring down at him with poison running out the sides of its mouth. A cruel glint came into the Skorlauth’s eyes as it laughed at the expression on his face. Anwar could only imagine the look of avid horror etched onto his face that caused the Skorlauth such amusement. He couldn’t help but wonder how the Skorlauth could see through the invisibility spell. The only explanation he could think of was that the Skorlauths must have evolved since the Auraedon wars.
“Borlak, Adru, grab the others,” The Skorlauth’s voice boomed from deep inside its massively scarred chest. “We’re going to have us a little fun with these ones.”
Then the Skorlauth reached down and plucked Anwar’s cloak from his shoulders, revealing his presence. He was rather ashamed to see that the others had been captured as well, but not as easily as he had been.
Calhoun was sporting more bruises on his face, as were the Elves and Mahira. Kendrig had been trussed up like a pig, to keep him from struggling with the Grydors who were pulling him through the snow by a lead rope. Kildone looked rather pissed, but he hadn’t yet tried to harm their captors with his magic.
That’s when Anwar decided not to give up without a fight. He unleashed a massive ball of mage fire and threw it into the face of the Skorlauth that was holding him. It exploded causing a flash of light so bright and penetrating that it nearly blinded him as well as the Skorlauths and Grydors.
The enemy party screamed grabbing their faces, letting go of their captives giving them a chance to run for freedom. Anwar went for Kendrig in an attempt to loosen the ropes around him, only to have Kendrig yell at him to leave. Anwar was torn. On one hand, he didn’t want to leave Kendrig to the mercy of the Skorlauths cruel torture, and the other he wanted to get away to freedom. Before Kendrig could yell at him to leave again, Anwar let loose a fireball that burned the ropes around the dwarf. And then the both of them were running to catch up with the others. Their freedom was short lived however, for as soon as they reached the perimeter of the camp they got hit with a spell so fierce that it drove all of them to their hands and knees in pain.
Anwar turned, to find the dark brooding eyes of a dark elf mage focusing on him. The mage grinned and then whispered to him, in a chilling dark tone.
“I’m Kelvanas, nice to finally meet you Anwar. It’s going to be a pleasure breaking you for my master, Slevarg. He’s told me all about you.”
Then before Anwar could loose a spell, he was hit by a spell that caused him the most excruciating pain he had ever felt in his life. The pain in his body faded as his senses finally just let go, slipping him into darkness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2007 4:51 pm
Ooh.
><
This looks interesting. But I have ADD now. The first paragraph is kinda repetative with the covered bit, adn that kind of thing --snow-covered, ice-covered--needs a hyphen. Okay.
Back later.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2007 7:53 am
This is interesting, but, no offense, it's a little too typical for me. I mean, the Dwarves and Elves and the old man... maybe it's too early for me to judge though. The beginning was quite descriptitive which I approve of.
Kirby is right about the overstating.
I'd also like to add that you should've just said forest covered in the dark mantle instead of forest and tundra. It sounds odd. I think the few first sentences definitely need a little jigging around, but, it's good!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2007 9:30 pm
Down the path, very shortly there will be nothing typical about this fantasy story. Though there are elves, humans, and dwarves, they've actually invaded this world for their own means. Now the inhabitants have to decide whether or not to side with them against a sorcerer that means to have supremacy over all of the land.
I'll make a new thread and explain all the other races, and such if you'd like.
Or I could just put them up here. There are the Skorlauth, Rihskule, Grydors, Ferrlits, and the Ma'kura. Not to mention sentient plant creatures that feed off of the magic of lower mages that wander into their enchanted wood, The D'ugaloth forest.
See..nothing typical about that.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2007 3:39 pm
Chapter 2
The dark elf stood over the halfling, surveying his handwork with a grin of satisfaction. Oh his work was going to be fun, he thought to himself. Having the opportunity to continue the cycle and break the son as he had the parents’ years before was a pleasant surprise. That was going to be something that he would intensely enjoy.
“What should we do with them Lord Jian?” A very charred Skorlauth asked him.
“Take them to the Keep, and put them in separate cells far from each other. I don’t want them getting any ideas of escape. Don’t forget to have the wards watching the two mages, I want them hopeless and resigned to their fates.” Kelvanas replied.
“Yes, Lord Jian. It will be done.”
“Oh, and Ryal,”
‘Yes My Lord?” The Skorlauth asked.
“Make sure the lad is prepped for my work. I’ll start on him first. And have one of the ward’s do something for your face, it looks horrible.” Kelvanas told him.
“As you wish Lord.” The Skorlauth replied.
The two Skorlauths and the Grydors unceremoniously gathered the slumped figures and hauled them off towards the keep. Kelvanas turned to follow them, preparing his news for his master, the greatly feared Varun Slevarg. He’d be very glad to hear this news. Though he would be perturbed by the fact that the group had been able to find his secret base.
‘How had they found it?’ Kelvanas wondered. They had practically come out of nowhere. And had the grydor not noticed the footprints in the snow, they would have gotten through the lookout camp undetected. Something was going to have to be done about that. He couldn’t have a repeat of what had occurred only a fortnight ago.
Somehow a giantess warrior had found their camp and with the use of an enchanted blade had destroyed over a dozen of his best Skorlauth warriors. It had only been when he had unleashed a particularly powerful spell that had nearly robbed him of his life; that she had gone down. He had been very disturbed later upon recovering, that her enchanted blade had disappeared the moment it had fallen from her grasp. He had a feeling that it was one of the ancient blades of power that had been forged by the elves to destroy the demonic forces of olden times. If it were so, the blade could have easily destroyed him as well as his master, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.
