The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  The Halls of the Fallen King

  Beating Back the Darkness, Book II

  By Tiger Hebert

  THE HALLS OF THE FALLEN KING

  Copyright © 2018 by Tiger Hebert. All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the author.

  This novella is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Brightblade Press

  Cover Design by

  Stefan Celic and Tiger Hebert

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  1 War in the Heavens

  2 Snow-Swept Passage

  3 Welcoming Party

  4 Descending into Darkness

  5 A Spark in the Dark

  6 Night of the Living Dead

  7 Father Time

  8 Hunted

  9 From Dying Lips

  10 Dinner is Served

  11 The Gift

  12 The Pools of Arloss

  13 Keepers of the Flame

  14 Bedlam

  15 Once Bitten, Twice Shy

  16 Shadow Games

  17 Audience with the King

  18 Two Lives End and One Begins

  19 A Titanic Risk

  20 From His Slumber

  21 The Promise of Power

  22 Secrets

  23 Playing with Fire

  24 Cloaks and Daggers

  25 Dragon’s Fire

  26 A Wizard Walks Among Them

  27 What Dreams May Say

  28 A Leap of Faith

  29 To Walk Among the Gods

  30 An Invitation

  31 The Unseen Wheel

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Book List

  1

  War in the Heavens

  People danced, drinks were spilled, promises were made, and lies were told as the music played. Theros Hammerfist sat near a bay window that had frosted over, where he enjoyed a plush, over-sized chair. The heat from the roaring hearth had no issue reaching him from across the crowded room, but the drafty windows helped keep him cool. He watched the female servers flirt with the patrons in an effort to help them part with an extra coin or two. Meanwhile, the proprietor, a charming old fellow named Hedgerton, continued to regale folks at the bar with the heroic tales of his youth. Everyone knew ole Hedgerton was full of crap, but it never seemed to dampen their enthusiasm for his stories.

  The gray-skinned orc chuckled. The North Star Tavern wasn’t much to look at, but it was comfy, and Theros liked it here. The ale was a tad too bitter, the food was overcooked, the music was off-key, but at least he didn’t have to break up any drunken fights. Most importantly, it gave him something to do in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, which was all the time.

  Much had changed over the past couple months. Slayvin the Deceiver, the Black Dragon, was dead. It had been just over two months since Aneri’On struck him down. Much had changed, indeed. Jasprita, and in reality, the whole Northern half of Darnisi was a paradox. It was the aftermath of the bloodiest period in her history and it had been the most brutal winter in memory, but the city was a tulip springing to life. The heroic feats of the Frelsarine brought the people new life and energy, as their hearts trusted to hope once more. Few places showed that more than this tavern.

  Bad stories, bad food, and bad ale are all okay as long as we have hope, mused Theros.

  Frigid air rushed inside as the tavern door swung open. A man stepped in and closed the door. He turned toward Theros, revealing dark hair and a thick beard, and made his way over. Theros sat up.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  Theros replied, “Good evening, Melgrim.”

  “You’ve got a visitor, he just flew in.”

  Theros’ eyes grew wide. “Where’s he at?”

  “Come with me.” Melgrim motioned for him to follow.

  Theros had planned to wait for the weather to clear up in the spring, then lead a small expedition east to Duroc’s Refuge, but plans would have to change. Talus the Gryphon Lord had returned with news. Despite the treacherous weather, the long-awaited message had arrived, hopefully providing answers to the orc’s many questions.

  Theros finished bundling up tightly and pulled the collar of thick brown bear fur snugly around his neck, then he followed Melgrim outside. The bitter cold winds whistled as they violently blew past them into the east. The wind, armed with tiny crystallized snowflakes, had turned into a blinding blast of arctic misery for all poor souls that had the misfortune of being stuck out in the elements. Melgrim led him to a quiet part of town just in time for the massive winged beast to land before him.

  “I’ll leave you two to chat, good evening,” said Melgrim.

  Theros nodded, then turned to Talus, the Gryphon Lord. “Not exactly flying weather, so I trust you’ve got bad news.”

  “Too true my friend, I must cut to the chase. Have you any knowledge of the Elder Stones?” asked Talus over the gusting winds.

  “Nope.”

  “Let us escape the wind, and I will tell you what I know.”

  “This way,” agreed the orc as he led Talus to a shelter large enough to house the gryphon.

  Once they escaped the elements, Talus relayed the story.

  “I’ve flown far and wide for the information that I have to share with you. This tale digs deep. What I’m about to relay to you will only scratch the surface. However, the people that provided me the information, also provided me with this saddle bag. If you look inside, you’ll find an old tome. You’ll want to take it with you on your journey. Anyway, I’ll recite what I’ve read from the texts.”

  Talus paused for a moment and threw out his wings, shedding some of the snow from his feathers, then continued, “Sometime after the dawn of creation, the Ancient One crafted gem stones. Each one had... properties that made it distinctly different from the rest, but they all shared a common property. Each stone served as an amplifier or conduit of energy. These gems were then given to the ranking members of the Seraphim Order. They were to be used to empower them to do the Master’s will. However, even the small taste of their now amplified power was too much for some of them, four to be exact. Their names were Raiza’kin, Lenarr, Tasiduul, and Karoth’del. They hungered for more, and that lust for power slowly twisted and corrupted their hearts and minds. Raiza’kin, the youngest of the four, led the renegade angels in a plot to seize control of the Seraphim Order with the intent of overthrowing the Ancient One.”

