The Vordalyn 1

by Michael T Payne

  “Tell me Ohmbryn, what is this you are saying to me? And be ever so clear.” She whispered stroking his cheek down to his chin.

  “There have been reports that the fortification is inhabited once again, and an army stands there at the ready.” Ohmbryn winced as he spoke.

  “There, there, sweet Ohmbryn, come, walk with me,” She grabbed his arm and walked, pulling him from the wall to escort her down the hall, “Tell me more, Ohmbryn.”

  “It seems the armies of several of the princes are splintered, most have abandoned their post and now occupy Lord Dracon’s region,” Ohmbryn explained as Queen Menina listened quietly, “Furthermore, it seems all the refugees, exiled from Urixis, also reside there. Protected by this army.”

  “Is he back, Ohmbryn?” Queen Menina asked, stopping, then looking up at him.

  “We haven’t been able to determine that yet, my queen,” Ohmbryn answered unsure of how she was about to respond, expecting the worst. She thought for several moments, no longer looking at Ohmbryn, but still holding his arm, considering the information.

  “A home for the refugees,” She said to herself, “My dear brother, are you home? Of course not. If Dracon was back, he would have come here first. No, I believe this is simply an empty home filled with people needing one. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my brothers were behind it,” she let go of Ohmbryn, walking away from him. “I want eyes and ears there, but do not trespass, I don’t want to provoke them yet. Keep me informed, Ohmbryn.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The roots encasing Dracon were strong, keeping him from moving. They moved through dirt and rock, finally being partially deposited into a cavern. They hung by the roots that had loosened, no longer completely encasing man or horse. He could feel his horse beneath him struggling for freedom. The weight of Dracon’s horse broke the roots holding it, dropping it to fall to the cavern floor. Dracon however, was still trapped by roots clinging to his upper body, intertwined within the holes and gaps in his armor. It left his legs to dangle from the cavern roof. He could hear the horses despair, as it struggled to stand. Dracon knew by the sounds it made, the fall had mortally wounded his horse. The roots were wrapped tightly around Dracon’s plate armor, his only way to freedom would be by freeing himself from his armor and the roots that clung to it. It took hours for Dracon to manage himself free enough to start considering the fall that awaited him, with his next inch of freedom. He could see nothing, and his horse had stopped struggling, long before Dracon was able to free himself. Dracon forced loose of the last bit of armor and roots that held him to the cavern roof, then fell, some twenty feet landing on his back. He landed on the pointed tip of a jutting rock from the cavern floor. It knocked the air from his lungs, as he toppled from it, to his final resting place in a heap. Other than being winded from the blow that stole his breath, Dracon was relatively unharmed. After he caught his breath, he began feeling his way around, trying to find his horse, more importantly his saddle bags. He needed to see, the flint and steel in his saddle bags would help him make a fire. He was disoriented from the fall and had a difficult time locating his dead horse. A quick assessment of the horse told him he was much luckier than his trusted mount in the fall. He thanked Venalina for her gift, if not for his puncture proof skin, he would be no better than his dead steed. It took some time to finally create a fire, with scraps and strips of leather. The cavern was much smaller than it sounded, the light enabled him to see more than he wanted too. It was a veritable graveyard, filled with bones of both man and beast. Whatever ate the flesh from the bones around him, was nowhere to be seen. He found a tunnel out of the bone depository, it was small, making him crawl on his belly with the fire ahead of him. Shortly after entering the small tunnel Dracon could hear a crashing into the cavern behind him as something burrowed through the walls and began crunching on the remains of the horse. The sickening sounds of the feast behind him spurred him on quickly, trying to make as much distance between himself and whatever it was that ate his horse. Dracon crawled as fast as the limited space would allow, hindered by juggling fire and saddlebags, making his way was slow going. The small crawl space gradually opened, giving enough space for him to at first, crawl on his hands and knees, then eventually, enough for a crouched walk. Dracon took a moment to consider what kind of beast ate his horse, and yet could wield magic, creating a trap that sucked him through that stone patch, then return the ground to stone once again. Unless