At the moment the giantess was being held in the lowest level of the keep, warded by two of the strongest mages in his master’s service. Without her sword though, she wasn’t much of a threat. However, he was pretty sure that if she wasn’t properly warded, there was no doubt that the enchanted blade would return to her.
“Lord Jian,” the petulant whining tone of mage Imadron pierced through his conscious mind, making him turn to look at the mage with a frown.
“Yes Imadron?” He asked impatiently feeling irritation come over him.
“The young mage’s powers are bound but the Journey Mage is too powerful to bind. I’ve placed him under the wards in the lower level; he shouldn’t be of much trouble there. Phadra and Lacellus are more than strong enough to keep both the giantess and him placated, Lord Jian.”
Kelvanas regarded the news from the ancient mage for moments. Yes, Phadra and Lacellus working together would be more than enough to keep the Journey Mage weak and cut off from his magic. But He wasn’t so sure of the ancient sorceries surrounding the enchanted blade. It was possible that with Phadra and Lacellus diverting their attention and magic to contain another, that there wouldn’t be enough focus on the giantess.
“I’m not so sure of your assessment, Imadron. I’d like you to assign Kelarn to the lower level as well. I’m concerned that with Phadra and Lacellus having to divert so much of the warding towards the Journey Mage that eh giantess will regain possession of the blade. We need to prevent that at all costs. We definitely don’t want another massacre of our forces to occur.” Kelvanas replied.
Imadron nodded and left to carry out his orders. Kelvanas rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply, as he continued down the marble hallway towards his chambers. Something was bothering him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He hoped he’d figure out what it was before it was too late.
The shadows at the end of the corridor shifted to allow him passage into the inner sanctum of his quarters. The dark elf paused momentarily to rid himself of the heavy overbearing robes, leaving his chest and arms completely exposed to the coldness of the room. He called up flames in the hearth and then turned to the large iron-wrought ten-foot tall mirror on the east wall and began his mantra.
After a few moments the mirror began to cloud over and then cleared to reveal the hawk-faced Sebetah glaring rather pensively back at him.
‘What now, Kelvanas? Slevarg is busy turning out more Rihskule.”
“Well then it will please him to hear my news. I’ve captured the Halfling son of Varigan Hedaras, along with a Journey Mage and several others our master can use for creating new Rihskule warriors.”
Sebetah’s eyes glittered at the news, a look of savage amusement playing in their depths.
“So you’ll finally get to finish the job you began so many years ago, how does that make you feel?”
Kelvanas ignored the jibe and relayed.
“You may also want to relay that the giantess we captured a fortnight ago, had in her possession one of the ancient blades of power that was forged by the elves. I fear it could be a potential hazard to our plans, should she manage to somehow escape.”
Sebetah’s eyes narrowed and his face grew sharp, showing off his dismay at the news.
‘Well, then you’ll just have to be extremely careful with her. I’ll relay the news to Slevarg at once. Stay ready, he will probably wish to speak with you once he learns of this.”
Kelvanas nodded and reclined on a nearby chair while he watched Sebetah disappear from view. He couldn’t help but wonder what Slevarg might need with more of the Rihskule, it wasn’t as if they could die or anything. Being creatures created by necromancy and ancient magic, no one had the ability to destroy them save their creator. And Slevarg wasn’t about to do that anytime soon, if ever.
Though, he realized, they could be to replace the Skorlauth warriors he had lost only a fortnight ago. It was true that the Perova Skorlauth were a lot more difficult to destroy than there brother tribes but it was possible to kill them. The Giantess had proved that point quite adequately. Kildone scowled at the thought.
He would have to break her, and soon. So far the torture sessions he had spent on her had had nary an affect. She was a tough one, and would probably take a lot of his time, time that he didn’t really have.
He was supposed to be keeping the supply trains from going into the city of Jerunel without the people knowing who was behind it. It was a hard job with his troops consisting of more Grydors than Skorlauths. Sure the higher class of Grydors did tend to be pretty good warriors when they chose to be, but there was no way one could compare a Grydor warrior with a Skorlauth warrior. The Perova tribe were born warriors, born and bred. Stronger, fiercer, and much more diligent and deadly at the job, not to mention much more focused. He’d have to get more of the Skorlauth warriors if he was going to succeed. Or perhaps a group of Rihskule Now that would work, though he’d have to gain complete control over them or they’d give away their presence to the people of Jerunel because of their mindlessness ways.
“Mage Jian,” came a raspy voice from the mirror.
Kelvanas immediately stood at attention and replied, “Master Slevarg.”
“I learned of your misfortune with the giantess. Is it true that she slew over a dozen Skorlauth warriors?”
‘Regrettably, my Lord; but without the enchanted blade, she is of no threat.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Whichever enchanted blade it is could irrevocably change our plans of domination.”
“That is what I feared. Phadra and Lacellus have been quite capable of warding her and keeping the blade from returning.”
“Excellent. So I hear you’ve managed to capture a Journey Mage. Can you tell who might have sent him to meddle in our affairs?”
‘Probably the druids, the mage school is still blind to what’s going on around them. And as far as I remember, a lot of mages will go into the service of the druids in hopes of learning the ancient arcane powers. At least, that’s what I did.”
At this Slevarg grinned and then rubbed his hands together.
