The Dragon Writers Collection

by DragonWritersCollective

  They arrived on the shores of Volkstaad Harbor in the Kingdom of Haag in several small boats crewed by Roughneck sailors and carrying a contingent of Marines. Shalthazar insisted on leading as the contingent hopped over the gunnels of their boats and into the frigid waters of Volkstaad Harbor. Shalthazar had chosen this particular place to land for a reason; it was the seat of power of the recently departed Overlord of Iceplain. The sleepy appearance of Volkstaad did not fool the wizard, however. This enemy was powerful, but with the right display of might they would succumb to his own leadership, and do so easily.

  The bitter wind blew a wicked gale threatening to tatter the various standards and flags of his forces to pieces. But the harsh tundra wind represented its people well. They were fierce and sturdy, tenacious - if undisciplined - fighters and skilled farmers. Shalthazar knew it was best not to underestimate what fire lie hidden in the blood of even the farmers and fishermen.

  Seagulls fought the incessant wind overhead, spying a school of baitfish that had been disturbed by the boats in the surf. Without flinching the wizard waded to the shore, flanked by heavily armed Marine guards and followed by King Olaf Redskull. It was a simple city, really. There were several long huts with several chimneys in each, smoke from the chimneys was blown away as fast as it escaped into the harsh wind. These huts, or longhouses, commonly served as home for a number of Vaardic families. Other longhouses served as common meeting places, and the living quarters of the ruling families. Merchant houses, markets, and other buildings were located off to one side of the city.

  After a time, Shalthazar’s horse was brought ashore and his troops marched onto the beach in tight formation. Shalthazar’s nightmare made the trip to shore in a larger boat with a square bow ramp that beached itself to the side of his troops. A wide square ramp fell to the sandy beach and the sleek horse from the netherworld ambled up the beach; steam rose from her hooves as they struck the damp sand. The Prophet-General climbed atop his nightmare and walked to the command position at the lead of his Marines.

  Shalthazar knew that he must show these warrior people he was hard as steel, but honorable. The corpse of Overlord Varrex Jarssen was dragged through the surf behind the wizard where its stiff form was placed on the sandy beach. A team of Nashian Marines then strapped the corpse to a pole and set it firmly in the sand, corpse dangling for all the gathered Vaardic people to see. Some of the Vaard, upon seeing a fleet of boats bearing foreign troops to their shores, had come out to fight while others had come out for answers. All stood silently, ominously, awaiting some sign of intent from the Nashians. All was silent save for the blistering wind, violently whipping battle standards, and squalling seagulls; the latter perturbed at the disrespectful interruption by the newcomers.

  King Redskull walked past the Nashian forces and addressed the silent group of Vaardic townsfolk, who, seeing themselves vastly outnumbered, chose not to attack the well-armed troops of the Nashians. Shalthazar’s personal interpreter accompanied Redskull. As the king shouted to his people over the howling wind, the interpreter translated and the wizard envisioned murmurs of disbelief running through the crowd. Shalthazar thought for a moment the Vaard might actually attack Redskull, but the Vaard king pointed to the last company of troops in the Nashian formation. Several of Redskull’s warriors had already accepted Nashian leadership and had been outfitted with Nashian armor and weapons. Shalthazar hoped that this show of fealty would encourage other Vaardic people to ally themselves with his forces.

  A few of the elders of the city of Volkstaad approached Olaf Redskull, he was respected among them as king of the nearby lands of Dayne and ally to the kingdom of Haag. Sill, a heated conversation ensued among the gathered elders and powerful men of the kingdom with several obvious references to the dangling corpse of their former Overlord. These men were burly and barrel-chested, wearing furs and bearing massive hammers and battle-axes. Shalthazar and his men looked on silently, making no move, intending to intimidate their opponents with their stalwart discipline. There was much shouting, and finger pointing from the assembled barbarian lords, and one of the men took a swing at Redskull. The nimble king agilely sidestepped the punch and the man stumbled and fell in the cold, wet sand. The angry Vaard lord hopped to his feet and launched into a tirade at Olaf.

  “Holy One, it appears we may lose our puppet,” said Colonel Sauger, concerned at the situational deterioration.

  Suddenly, Olaf reached out and slashed the throat of his angry opponent with a small belt knife. The man fell to the ground, clutching his throat. Blood spurted through his clenched fingers staining the sand as he looked around frantically for help.

  Shalthazar grinned inwardly at the sight. Olaf stood over him, looking his opponent in the eye, and watched him die. The other two men who had been on the verge of helping the first, stood silently by, declining now to interfere. When the man had ceased movement, and sand beneath him had turned red, each of the other two men knelt before Olaf and stretched an arm toward him in deference.

  Olaf turned from his countrymen and walked back to Shalthazar and Colonel Sauger. He bowed low to the prophet and spoke to him.

  “My liege, the kings of Svaka and Fomor are now in agreement and have sworn fealty to me and to you. The king of Kjavik did not. Long have we fought amongst ourselves; even under the rule of our Overlord, division has been our weakness when facing Southlanders. Now we are united under your leadership. You will bring us glory and wealth and respect!”