the beast was part of the trap? He had no sword, he had no armor, he only had his two hands. It reminded him of his brother Charnio, his hand to hand combat. How many hours the two of them would go at it, trying to best each other. It brought him a smile in the dark, and reminded him he was not completely unarmed. The tunnel seemed to be going down, and unfortunately there were no other ways to proceed. He could hear noises here and there around him, little clicks, scurries of little feet. There were creatures in the dark, invisible to him, even when lit up by his makeshift torch. Dracon fell several times on loose rocks, sliding further down into the tunnel. It leveled off and stopped descending, making it easier to navigate. Dracon could hear faint sounds clicking against the rock. He moved cautiously toward it, rounding the edges of the rock tunnel slowly, torch first. He heard a hissing as he stuck the torch by an opening in the rock. He backed away, looking around for an alternate path, but could see none. In the tunnel that hid the hissing creature, he could hear clicking, that grew louder. He backed up to the tunnel, from where he had come, trying to find something to hide behind. The clicking became furious in speed, and the hissing joined it, he knew at any second something would be close enough to him for a confrontation. Dracon could not see very far, but could hear that the creature had exited the tunnel, and shared the same space with him, coming closer. It moved quickly, coming into the light of his torch. It was not one, but two creatures. One travelling upside down on the roof of the cavern, while the other was level with Dracon. They were giant spiders, with the torso of some type of humanoid, where the head of the spider should be. It was horrific. Dracon backed away, tripping to the ground in his startled response to the two terrifying creatures coming after him. As soon as Dracon’s backside hit the cavern floor, the creature above him leapt from the roof of the cavern, down atop him, stabbing at him with its deadly claw tipped legs. The other creature flanked him and began shooting arrows at Dracon. This surprised Dracon, they were sentient beasts, able to wield weapons. It was beyond his comprehension, he was unable to scramble, so boggled by what was happening. The spiderlike creature stabbed him in his throat repeatedly, with terrifying speed, shoving Dracon down, pinning him beneath it, against the rocky floor. The arrows the other creature shot, hit Dracon in the ribs, one after another. The creature above him, let out a cry of victory, having hit Dracon full force and not missing. Little did it know that Dracon was unharmed by either its talon tipped legs, or the arrows of its companion. When Dracon collected himself, he rolled away, grabbing his torch, then crawled between the creature’s legs until he was no longer under it. The other creature saw Dracon escape from under its companion and hissed at him, getting its companions attention. They both looked at Dracon in disbelief. Again, Dracon was taken aback by the intelligence of these spider hybrid creatures. They moved toward him and Dracon ran along the cave wall, towards the tunnel the two creatures had emerged from. It may be the way out. The creatures gave chase and were quick, one moving to the roof above him once again, while the other gave chase, hot on his heels. Arrows flew at him from behind, clanging off the cavern wall. Dracon could tell the arrows were tipped with metal arrowheads, by the sound they made when they hit the wall. He saw an errant arrow on the ground ahead of him, that had missed its mark and dove, snatching it up, then rolling to his feet to continue his run. A weapon at last. He turned into the tunnel, forcing the creature travelling on the roof to drop down to continue after him. Dracon stopped, turned back, and with all his might, shoved the arrow up into the crouching creature, as it entered the tunnel. He caug
ht it in its humanoid throat, killing it, dead in a heap at his feet. Dracon stepped back, watching the creature, lay twitching. Dracon’s torch was on the ground and was partially covered by the hybrid spider. He could not see behind the fallen thing, to the mouth of the tunnel, where he knew its companion was waiting. It cried out in anguish and anger, then made a long, low, guttural sound, almost as if it were about to speak. Dracon stood at the ready, listening for the creature to make its move. He heard the clicking of its talon tipped legs on stone, going away from Dracon. He assumed it was going for reinforcements, but hoped it had enough and was fleeing. Dracon retrieved his torch and held it above the creature, examining it briefly before turning into the tunnel to seek out an exit. As he turned he was startled to see a figure just out of reach of his torchlight.