“And then there’s the Hedaras boy to think of. Were they able to bind his magic?”
“Yes, and quite easily. At least so Imadron claimed, though something about it makes me uneasy, Lord Slevarg.”
“And so it should. He was born with the ancient arts of both the elves and the druids in his blood. He is of more danger to us than anyone else in Almorah. Make sure he is properly bound yourself and don’t torture him. It would only strengthen him against you. It would be better to use the others’ pain against him, it would destroy him from the inside out. Whatever you do, don’t resort to torture. It will only come back to hurt you in the end, I learned that the hard way with Varigan Hedaras the first time I encountered him. Now is there anything you need for your work?”
“Actually yes,’ Kelvanas paused to walk over to his des and retrieve the list Imadron had left for him. ‘We’ll need a dozen or so Skorlauth warriors to replace the ones we’ve lost; ten caskets of black powder; five cases of munitions; and a set of dragon wings. The supplies you’ve asked for are on their way, they should arrive within a fortnight.”
“I can send you ten Skorlauth warriors at this time and a team of Rihskule. The black powder and munitions will be sent over by Sebetah tomorrow morning. As for the dragon wings, those you may have to go without. I’ve been able to persuade the dragon council elders to aid us in the war. In no time at all, Almorah will be ours.” Varun Slevarg exclaimed with a cackle; which was followed shortly after by a series of harsh coughs that racked the thin frame of the sorcerer.
“Are you faring well, Master Slevarg?” Kelvanas inquired.
“As well as can be expected with all the necromancy I’ve been doing lately. It’s hard work on the body, Kelvanas. Hoarder than you’d know. One of these days I will have to teach you the mysteries of my work. Then we will be truly unstoppable.”
“Yes my Lord. That we would.” Kelvanas agreed, bowing in deference to his master.
-This is all I have of the second chapter so far. I have a long way to go with it. I really need to stop skipping ahead in my writing, it only makes it harder in the long run.-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 29, 2007 6:02 pm
That's pretty good. Nice story line. The begining was almost perfect but once you started to have them all together it kinda went all too fast. You had them exepting him and talking to him like they had known him for years not just met him. But I do like the story line. Just slow it down a bit. Show some of their emotions. What they're thinking. Just a little bit more. Keep working at it. It's worth it! mrgreen And if I have hurt your feelings by saying this I'm sorry. cry But if you want your story to be the best it can be I would heed my advice. mrgreen Best of luck!
Illueia heart
|
|
|
|
|
|
0-Daughter Of The Stars-0
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 11:18 am
Daught of the Stars, thanks for the comment. I know, it does move too fast.
I've actually been reworking this story and have pretty much started completely over with it.
I'll have to put up what I have so far.
I really appreciate you taking the time to comment on my work. I'm really glad you like the outline, so I'll let you know when I've added more.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 3:32 pm
*needs to come back and read this* ^^
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 31, 2008 5:53 pm
I think I'll leave up this old version, and then just post the new one later on. That way people can see how it's changed and how I changed the flow of the story.
The outlook and take on the new version is a bit different. It actually starts with the group plus a new character and then pans into Anwar who in the new version isn't a thief and actually has a better defined character.
So...I'll have to post it later.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2008 7:32 pm
Alamorah ch 1 Rewritten New Version
The port of Gernon was in an uproar; news had arrived from the druid order stationed on Remur Isle that there was a war coming. A war that could surpass the Auraedon wars in ferocity and destruction. This was why so many people, many of whom were families, were leaving the city. They had no desire to be around during the war that could surpass the magnitude of sorcery that had nearly destroyed Alamorah two decades before.
Amongst the fleeing families a small group of warriors struggled through the crowds until they got past the docks. The barren streets of Gernon held a sense of despair to the returning group. They had just arrived back from a very long drawn out war between the dwarf kingdom over seas and the giants of the east. Bone weary, they entered the first tavern they spied, well assured that there would be no trouble finding accommodations, with the massive departing crowds well behind them.
The owner of the tavern looked up from the cups he was wiping as they entered. He eyed them for a moment before he ventured.
“Lookin’ for a good drink, ladies and’ lords?”
“If you have any good mead in these parts, then yes. We’ll also take whatever rooms you have for the night.” A tall red haired man told him.
“Aye, we’ve got empty rooms aplenty. More than we know what to do with.” The owner mumbled back.
The red haired man pulled a pouch from the inside of his cloak and took out a few coins, and handed them to the owner. The man looked the coins over closely, weighed them in his hands for a moment than pocketed them.
“Sorry sir, I got ta be careful. Several o’ the departin’ draggle ripped me off with some false coins. Would ya like dinner as well?”
“Yes please, “A blonde haired pleasant looking woman agreed, slumping into one of the chairs and putting her feet up on the table.
The red haired man smiled in her direction then handed over two more coins to the owner. This time the man pocketed them, satisfied the other wasn’t going to try and cheat him.
‘There’ll be rabbit stew, fresh bread, an’ apple pie along in a bit. Here’s yore mead.” He announced, as he pulled out six mugs and filled them with a light gold colored liquid until they were brimful which he then passed over to his waiting customers.
They thanked him in subdued tones and settled around the table, which was already occupied by the young woman. They sat there in silence, slowly drinking the Meade, after a few moments of tidying up the bar, the owner left the room to get started on the dinner meal.
“Seems to me that Alamorah isn't in a very good state.” The silver haired elf commented.
