by Peter Hall
“You had a task to complete!” it said, hissing.
“Yes my lord! Yes I have almost finished..”
“Silence!” the creature shouted.
It wrapped it’s clawed hand around the priest's neck and choked him. The priest's face started to turn blue and the creature hissed.
“I grow impatient, priest! Do not make me return!” it said and released its grip.
It flew out the door with incredible speed and the priest fell to the ground and caught his breath. As the color came back to his face he smiled and started to laugh. He got to his feet and closed the door, locking it with the small, bronze key. He took the book back out from under his bed and lit the candle which had blown out. He sat down and continued to scribe the last copy of the book. He finished the last copy the following night and wrapped the books in black cloth and placed them inside leather satchels. Before he went to sleep that night he went outside to the rear of the church and there was a cage with five pigeons inside. He opened the cage and released the birds and they flew off into the darkness.
Over the coming weeks, after the priest had finished his sermons, five separate times there was a knock on the door to his room. The visitors all were wearing black robes and necklaces with the silver bats. The priest gave them each a satchel and they left without speaking. After the last visitor left, the priest locked his door and sat down on his bed. He looked up and closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He had completed his task. Master will be pleased.
The next morning the priest put on his black robes and his necklace with the silver bat pendant, packed the original copy of the book into a leather satchel, slung it over his shoulder and left his room, locking the door behind him. He walked around to the front of the small church and opened the doors. He walked up to the altar and lit a candle, then he picked up the candle and held it to a velvet curtain that was hanging next to the altar. After it caught fire he moved over to the curtain on the other side of the altar and set it alight.
He dropped the candle and walked down the isle of the church and out the front door, the altar ablaze. He walked out the front doors into the cold wind and headed down the road. A villager woman ran up to him and he stopped.
“Father! Father there is smoke coming from the church! Father what are you…”
The priest pulled out a silver dagger and stabbed the woman in the throat before she could finish her sentence. Her eyes went wide and she gargled as blood ran from her mouth and throat. He pulled out the knife and she dropped to the ground, the blood expanding out from her neck across the white snow. He wiped the blade and kept walking. He got to the stables, mounted his horse and headed south into the snowy mountains as the church burned.
Bryn and Durandal stayed awake listening to the rain pour down outside the ruined guard tower while Eir slept next to the small fire. It was dark inside the tower. It was a tall round building with a winding staircase around the edge of the room made of stone and half of the tower had been destroyed, the stairs along with it, in some ancient battle. Lighting lit up the sky and for a moment the interior of the tower was briefly visible. Bryn thought she saw a dark figure standing against the wall on the other side of the room. She peered into the dark but she couldn’t see anything. Durandal looked over at her and sat up.
“What?” he said, confused.
A shadow leaped at Bryn before she could react and she felt a sharp pain in her stomach as she was knocked over. There was someone on top of her wearing a black robe. She screamed out and Eir woke with a fright. Durandal jumped up and kicked the robed assassin across the room, reached down and grabbed his sword. He looked at Bryn and she had blood gushing from her stomach. He looked up and saw the robed assassin lying in a heap on the ground as lightning flashed through the tower. He charged toward the assailant with his sword in the air, when he heard Bryn scream out;
“No! Don’t kill kim! We need him!” she said as she laid there holding her wound.
Durandal held his sword high and stared at the robed man lying on the floor. He was bald with a grey pointy beard and an eyepatch. He was holding a silver dagger covered in blood. The man looked up and held a hand in the air to protect his face.
“Please!” he said “Please don’t kill me!”
Durandal lowered his sword and kicked the silver dagger out of his hand. He grabbed the man by his robes, pulling him to his feet and eyeballed him closely. “Who are you old man!” Durandal said, his temper boiling over.
Then a cheerful tune echoed around the tower. He looked over at Bryn and Eir was kneeling by her side, playing her flute. Bryn’s body glowed bright gold for a moment lighting up the room and Durandal and the robed assassin stared in amazement as Bryn got to her feet and dusted herself off.
“Bryn!” Eir shouted and started clapping and giggling.
Bryn put her hand to her stomach, and the wound was gone. What the Hades?
Durandal looked at the man and he held his hand’s up.
“M-my n-name is Garet.” he said nervously.
Durandal let him go and saw the necklace hanging around his neck. He snatched it off and looked at it. It was the same one Bryn had shown him. He tossed the necklace to Bryn and looked at Garet. “You're going to tell us where your master is hiding.” Durandal said and held his sword to the old man’s neck.
“I’ll take you there. Please. Please don’t kill me.” Garet said, sobbing.
“Tell us now and we will let you go, otherwise I will separate your head from your body. Do you understand?” Duarandal said and pressed the sword into Garet’s neck.
“How do I know you won’t kill me after I tell you?” Garet said.
“You don’t. But I will definitely kill you if you refuse.” Durandal replied.
Garet’s eyes darted around and sweat was pouring from his brow. “How do you know I won’t lie to you?” he said.
Eir walked up, unsheathed her sword and pointed it at Garet’s genitals. “I have a magick power.” she said as Garet looked down. “I can tell when someone is lying... and I hate liars!” she said menacingly.