  “That was impressive.” It spoke. Dracon said nothing, raising his torch higher trying to light up whoever it was that spoke, so he could take full measure of what new horror he was about to do battle with. “Was that a stone skin spell?” It asked. He was suddenly aware there were others around him in the dark, just out of the light. Dracon again said nothing. “What are you doing here?” It stepped into the light. It was a woman with white hair and black skin. She resembled the humanoid part of those spiderlike creatures.

  “What are you?” Dracon asked stepping closer, causing the others in the darkness to shift positions, “What was that thing?”

  “I am Shynda Zolarn, and those are called, Driders,” She walked closer to Dracon, she had a scimitar in her hand. It was an exquisite weapon, ornate, with strange writing all over the blade, “Half spider, half Drow.”

  “Is that what you are? A Drow?” Dracon asked trying to see the others in the darkness around them, to assess how many people he was going to have to face.

  “Yes,” Shynda said walking closer, “You’re naked, unarmed, and I bet lost? In the Underdark?”

  “This place, you call it the Underdark?” Dracon asked waving the torch around, still trying to see the others around him.

  “Yes, what do your people call you?” Shynda asked.

  “Dracon.” He said.

  “That is a strong name, Dracon.” Shynda smiled with the whitest of teeth, set against her black skin, “So why are you here, and why shouldn’t I kill you?”

  “I’m not sure why I am here, but as to why you shouldn’t kill me, I say…give it your best shot.” He poised himself ready to fight again. Shynda laughed a wicked laugh.

  “That is very bold indeed. If I had to guess, I would say that your stone skin spell has probably waned by now?” She raised her sword pointing it at him. Dracon stood up tall and straight, ready for anything. “You are a bold one.” She sheathed her sword, “Did you fall through the earth, Dracon?”

  “I did.” He said still wary of her, and the others in the darkness, unseen.

  “I’m sure, a skillful, bold man, such as yourself, has already surmised it was a trap. First, to incapacitate, then to suffocate you. The Driders, they are opportunist and pillage that trap, they would have taken all that came with you from above.” Shynda sat on a rock, “Did the worm not care for the flesh of Dracon, or is it too, dead?”

  “It lives, still,” Dracon said, “Was this your trap? Or theirs?” Dracon pointed at the dead Drider.

  “It was not of our doing, it was left over from their war. After years of suffocating bodies, the worm started feeding on those deposited there, and like the Driders, it became a way of life for it. A constant source of foods. When it finishes its meal, it moves off. Then the Driders come, take what’s uneaten. Your belongings.” Shynda nodded up to the world above them, “As I said, they are opportunists. They just capitalize on its purpose, like the worm. There are hundreds of such traps.”

  “What war would this be?” Dracon asked.

  “The human war against the Vordalyn.” She looked at him like he should know, “Are you not of the Ffrei, Dracon?”

  “I am not of this land, I come from a distant land, far from here.” Dracon answered.

  “Hmm,” Shynda cocked her head looking at him, “The Ffrei waged war on the Vordalyn, using their own magic against them. Eventually, a Vordalyn queen froze the sun in the sky, to stop the Ffrei from sneaking into their cities and killing them in their sleep. Or so it is said.”

  “Ok,” Dracon didn’t know where to start, he had a million questions, “Who are the Vordalyn, and how did they freeze the sun in the sky,” Shynda shook her head.

  “I don’t live up there,” She pointed up, “I’m not interested in explaining the world above to you. It’s your world not mine.”

  “Ok then, are we going to do this, or will you be so kind as to show me the way out?” he asked wanting to hurry things along.

  “You are a very large man,” Shynda said then bit her finger, eyeballing him, “I dare say we may have nothing for you to wear, Dracon.”

  “You would clothe me? Shyn…” Dracon tried to say her name.

  “Shynda,” She finished for him, “You survived the worm, you killed one Drider, I was here to kill them all and clear the trap. You have done some of my work for me.” She stood from the rock walking toward him, “Kill the Drider that fled, then the worm. I will clothe you and show you the way up. What say you to that bargain?”