“So we’ve noticed Isileon.” The dwarf snorted into his mug.
“Doesn’t the Nacceus order usually take care of such problems?” The reclining young woman asked.
“Yes, but apparently something must have happened to them if Alamorah is still threatened.” The red haired man replied.
“Why is it that war seems to follow us everywhere we go?” The dwarf grumbled darkly.
“Actually, the war was building up way before we left, if you remember correctly Kendrig.” Isileon replied.
“It was? How come I didn’t notice that?” the reclining woman asked.
“Maybe you were too busy learning the art of healing, Mahira. Most times when one is engulfed in a trade as much as you were at the time, one doesn’t notice what’s going on around them. Much less the rumors of dark sorcery in action.” Isileon replied.
“Well, once I get my dinner, I’m going to bed. It’s been too long since I’ve last slept in a real bed.” The other elf muttered.
“Is this the last we will see of each other?” The other female asked quietly.
At this everyone at the table cast looks at her and was surprised to see a very serious look on the half giantess’s face. Kendrig adverted his eyes, an uncomfortable look on his face. Mahira sat up in her chair and leaned over, placing her hand on the table near the giantess’s hand.
“Why would you think that D’vera? After all we’ve gone through together, you think we’d split up? We’re a group, and for me there’s nothing else.”
“Yes, but unlike the rest of you, I have a call on my life. If there’s an evil out there threatening the lives of Almorians then I’ve got to put a stop to it. My guess is that the rest of you don’t feel as passionately as I do. And because of that, I’ll be fighting on my own against the odds.” She replied.
“It’s not going to come down to that, Gudrun. We’ve stuck together this far, and we’ll keep doing so. However, we need to come up with a plan before we go gallivanting around the country.”
“What sort of plans do you suppose would help achieve the end of this war?’ Came a voice from a darkened corner of the tavern.
The unexpected interruption caused the others of the group to instinctively go for their weapons. D’vera just calmly sat there staring into the shadowed corner where the voice had come from.
“Have you heard enough druid?” She asked in a dry tone.
The druid moved out of the shadows to look her in the eyes as he replied.
“I’ve heard plenty for the moment, D’vera Gudrun.”
“I guess I need to learn to be more inconspicuous. So what is it that you want out of me this time?” She asked, tiredly massaging her forehead.
“Call me Pharon, and I doubt you could be inconspicuous even if you wanted to be. A half giantess with an enchanted blade strapped to her side, is pretty hard to overlook. And I don’t really want anything out of you. In fact, I’d like to help you, and inform you and your friends of any information that you have need of.”
The companions exchanged worried glances with each other, and then Isileon got to his feet and strode over to the kitchen and quietly conversed with the tavern owner for a few moments. When he was finished he came back and relayed, “The owner said he’d stay back there for an hour before he comes out, you’d best use the time wisely Pharon.”
The druid nodded and began to relay the recent happenings to the companions.
“Most of your may remember the dark sorcerer Braden and the atrocities he caused during the Auraedon wars, correct?”
Here the companions, save Mahira all nodded. The druid noticed her puzzled face and explained,
“Braden split Alamorah into four pieces, Kilgal, Remur Isle and Carthac were once part of Alamorah. Braden also twisted nature and wildlife, awakening the D’ugaloth Forest as well as the Werrins and the Nevahhrim.
Anyways his apprentice, Varun Slevarg has discovered an ancient magic that allows him to reanimate the dead and prolong his life past normal. Only he goes a little farther than that. He’s been collecting body parts and assembling them in grotesque living puzzles and reanimating them as well. He’s gone as far as warding them against any other magic and weaponry. If one of his creations is hacked to pieces they will reassemble on their own. At this point he has over 3o thousand of these creatures. He uses these troops to destroy towns, cities, even nations that won’t bend to his will.
Until a year ago, he concentrated most of his forces on the homeland of the humans and the elves, as well as other nations tat are foreign even to the druids. He’s completely destroyed and desecrated any people or nation that he’s come up against. Now is attention has been turned to Alamorah, and he intends to destroy it as well.
While we’ve been fortunate enough not to draw his attention fully on the Orraceus order, the Nacceus order has been nearly destroyed and scattered. As far as we know, there are only two survivors from the Nacceus order, and what they have been able to tell us wasn’t good. Slevarg has allied himself with the Perova tribe of the Skorlauth people, not to mention he’s begun to woe the dragons as well.
Alamorah doesn’t have much of a chance if its rulers aren’t united and working together to destroy Slevarg and discover a way to counter his magic’s.
What I propose that you and your companions do is take word to the respected rulers and get them to become a united front. But I understand if you feel that this task is something you’d rather not do.”
“And why couldn’t you do this on your own druid?” Kendrig asked with a loud sigh.
“I have to try and convince the Mage Council to forget their grudge against the druid orders and to find a way to counter Slevarg’s magic if they can. It will probably take a good four months to get through their thick skulls that it’s a life and death matter. Mages are way too stubborn and set in the old ways to be convinced easily.” Pharon replied dryly, running his fingers through his fine gray hair.
“Got premature graying hair? I’ve got several remedies for it if you’d like to get ride of it.” Mahira offered.
Pharon grimaced then said, “Actually I’m a lot older than I look. Druids tend to age slower than other people, but our hair always shows our true age.”
“Oh, I had no idea.” She replied looking quite surprised.
“Well,” Calhoun began after a moment of silence. “It sounds like something needs to be done and done soon. This is our home and if we want peace then we’ll have to fight for it.”