“Drogan! The master is in Drogan Castle, high in the mountains of Asgard. Now please! Let me go!” Garet said, sweat pouring down his face.
Durandal looked over at Bryn and she nodded. He lowered his sword, then Eir reluctantly lowered hers. Garet looked at them and then ran through the entrance to the guard tower into the night. Durandal turned and looked over at Bryn.
“Are you alright Brynhildr?” he said as he sheathed his sword.
“Im fine.” she said and walked over to him. “Now we know where we are headed. Drogan. That’s a long journey from here.” she said and looked over at Eir. She was listening for something.
“Do you hear that?” she said
Bryn listened. The horses reared up on their hind legs and became agitated. Over the pouring rain and the thunder she heard the rumble, the screeching. It was coming from the south, from the mountains, echoing across the barren wastes.
“Durandal, help me with the horses, Eir stay inside.” She said and ran out into the rain to get Odin, Durandal following close behind.
They untied the horses and Eir’s pony and brought them inside the tower. They calmed the horses down and held their reins as the noise grew louder.
“Eir come here and stay close” Bryn shouted over the noise.
Durandal stomped the fire out and they all huddled together with the horses in the dark tower. The noise started to become deafening and before long the swarm was upon them. The monstrous bats flew straight over the tower, like a dark shadow sweeping across the land. The noise was hideous and unbearable. They held their ears and after some time the noise started to fade as the creatures headed north towards Iliad.
“We have to go, now!” Bryn said. “The horde will be coming. We need to get to Iliad before they get here or we’ll be done for.”
They gathered their things and mounted their steeds outside the tower. Bryn looked to the mountains in the s
outh but she could see nothing in the darkness. As thunder and lightning roared across the wastes, and the rain poured down incessantly, they turned their rides northwards and made a run for Iliad.
Garet ran from the tower as fast as he could in the pouring rain. The ground was muddy and he started to slow down as he pushed south towards the mountains. He stopped for a moment and caught his breath. Over the thunder and rain he heard them. His babies. He looked up and smiled. He stood in the rain and held his arms up and started laughing as the bats passed over him. He gripped his leather satchel tight and continued south through the night.
He continued across the wastelands throughout the next day and well into the evening. The rain had eased up as he reached the edge of the Northern Mountain Ranges. He kept moving and just as the sun began to set, he saw something ahead, lying in the mud. As he got closer he realised it was a person.
It was a young man. He was unconscious but he was breathing. He was wearing a light gold cuirass with a mirror finish and a green cape. Garet knelt down beside him and noticed the ornate longsword at the young man’s waist. He shook the man to see if he would wake. The man stirred and opened his eyes. He looked up at Garet and he seemed dazed. His lips were dry and his face was covered in dirt and blood.
“Hey take it easy boy.” Garet said. “Let me help you alright?”
Garet helped the man sit upright. “There you are. What’s your name boy? What are you doing out here alone in the wastes?”
The man looked over at Garet.
“My name is Steig. I… I am headed to… to Iliad.” he said.
Garet stood up, walked behind Steig and picked up a large rock. He walked back over and smashed the rock into the side of Steig's head. Blood sprayed out of his skull and he slumped to the ground. Garet dropped the rock and turned him onto his back. He unstrapped Steig’s belt and took his sword. He tied the belt to his waist and unsheathed Venom. It made it’s distinctive ringing sound as it was unsheathed and Garet held it up and studied the fine blade. He smiled and sheathed the sword, looking down at Steig bleeding out in the mud and rain.
“Thank you for the sword, boy.” he said and grinned, then he turned and continued south towards the mountains.
Dokkalfar or ‘Dark Elves’
‘Races of Eteria’ from ‘Eterialumen 1320th year since the cataclysm’
Dokkalfar are a grey skinned, reptilian race that live in subterranean kingdoms on the first continent, in a land to the south called Krael. Dokkalfar are tall and slender and have green eyes with black, vertical pupils. They are highly advanced and have an affinity for Natural Magicks and Unnatural Magicks alike. The Dokkalfar are perhaps the most infamous race in Eteria. Tales of their evil exploits can be heard far and wide, mainly in the west. Although most of the rumours surrounding the Dokkalfar are false, some are true. The Dokkalfar are mostly neutral towards humans although they have committed atrocities against them in the past. The Dokkalfar are embroiled in an ever escalating conflict with the Ljosalfar, who share the first continent on the northern end in a land known as Valenor. The Dokkalfar are the first known intelligent race to inhabit Eteria, they were the first species to evolve to humanoid form, from a simple reptile that survived the first cataclysm and came to shore to take shelter in caves. It stood on two legs and it lost its tail and thirty million years later it was building vast underground cities. None of this is known to humans as the Ljosalfar convinced the kings of Eteria long ago that the Dokkalfar were ‘Demons’, which they still believe to this day. Many humans believe the Ljosalfar to be ‘Angels’.
E.
VII
Ghosts of Asgard
Bryn, Durandal and Eir rode across the muddy wastelands as fast as they could go in the howling wind and pouring rain. Every so often Bryn would check over her shoulder and scan the darkness, so far there was no sign of the demon horde. They had been riding hard for about an hour and the mud was getting thicker as they ventured further north. It was slowing them down and Angel was struggling to keep up with the horses. Bryn could see Iliad ahead, it was still about an hour's ride away.