  Talus spread his wings once more, then settled back into the story. “The first step in their plan was to defeat their brother Akiroth, so they could steal his power gem. Akiroth had already seen the seeds of corruption growing in their hearts though, so he was prepared for them. Despite being perhaps the greatest warrior in all of the Heavens, he knew that he could not stand against his four siblings and their Elder Stones. When the trap was sprung, Akiroth summoned all his brothers and sisters to bear witness to their treason. He pleaded with his brothers to turn from the path they had embarked upon, but they refused to listen. Raiza’kin decried his brother’s stance and the Ancient One’s laws. They declared their freedom, saying they would never be slaves again. Instead they would take the power that was rightfully theirs, and they would use it to free
the Seraphim. Raiza’kin invited Akiroth to join them, to help set their brethren free. When Akiroth refused, the four enraged seraphs attacked him. Sides were drawn in the heavens that day. Angels that refused to resist the temptation joined the four, while those loyal to the Ancient One joined Akiroth. Thus began the Everwar.”

  “The four and their legion were able to wrestle the stone away from their brother, but Akiroth was wiser than them all. He understood something his wicked brothers and sisters didn’t. He understood that true power was not something that could be channeled through a stone, but rather that which emanated from the Ancient One. So he called down the power of the Almighty and unleashed it upon his adversaries. The overwhelming blast of righteous fury expelled them from Heaven. Raiza’kin and his followers were sent crashing into the lower dimensions, where some of them are said to still dwell to this day. Even though the war did not end with their eviction, there was major fallout. The gems of power slipped from their grasp and tore through the barrier between the spirit realm and the mortal realm. The Elder Stones entered our world and were soon scattered across Aurion.”

  Theros stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face as he listened to the details.

  Talus continued, “Thousands of years went by without much attention being brought to these gems. Those that were found were indeed treasured by their keepers, and it is true that even some wars were fought over them, but it appears that most of the people that fought in those wars were merely unknowing pawns, serving the greeds and lusts of those that ruled them.”

  “Such is war,” said Theros.

  “True. In fact, I myself had never even heard of them until I started this quest for answers.”

  “So what do these...what did you call them?

  “Elder Stones,” replied Talus.

  “So what do these Elder Stones have to do with the dwarven city?”

  Talus replied, “It’ll become clear in a moment. It was just after the turn of the 74th century, when fortune smiled upon Duroc Stonebrow. It was then that the dwarves discovered the vast wealth of riches that lay below the Highland Pass. As the younger of two princes, Duroc would not have normally inherited a kingdom of his own, but his father, King Torgrin feared that they could lose the great fortune. So he commissioned Duroc to turn the dig site into a dwarven kingdom of his own. That kingdom came to be known as Duroc’s Refuge.

  “Duroc’s Refuge, the second dwarven kingdom of the West quickly rose to prominence in the region. It is believed that Duroc himself also rose in power, but of a different kind. I have spoken with those familiar with these types of things, and they say that the magical power released within that keep slowly, yet consistently grew. No details are known about what took place down there, but eventually the radiation of power from that place started to grow in dramatic, dangerous fashion. It appeared to reach some form of critical mass, and then it stopped. The traces of energy all but dissipated leaving only the faintest pulse of power within the keep until it too faded into nothingness. For many years that place seemed to be a lifeless tomb, but the pulse has returned, gaining strength in recent years. Now the echoes of old magic resonate through the bowels of that cavern once more, and they are growing stronger my friend.”

  “So what makes you believe this power comes from these Elder Stones and not just sorcery?” asked Theros.

  Talus said, “Interestingly enough, though there is no historical proof that Duroc did indeed come into possession of a stone, there are several sources that cite his frequent travels to... well peculiar locations. Again there is no proof of this either, but there is a lot of documented speculation as to the rise of his powers, which seem to parallel some of those journeys. Additionally, this all happened about the same time as the recorded references to the stones, scarce as they were, ceased. No new records, texts, or histories have been written on them since.”

  “So you are thinking that he traveled the world collecting these gems.”

  “It is a logical conclusion.”

  “And these Elder Stones are also what drew the goblins?”

  “One way or another, yes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Goblins themselves are not keen on magic. Most of them can’t comprehend it, so naturally most fear it. However, they have indeed been drawn to it, all the way from Khal’gom. The raids that hit the highlands last year were not typical goblin raids. They were searching for something in particular. My best guess is that the Goblin King, Groknahl, knows about the Elder Stones, and he covets one. For what purpose, is anyone’s guess, but I believe he is far from finished with his pursuit of it,” added the lord of the gryphons.

  “Have you seen any new goblin activity?” questioned Theros.

  “The pride is on the lookout, but none have been spotted on our shores, at least not yet,” replied Talus.