“The only problem I have with your plan Pharon, is that we’ve been gone for over three years and we don’t know enemy territory from friendly territory. How are we supposed to navigate Alamorah without being caught?” Kendrig demanded.
“I’ll give you directions to the nearest Ranger post. The Rangers have already been working against the Perova for some time now and will guide you and aid you in whatever way that they can. If I can get a volunteer from the Mage Council, I’ll send a mage to aid you as well. If I can’t then you’d better start praying, because there is no way once can survive without some sort of magic in the world Slevarg has created since you’ve been gone.”
“Well that’s not good to hear.” Isileon commented.
“So is that the main reason why all those families were loading on the ships, to get away from everything going on in Alamorah?” D’vera asked.
“Yes, most people are running scared, especially those with children. However, some people, those in the Haldir region are making an attempt to stand against the Rihskule and Perova. A lot of those people have lost their lives because of it and a lot more will unless I can manage to convince the Mage council to help. My hope is that somewhere in their massive library there are some texts on the olden magic that may show a way to break Slevarg’s spells and wards on the Rihskule creatures of his. If we can, it would give the rest of us a fighting chance of winning.” Pharon replied.
“Even with the Rihskule taken care of, how would we or any army be able to stand against all the Skorlauths', dragons, and Slevarg?” Kendrig demanded.
“Slevarg also has over 4 dozen mages and a very deadly dark elf sorcerer at his bidding. It would be very difficult to win the war, but it is a possibility, if the Mage council joins the cause. This falls on my shoulders to accomplish.”
“But what makes you think that we’d be able to convince kings and councils to unite against Slevarg’s army? We haven’t been trained for negotiations or anything close to it, like you have. Why would you place such a burden on us?” D’vera questioned.
“For several reasons, D’vera but mostly because of you; you were after all blessed by the gods with the power and authority to judge kings and rulers, so they’ll take notice of you. They’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Another reason is because, if you haven’t noticed, your group consists of the three races that have been renowned and known for not getting along. However you have somehow figured out how to do so, and that is going to make them want to listen to you. Whether you choose to believe it or not, the races do want peace with each other, they just haven’t discovered a way of enabling it yet. And thirdly, you have a prince, a reagent, a famous weapons master, as well as one of the last healers in your group.” Pharon concluded.
“We have a prince in our group? Who is it?” Mahira asked seeming a bit surprised.
“By Bala woman! Have you no eyes in your head?” Kendrig demanded. “Isileon’s worn that amulet everyday and you’ve never taken a close look at it?”
“Leave Mahira alone Kendrig, some people just don’t notice those things like you do. What I’d like to know is who the Reagent is.” D’vera said.
“That would be your observant dwarf friend?” Pharon replied with a smile.
Kendrig muttered something under his breath shooting a very dark look at the druid. The druid laughed, saying. “Be glad I’m the only one that understood your Kendrig. The others would probably not care for you the same if they had.”
Kendrig just glared at him.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence the thud of a platter brought everyone to reaching for their weapons abruptly. The Inn’s owner backed up, his eyes widening with alarm.
“Sheesh, I thought y’all would be hungry, it’s been past an hour now. I waited until you were all done talking before I came out here.” He said; warding himself with his arms outstretched in a defensive maneuver.
“Oh, sorry about that, we just came back from a war and it’s hard to get rid of such habits.” Calhoun apologized.
“I wouldn’t get out of habit if I were you. There will be a war in Alamorah before too long, so fit you’re set for battler you’re in the right place.” The inn keeper replied ruefully as he slowly left the room.
“Well,’ Arun began. “I think we should eat before this food gets cold and then go to bed. We’ll have to get up early if we’re going to get to this Ranger outpost on time. Time is of importance with the task set before us.”
The others seemed a bit bemused by Arun’s total turn around and exchanged looks with each other before they nodded with agreement.
“Well Pharon, give us the directions while we eat. If you’d care to join our meal go right ahead, it looks like there’s enough food to feed a small army.” Calhoun offered.
Pharon’s face had a great look of relief on it as he agreed and began to describe the route they would need to follow the next morning.
* * * * * *
The group awoke before the sun the next morning, gathered their belongings and headed downstairs. They were surprised to find the Inn keeper waiting for them with several bags at the ready.
“I thought you might need some supplies for your trip, it’s not much, but it’s what I could do.” He said offering the bags to Calhoun and the group.
“That’s mighty kind of you, how much do I owe you sir?” Calhoun asked
“All that I ask is that you stay alive long enough to finish the druid’s task. If you don’t, Gernon will fall just like Caras did. I really don’t want to see a repeat of that happen.”
“So you overheard what the druid said to us?” Arun asked in a cold tone.
“No, I didn’t need to. The druids don’t speak to people for fun, everyone knows that. If a druid takes the time to wait and speak to certain people, it’s for a good reason, though usually those reasons tend to make those people have shorter lives.” The inn keeper replied.
“So it does. Than you sir, it’s very much appreciated. We’ll do what we can.” Calhoun replied.
Without another word the group gathered up the supplies, divided it up between their packs and then left the inn. They walked down the middle of the dirt road through the town. The autumn wind swirled around them stirring up the gold and red leaves collecting in the ditches on the side of the road. Leaves crunched beneath their feet as they exited the town and entered the wide wilderness.
“Now to the South west, it’ll take about six hours to get to this Ranger settlement.” Calhoun announced.