  “I say, give me a blade and get out of my way.” Dracon smiled.

  “No,” Shynda laughed, “No blade, as you are, as you were with the other, your cunning alone, against them.” Shynda smiled at him. Dracon accepted her challenge. He turned around, unarmed, then walked out of the tunnel, back to where he had come, to hunt the worm and the Drider that fled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Venalina could not be consoled and sat upon the same patch of earth that swallowed Dracon. Thikuf and the others returned having found no cave, or way underground. They rounded up the horses, and began to discuss what was next. Satana decided they needed to widen their search and would have to do so on horseback. They planned a search pattern they were going to follow.

  “We are going to have to set camp, it will be dark soon.” Thikuf said to Satana and Velen.

  “I’m not stopping!” Velen said angrily.

  “We are not going to be able to see in the dark, my friend. We will have to make camp or risk losing more than just Lord Dracon.” Thikuf said trying to reason with Velen, who looked at Satana for orders, not wanting to hear Thikuf.

  “He’s right, let’s get the horses watered and we’ll pick it up in the morning,” She said to Velen, putting her hand on his shoulder, “See to it. Thikuf, any water nearby?”

  He started nodding as she asked, “Yes, there is a river that parallels our road to the Priests of O’on. I’ll lead the way, and her?” Thikuf nodded over to Venalina on the patch that had swallowed Dracon.

  “What about her?” Satana asked with a glare.

  “We need to get her off that patch before it resets and activates again,” Satana still eyed him suspiciously, “I know we have history, but I am as fond of her as you are. I do have some insight into her mind.” Thikuf said. Satana nodded, “She will become unstable, and crazed to find him, it may lead to him, her connection. In the event it does not, and the worst happens, she will die if he dies.”

  “I know.” Satana said looking down.

  “It is their way, when their mate dies, so do they, shortly after. The connection is that strong. We need to watch her, she will know if he is no longer living.” Thikuf said.

  “I’ll get her,” Satana said in a long sigh then walked slowly to Venalina, examining the patch before she stepped on it, “You know, if it comes back, we’ll lose you too?” Satana crouched next to her.

  “I don’t care, I will join him, let it come for me.” Venalina said not moving.

  Satana braved the patch and joined Venalina on it, crouching next to her, “That was some display you put on.”

  “If only I was stronger!” She cried out face down on the rock patch.

  “How silly you look, V
enalina.” Satana smiled at her and combed her hair with her fingers, “Get up, we both know Lord Dracon is not going to find his end in this patch of earth. Besides, what will I tell him when he asks me, where is my Venalina?” that made her sit up and look at Satana. She looked down at the earth and whimpered.

  “If only he would.” Venalina was saddened.

  “Oh, come now,” Satana said combing her hair from her face, “I see how he looks at you, like a young man in love, for the first time, the way you two dance around each other like it isn’t so.” Satana smiled at her. Venalina choked a tearful laugh, covering her mouth. Satana stood, pulling Venalina up with her, “We will set camp, and after the darkness is gone, we will find him,” Satana walked her off the patch of earth, to where the others were ready with the horses. She grabbed Venalina’s chin then wiped the tears from her eyes, “You know he isn’t dead. Smile, smile at how strong he is, smile, knowing that in the face of danger, you have given him a gift that will bring him back to us unharmed.” Satana whispered the last of her words. Venalina hugged Satana.

  They all mounted their horses and followed Thikuf down a ravine, to the base of a waterfall, some twenty feet high. They collected around the pool at the base and let their horses drink from its calm waters. While they made camp, Thikuf took charge of setting up a watch. Satana, meanwhile, managed Venalina, keeping her close, watching for any signs that Lord Dracon was dead. Satana did not know what she was looking for, but assumed she would know when she saw it. She talked to her about anything she could think of, to keep her mind off their missing lord, but it was hard. It was hard for all of them. The camp was relatively quiet and somber. All feeling the sting of seeing their king dragged underground, like some fairy tale monster taking him from them, in a cruel ironic twist. It was a long night of quiet and very little sleep.