  “Whatever is down there destroyed an entire kingdom; we cannot let it get into goblin hands. We must make haste, and begin our journey.”

  “Those ruins are no places for horses and hralls. I’ve got a centaur named Dramar set to keep an eye on the Highland Pass. He will meet you there to pick them up and care for them.”

  “Wise as always, my friend,” replied Theros.

  “Make sure you take this book: who knows what clues it might hold,” said the gryphon as he inclined his neck toward the saddle bag. “And Theros, one more thing. Sorcery... is a serpent; wicked, cold-blooded, and cunningly deceitful. Remember these words my friend. ”

  The orc looked into his friend’s noble eyes and without saying a word he shook his head in agreement before departing the shelter. He allowed those words to echo in his mind as he trudged through the now ankle-deep snow. It was time; he had to find the others. He’d gotten the last bit of information they needed. It was time for the orc to make his rounds and let his companions know that it was time. Their journey was about to begin.

  Theros and his companions made their final preparations. Dom hugged and kissed Gretchen and the girls in a tearful goodbye. Kiriana said goodbye to her teacher, Grandmaster Duncan, one last time. Nal’drin opted to spend his final few minutes in Jasprita speaking with King Nikolai. It was his moral imperative to ensure that the people that he would have ruled over, had his kingdom not been destroyed during the war, were in good hands.

  Theros spent a few minutes speaking with Gron and Broz, the most trusted orcs of his tribe. “Gron, I need you to act in my stead as ruling chief of the GreyHide tribe until I return. Do everything you can to keep the confederation at peace until I return. Broz, watch his back.”

  “Yes Chieftain,” echoed the orcs.

  Goodbyes were said and the orc joined his companions. The mounts were loaded and it was time to go. In true orc fashion, Theros and Sharka had mighty hralls prepared to carry them on the cross country journey, while Kiriana, Nal’drin, and Dominar opted for the common method of travel—horseback. With their furs cinched tight and their beasts loaded up, the five adventurers, six if you counted Theros’ fury friend Swift, began their journey. And so they departed Jasprita that cold and snowy evening. With the driving wintry wind at their backs, they traveled east toward Duroc’s Refuge.

  2

  Snow-Swept Passage

  In the beginning, the Father created the Eversphere and then the Seraphim. He then finished creation of everything within the Eversphere, and connected all the worlds therein. Then the Father charged us, the Seraphim, with the service and protection of one of his new creations, his children.

  So the Father bestowed upon us the ability to call upon his power to perform this task. We learned how to draw upon trace amounts of his power and then release them to great effect. We called it the magics. With the magics we healed the sick, brought rain to dry lands and gave wisdom to men and women to rule and reign. There was no good thing that we could not do with the magics, given the time to draw enough of the Father’s essence into us...

  The Father has entrusted us with far more than we should ever dare to
touch. The Elder Stones are in some way, a piece of the Father himself. It is indeed the power of a God. To many it would seem to be a mistake, even I could see the darkness in their hearts once they touched it. But the Father knows all: he had already borne witness to their treason.

  War in the Heavens, Jazren of the Seraphim Order

  THEROS RODE THE HRALL all hunched over with the furs of his hood pulled tight around his face. The outer layer of the thick wool scarf that covered half of his face had already frozen over with a dizzying array of icy particles. It was the worst of conditions to travel in. Fortunately, the snow was only ankle-deep in most spots, apart from the drifts of course. It was the driving wind though, that made the whole ordeal miserable. As always this time of year the winds blew easterly, with rogue gusts howling down from the North. The bitter mountain air was the worst part. It raced down off the outstretched arms of the Sky Reach Mountains and hunted for souls to haunt. Tonight it once again found Theros and his companions.

  He had warned them to bundle up as much as they could, but it simply became impractical after a certain point. There is only so much you can do when riding across country. To make matters worse, the constant battering from the wind threw the light coating of powder everywhere. Theros could scarcely see, and he doubted his companions fared any better. So with downcast eyes, they crept forward. Ironically, their saving grace this night may just have been that wicked wind. At least they knew which direction it came from. It was their compass rose. So onward they trudged across the Northern Wastes.

  Every once in a while Theros thought one of his companions might have said something, but none of it could be heard over the racket of whooshing and whistling. So he gave up trying listen, and he returned to the silent trek. In the evenings when they camped they would speak, but during the day they rode in silence. Until then, like the snow, his mind would drift—to even more miserable things.

  Mistress Kiriana, the master slayer was having major regrets. The present circumstances were brutal, especially for a girl from the jungles of Tempour. They didn’t have weather like this back home. Nope, but this is an adventure, she thought. Why is it that we are always so eager for adventure until we have to experience the discomfort it offers. Kiriana was not happy about their circumstances, and she gathered that she wasn’t alone in that, but after everything she’d been through, her life had changed. More than that, her life had been taken—only to be given back to her. People often speak of second chances, yet for her it was true in the most literal sense. After Aneri’On spoke life into her dying body, something within her changed. She couldn’t put her finger on it, and it wasn’t anything that the Frelsarine had told her, but she knew her life would never be the same again. Now it was up to her to find out why.