“We could still change our minds about this, couldn’t we?” Kendrig asked with a groan.
“We already promised Kendrig, we’re not going back on our word, so stop grumbling and start walking!” D’vera ordered.
With one last groan Kendrig adjusted his two headed axe, hefted his bag up higher and stared walking, quickly taking the lead of the group. The others exchanged bemused looks with each other and followed wisely keeping their comments to themselves.
The terrain changed once the sun was over them, it became steep and rocky and very hard to get footholds in. Kendrig paused, stopping to glance back at the test of the group. Only the elves were able to maintain any sort of footing, but they were forced to aid D’vera and Mahira to keep them from falling on their faces. Calhoun seemed to be faring slightly better than the woman were, but was still having a difficult time of it.
He raised a hand to signal that they were stopping then loosened his pack and lowered it to the ground. He kept standing taking slow deep breathes to adjust to the atmosphere, before he spoke.
“It’ll keep getting harder until we reach the forest Pharon told us about. We might as well take a short break before we start up again, as well as some well needed food.”
“Sounds good to me, Kendrig.” D’vera groaned as she squatted, trying to rest without sitting down.
“It might be better if you actually sit down Gudrun.” Arun said eyeing her.
“If I do that you won’t be able to get me back up again. I think I know my body better than you do, Arun.” She replied.
“Well I for one….”Mahira began.
“Quiet!” Isileon suddenly exclaimed, a frown appearing on his face, trying to concentrate on something in the distance. His eyes widened, shock and anger showing clearly on his features from something he had apparently seen or heard.
Isileon’s hearing and sight were heightened beyond a normal elf’s senses, making him quite the phenomenon to his kind. They’d gone as far as proclaiming him the most evolved elf in the entire elf nation and civilizations in the world.
“What is it Isileon?” Calhoun asked his face marred with worry.
“I believe the place we’re headed is under attack right at this moment. By the tie we get there, everyone will have been murdered.” He finally answered; his voice barely manageable, the anger was so overwhelmingly in his tone.
“Not if I can help it!” D’vera swore, abruptly standing up her eyes aflame with righteous indignation. The next moment the enchanted blade was in her hand and she was off and running with the anger of the gods fueling her body and propelling her with amazing speed and ferocity.
“I almost wish I could run that fast.” Kendrig sighed as the others took off after her.
He grabbed his pack up, pulled it back on and began to run at a moderate pace after the others. At this rate, he thought to himself, I’ll never catch them!
When Kendrig finally did made it to the battlefield that had once been the ranger settlement he was enraged to see that the battle was nearly over. Mahira was busy checking over the fallen rangers with Arun by her side to ward off any attacks from fallen enemies. Calhoun was standing to one side, his sword dripping green blood with a few fresh wounds on his face watching D’vera hack an eight foot tall Skorlauth warrior into pieces. Isileon was standing warily to one side, his bow in his left hand and fingering his amulet with his right hand.
Kendrig sighed and latched his axe back into place making his way over to Calhoun. Before he even got half way a hand reached out and grabbed at him causing him to instinctively reach for the dagger at his belt. He stopped when he saw it was a young boy in ranger garb gripping his tunic.
“Mahira! Over here, there’s one still alive!” He cried out, bending down to the boy to look over his wounds.
“W-who are you? Why are you here?” The boy slurred his eyes bright and his grasp loosening.
“We’re looking for someone called Anwar. Hang on boy; we’ve got a healer who can help you.” Kendrig said trying to reassure him.
By this time Calhoun, Isileon, Arun and Mahira were next to Kendrig and were hovering over them anxiously.
“A-anwar’s not here,” the boy paused as a strong shuddered went through his whole body, his grasp slackening even more. “H-he’s out t-taking his final t-test to become a r-ranger.”
“Do you know where he might have gone for that, boy?” Kendrig asked anxiously.
“N-nordlaen F-f-forest….thirty…m-miles….due south….tell him Zecry…his brother died…a…hero. He’ll want to know.” With this final statement the boy’s body went slack and he fell completely still.
Mahira leaned over the boy and checked the veins of his neck.
“He’s dead, and he couldn’t have been a day over twelve!” With that she fell back crying at the injustice of it all.
D’vera joined the others, glancing down at the body with a sad look in her eyes.
“We should get moving; it wouldn’t be smart to hang around any longer than we need to. Is he the ranger that we were sent to find?”
“No, he was someone else, who told us that the ranger we’re looking for is in the forest due south of here. We’re going to head out and find him, before any other raiding parties show up.” Calhoun replied.
“Wait, what about the bodies? Aren’t we going to bury them before we leave?” Mahira asked, looking bewildered and horrified at the thought of leaving the bodies laying out for the scavengers to ravage.
“We really don’t have time…we should move on now. It wouldn’t be wise to get caught out in the open here without some sort refuge against another attack.” Isileon said, helping her to her feet.
“I don’t know. I think it would be wiser to gather the bodies and let me cremate them with the enchanted blade. It will make short work of them and it wouldn’t take very long….since there really aren’t many of them.” D’vera countered. “It would be the respectful thing to do.”
Calhoun shot a glance at the rangers’ bodies scattered on the ground; closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. It was almost like losing his family all over again. He sighed, and started over to the nearest body.
“We’ll pile the bodies over in the grove, near the commune building.”
“Why there?” Kendrig huffed, as he picked the boy’s body up and slung it over his shoulder.