The city sat between two monolithic statues to the east and west, of the goddesses Esra and Trista. There were large spike pits around the outer walls and gates leading north and south from the city. Bryn could see the huge statues of the twin goddesses glistening in the moonlight. We’re going to make it. They were getting close. She looked over her shoulder and all she could see was rain and darkness. A bolt of lightning struck and lit up the wastes for a moment and she saw the horde. It was catching up to them. She looked forward and she could see the walls and the castle in the distance now.
“They’re coming!” Bryn shouted over the storm.
Durandal and Eir both looked back as they rode through the mud and saw the horde off in the distance, getting closer. The demons were gaining on them fast. Iliad loomed large ahead of them and Bryn could now see soldiers on the walls and she could make out the gate. What she couldn’t see was the spike pit surrounding the city. She looked back and the horde was close, she could hear them now.
The three of them charged toward the city gates as the horde closed in. Durandal and Bryn dropped back behind Eir and drew their weapons as the pony went as fast as it could go. Then they heard the thunderous flapping of bats ahead of them, growing louder. The swarm was circling over Iliad and swooping down, lifting people up in their talons and dropping them to their deaths. Smoke was billowing out from behind the walls. Bryn and Durandal glanced at each other and then looked back at the horde snapping at their heels. Eir spotted the spike pit ahead and her eyes widened.
“Spikes!” She yelled.
At that moment a large drawbridge lowered up ahead and the huge southern gate lifted open. Eir breathed a sigh of relief and urged her pony on. They made it to the drawbridge and it started lifting before they had even finished crossing it. The three slid down the last part of the bridge as it went up and through the gate before it slammed down behind them. A couple of demons had made it onto the bridge but they got squashed between the gate and the bridge as it slammed shut.
Bryn, Durandal and Eir were ushered through the inner southern gate to the city and it shut behind them as they went through. Bryn and Durandal dismounted their horses and the stable boy rushed over to tend to the fatigued animals. They could hear the sounds of battle coming from beyond the wall behind them. Durandal helped Eir down from her pony and the stable boy walked the horses over to the safety of the stables.
The horde poured into the spike pit like a waterfall and before long the spikes were covered in dead bodies. Much of the horde was wiped out but the remaining five hundred or so odd demons clambered over the bodies in the spike pit and climbed up the outer wall. Archers fired on them and they dropped like flies back into the pit. The ones that made it up to the ramparts were swiftly dealt with by awaiting soldiers. There were about fifty archers on the wall and they were making short work of the demons. As the last of the bodies fell into the pit, the soldiers all cheered.
A bat swooped into the wall and smashed a large section into rubble, knocking five of the archers into the pit below. They focused their attention back on the bats. There were around twenty or so bats left terrorizing the city. Their grotesque carcasses were lying here and there, some had crashed into houses and buildings leaving them destroyed or on fire. The villagers were mostly hiding in their homes and there were troops of soldiers jogging in formation, patrolling the city streets, their steel armour clanking in unicen as they went. Bryn and Durandal jogged north up the main street towards the northern gates with Eir following close behind. A bat swooped down and Durandal swung his mighty sword and cleaved the monster in half in an explosion of black blood.
Eir screamed and crouched down as the two halves of the bat flew past her and crashed into the ground. Bryn stopped and ran back, grabbing Eir by the shoulder.
“Eir! Are you alright?” she shouted over the chaos.
Eir looked up and nodded and smile
d but she looked afraid.
“Come on sweetheart we have to keep moving.” Bryn said and smiled at her.
She lifted Eir up and ran over to Durandal.
“Take Eir to the castle, I want to see what’s happening at the northern wall” Bryn said and handed him the Halfling.
He nodded. “Alright. Just be careful.”
Bryn leaned forward and kissed him. Eir’s eyes widened. “Stay with Eir, protect her. I will come back.” Bryn said.
She kissed Eir on the cheek and ran ahead towards the north gate through the smoke and bodies on the streets.
Durandal jogged up the main road towards the castle, sword in one hand, Eir in the other. Eir had her sword out and she was watching the skies as they made their way through the city. They got to the castle entrance and Durandal slowed down, catching his breath. There was a guard either side of the castle entrance. Durandal sheathed his sword at his waist and approached one of the guards. The guard looked at the Halfling with a puzzled look.
“I seek an audience with the king. It is a matter of great importance concerning the war.” Durandal said.
“Who are you?” the guard replied flatly.
“Durandal of Greymoore. My companions and I have travelled from Galadon. The city was overrun by a horde of the white demons.”
The guard’s eyes widened. “White demons? What the hades! I never heard of no white demons! We been fightin’ ghouls here for about six weeks. They just keep comin’ across the river from Asgard. Thousands of them! They haven't let up and the bodies of the dead ones outside the outer wall been piling up so high that the pile goes right to the top now! So now, they’re spillin’ over the outer wall! My advice, don’t go outside the inner gates, them ghouls are running rampant between the walls!”