“Because that’s were they would want it done, since it’s the center of their dwelling. It’s where the rangers do all their meditation.” Calhoun replied.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2008 7:39 pm
Alamorah ch 2 Rewritten New Version
Anwar walked into the small clearing in the middle of the Nordlaen Forest, kneeled, closed his eyes and let go of all his negative thoughts; letting the purity of the nature around him to pervade his senses. A sense of wrongness crept into his thoughts breaking his concentration. He opened his eyes slowly and shot a glance around. Then he got to his feet, grabbed his staff from where it had been resting against an old gnarled tree and began to walk back the way he had come. The sense kept getting stronger with each step. Yet…it wasn’t only a sense of wrongness, it was almost…a realization of some horrible act done against his brothers and teachers. As though with one fell strike; the other rangers had all been struck down.
Then he found himself pausing as a thought flitted through his mind.
What if it wasn’t a feeling? What if something tragic had happened? What could he do? He’d be the last ranger left alive. Not exactly, He had yet to complete his final task to becoming a full fledge ranger. If he didn’t continue what he had started, the order of the Rangers had already died out.
With great will power, Anwar resigned himself to go back to the clearing and finish the bond with the Nordlaen Forest. He once more placed his staff to rest against the old gnarled tree and stepped into the clearing, kneeling and forging the bond once more, to become completely in tuned with the forest’s spirit.
Not many rangers had actually ever been able to complete the last task, but for Anwar it was an accomplishment that meant the most to him. Only the best rangers had forged connections with the forests and land they guided people through, it gave them an almost uncanny ability to be able to elude enemies by knowing everyone or anything that went on in the area through the bond that they shared with the land. Most times such bonds took a decade or longer to establish but Anwar had more of an affinity towards the ancient magic and had traveled more extensively as a young apprentice than any other ranger, so he had completed all the other bonds, save this one with the Nordlaen Forest.
The old magic that was involved with such bonds was imperceptible to mages, sorcerers, anyone with magical abilities. It was an ancient magic belonging more to Alamorah then to the rangers who had discovered it. If the ranger who attempted to create a bond had a bad heart or intention they would either be killed or scarred horribly when Alamorah rejected the bond. This was why the practice had all but disappeared when Anwar had first joined. His master, one of the greatest rangers of the time had recognized Anwar to be more of the older ways. He had told him about the bonding and had taught him how to do it the first time. Since then he had bonded with every spirit of Alamorah and forest spirit.
The spirit of Nordlaen studied him, flowing around him and getting a feel for him, and considering him for quite some time. Anwar opened his soul and heart, bearing them to the forest’s spirit. He felt a sharp twinge as the spirit delved deeply inside of him and then the pain subsided.
Suddenly his head was filled with an image of warriors entering the forest on the north side. There were two tall regal looking elves; one fair haired and one pale skinned and the other with brown hair and dark green eyes and golden brown skin. The fair haired one was slightly taller than the darker elf and had eerie looking bright blue eyes almost the same exact shade of the ocean. And yet, while they both looked regal, it was the taller, fairer one that carried himself in a regal manner. The other elf moved much differently…almost as if he had been raised among a completely different race. It made Anwar wonder if he had.
Besides the elves there was a burly muscular dwarf carrying a huge double headed axe slung over one shoulder, with long dark brown hair which intermingled with his overly long beard. Anwar shuddered at the fury hidden behind the dwarf’s cobalt eyes, and the rage that lay hidden in his tensed and coiled muscles.
Following the dwarf was a young woman, of average height with a very slim almost waif like body hidden beneath a deerskin dress, and a very large pack on her back. She must be the healer of the group. Her curly blond tresses tumbled over her forehead and down her back…some was loosely bound in a wrap but it slowly working itself free. Her hazel eyes looked troubled and almost forlorn…as though she had seen something that she was trying to forget. She stumbled over a fallen branch and was caught by the man walking behind her. She glanced up and smiled at the man and spoke, most likely a thanks’ for his aid.
The man nodded and pointed to her escaping hair, then paused to let her fix it.
He was only a few inches shorter than the elves, which was rather impressive. It made him look very imposing. He looked to be of a very lean build, but Anwar could tell that with his height the man must weight well over 250 pounds. He was a powerhouse of a man, and wore several different weapons strapped to his back, indicating he was very knowledgably about them. His gray-green eyes held a look of sadness and remorse though Anwar somehow knew that they were usually a very reserved and calm window, revealing nothing of what went on inside the man. His red brown hair was worn shoulder length and his beard was a bit ragged, as though he hadn’t had the time to think about shearing it.
The last person of the party came into sight and made Anwar gasp in astonishment. The eight foot tall woman was a sight to behold. Her dark blue eyes emitted fury so dark and so full of rage that Anwar almost wanted to break off the vision so he wouldn’t have to see them. It was as though her eyes were not her own, but mirrors of the gods’ fury and wrath. Her dark brown hair was worn in a braid down her back. She wore a shirt of chain mail and armor unlike any of the others, as well as two swords strapped to her back. One of them gleamed unnaturally…almost with a magical sheen. She had to be the half giantess who had been gifted with the enchanted blade of the gods to act as the judge of all mankind.
And just as suddenly as the vision had come it left, leaving Anwar to wonder what he should do about the warriors coming for him. First he thanked the forest for the vision then grabbed his staff and started through the forest, towards the direction the group was coming from. He decided they either had need of him or had bad news to tell him. He hoped it was the latter, but knew he was most likely wrong.
* * * * *
They had been half running for most of their trip through the forest, but after awhile they had grown tired of it and had settled on a steady pace wanting to reach the wherever the ranger was before nightfall.
After an hour or more the sight of a young man scrambling down a tree caused them to stop. The young man couldn’t have been a year over 18, and he was rather short, around 5’11 with short dark brown hair, curling up at the ends above the neck of his tunic. His clothes were rather old and ragged, almost unremarkable to look at. He was though, very well toned, yet slender and youthful looking in the face. His ears were unmistakably that of a half breed.
“Are you Anwar?” Kendrig barked.
The young man glanced at him, his hazel eyes sweeping over the group as though they were nothing new to him.
“That would be me. What news do you bring me?” He asked, his voice a bit rough, as though he already knew what had happened to the other rangers.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news Anwar, but your brothers and teachers were slain by a raiding party of Skorlauth and grydors.” Calhoun told him, keeping his tone sympathetic.
Anwar regarded him closely for a moment, a strange light in his eyes.
The elves and the dwarf looked a bit taken back by his gaze and how closely he was scrutinizing their leader.
“So, you were a ranger once, weren’t you weapons master?” Anwar more so stated than asked.
“Yes, but how did you know that?” Calhoun asked, his hackles rising.
“As much as I would like to hear how the boy knows that, we really need to get going. Night’s about to fall and we really need to find some sort of shelter to stay for the night.” D’vera cut in.
“There’s a village only an hour away from here, if we hurry we can get there before it gets dark.” Anwar volunteered.
“There is? I don’t remember one this close to the ranger station.” Calhoun remarked a bit surprised.
“Apparently it’s been awhile since you’ve been back to Alamorah. There have been a lot of changes…most of them for the worst. But we’ll speak of them later right now we should get a head start to Cazeahr.”
“Well then while we walk, we’ll introduce ourselves and make our case plain to you.” D’vera replied.
Calhoun stood completely still, stiff with shock apparent on his face. Isileon and Arun also stood still, grief etched on their features. Mahira stared at them, almost surprised to see any sort of emotion on their faces.
“Is something wrong men?” D’vera asked with a frown when she saw they weren’t moving.
“I think, they’ve just had a shock, woman.” Kendrig muttered darkly, than explained. ‘Villages tend to be named after dead kings…and well; Cazeahr was the elfin king. He also happens to be Isileon’s sire, as well as Calhoun’s old master. Arun, well he is distantly related to the king, and to Isileon so he’s probably taking it as a shock as well.”
“Tell me, how did my father die?” Isileon asked, his voice dark and heavy with anger and grief.
“He died on the battlefield, against Slevarg and part of the horde. He and his men didn’t really have much of a chance…that was when Slevarg revealed the Rihskule. They’re the living dead, and can’t be killed by any sort of means. If you want to know more, we can discuss this as we walk.” Anwar replied.
“Lead on Ranger.” Calhoun managed to say through a tone that was unmistakably full of anger and rage.
Anwar nodded and then lead them back down the way the group had come coming to a stop about half way through a glade and then eh turned towards the west. The sun was halfway in the sky right in their line of vision, making it hard for them to see unless they shielded their eyes with their hands. As they walked, they stirred up the long grasses causing the little insects to scurry out of their way to escape being trampled on.
“Perhaps you could tell me who you all are.” Anwar spoke finally.
“Oh right. We did forget to do that. I’m Calhoun Gregarian, that’s Isileon and Arun, and Kendrig. Mahira is our healer, and D’vera Gudrun is the resident judge and jury.” The weapons master told him, pointing each of the people out as he said their names.
“Well, it’s nice to meet all of you. Now what exactly do you want with me?” Anwar asked, stopping suddenly causing everyone behind him to come up short and almost stumble.
Calhoun turned to look at him and found himself staring into the strangest eyes he had ever seen. Sure, Anwar’s eyes were the same color as they had been before but this time it was as though a foreign entity was staring out through his eyes, as though he were possessed by a spirit of some sort. Calhoun backed up and hissed a command to D’vera in the Haldirian tongue.
She immediately lifted her blade from it’s scabbard and held it, letting it’s discerning powers work to show what was wrong with the ranger. Surprisingly though, nothing was revealed save the visage of a very old looking man. D’vera stepped back and gaped when she realized who the visage was of.
“By the gods, you’re…”
“Say nothing of what you have seen. Your companions have no need to know.” The spirit told her sharply cutting off her words.
D’vera gulped, still wide eyed at the sight of the spirit. Then she nodded, closed her eyes and took several deep breathes to steady herself. She sheathed her sword and said in a low tone.
“The spirit that possess’ him is not of evil intent, and does not want you to know what spirit it is. I pray you be content with that.”
Calhoun and the others eyed her closely, wondering what had caused her to falter and go so pale. They nodded finally and left it at that. Anwar stared curiously at D’vera, his eyes half on her and the blade.
“So the blade actually let you see him? That’s a first. You are going to tell me what you want from me, aren’t you?” He said, turning to Calhoun once more.
“We need you as a guide through Alamorah. We have been gone too long to know what areas are in the enemy’s hands and what areas are uninhabitable and dangerous. The druid Pharon told us to ask for you when we got the ranger station.” Isileon voiced.
Anwar laughed ruefully and shook his head.
“You should have just said so in the first place. I’d be glad to be your guide, now why don’t we get moving? Cazeahr is still miles away.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