  The dark wizard nodded at the king and said “Very well, Olaf. You may be sure the history books will look kindly upon Olaf Redskull, Healer of Iceplain, Bringer of Faith. Ilian Nah is pleased with you.” The elf was beginning to enjoy the charade of his holy persona. “You shall now bear claim to the lands of Dayne, Kjavik, and Haag.”

  “Thank you, Holy One. We would be honored if you would share the Word of Ilian Nah with our people in the village,” said the king.

  “King, I would be delighted to share the Word with your people.”

  King Olaf Redskull and Prophet-General Shalthazar worked diligently to shore up allegiances among the various clans who were under the jurisdiction of the Vaardkings. There was much spite and bitterness to overcome. Differences were eventually forgotten for the sake of forging a true nation of Northerners, and for the lure of gold. Before long, King Redskull had made himself the most powerful king in Isfjell - with the help of the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah.

  General Nox’s engineers established a barracks and built a defensible fortification around the city of Volkstaad. They dug a massive canal around the Volkstaad and diverted water in from the bay to form a moat. A fortified wall with defensible towers had been built in Volkstaad and a permanent trading base had been established. Orders for Vaardic seafood, fine sheep’s wool, and meat had been placed and shipments to Old Nashia would soon begin. The return trips would bring merchant settlers and more troops to help hold the lands brought under Nashian control. In addition, engineers and troops had been sent to nearby cities in Kjavik, Svaka, Fomor, and Dayne.

  Regular patrols into the wilderness were created to make the Nashian presence known to the baronies, city-states, and principalities of the Southlanders. Conflicts between the bands of vicious brigands who claimed rule over the wilderlands and the forces of Colonel Sauger’s Marines led to the deaths of many criminals. The brigands who terrorized merchants, wreaked havoc on outlying farmsteads, and raided larger cities, had quickly learned that fighting the Nashians would be pointless.

  Word spread like wildfire from among the independent lands of the Northern Continent. Trade was now open and free and roads were becoming safe to travel as Nashian troops patrolled the highways. Nashia began plans to improve highways and build forts from which the Nashian troops could operate. Supply lines were being established deep into the territory of the Northern Continent as fall deepened and Shalthazar had done little more than study the Sigils and train his apprentices.

  But Shalthazar desperately wanted
to add a real prize to his territory, and the nearby Principality of Caelambra would be that prize. It was an established state ruled by a prince with vibrant trade, fertile farmlands, a stout navy and a strong defense force. But, with word of the accomplishments of the Nashians spreading quickly, the Caelambrans demanded their prince to welcome the Nashians. Battalions of troops had marched to the outskirts of the city and the combined Nashian and Vaardic Fleet loomed on the horizon of the sea-faring city. When the prince refused to open the gates to the Nashians, the city guard staged a coup and ousted the prince. The Commander of the Guard named himself Ruler of Caelambra and declared loyalty to the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah.

  The Nashian’s successes brought hope to the people who lived in terror of marauders who plagued their wilderness, the Vaard who ruled the seas, and the unforgiving reality of life on a harsh continent. Before the Prophet-General knew it, he had conquered half of the continent! Trade was taking off between the lands of the new empire and gold was flowing across the sea to Old Nashia. It couldn’t have gone better! He held up the advancement of his troops at the Ogrewall Mountains that divided the former “wildlands” from the more prosperous Cklathish and Sargannish kingdoms further south and west. Shalthazar decided that it would be best to await the coming of spring before risking a foray into the lands of the Ogres Tribes in the Ogrewall Mountains, and beyond.

  The campaign lull would also allow him to devote the necessary resources he needed to begin searching for something which would allow the evil elf to begin the plans he kept even from Umber.

  Joint training exercises commenced between the Vaard and others from the subjugated city-states whom the Vaard referred to as Southlanders. Old rivalries were forgotten between Southlanders and Northlanders as the prospect of wealth and security fast became reality. Recruiting among the Nashian forces was high, and many people were joining the Army to improve their station; such was the promise of life in the service of Nashia. The local forces had been outfitted with Nashian armor and weapons and were permitted to decorate their armor with their own badges, coats of arms, and other customary symbols. Eventually the combined soldiers of the Vaard and Southlanders became known as the Ice Brigade and were commanded by their General: King Olaf Redskull.

  Relations between the Nashian regulars and the new recruits were strong and all were eager for the arrival of springtime, and war. As Umber had predicted, these people welcomed Shalthazar for being a strong leader, and they delighted in the prospect of plundering the spoiled Sargannish and Cklathish nations. Nashians learned much from the Northlanders and Southlanders under their command, including sharing cultures and learning languages.

  Nashian advisers arrived from the homeland across the sea and brought with them reinforcements and supplies and goods from Nashia to sell in Vaardic and Southlander markets. The Vaard were thrilled to learn of the Nashians’ thirst for fresh fish, in particular Vaardic salmon and trout, which were all but unheard of across the sea. Vaardic sheep also brought some of the finest wool and tasty meat Nashians had ever known and it was demanding a high price. In return the Vaard were pleased to have beef, cheeses, wines, and produce that were unavailable to them without conducting raids to the south. Trade in spices, food, clothing and other valuables flourished between Old and New. This new turn to reliance upon trade for survival, rather than raiding, had proven to be attractive to much of the Vaardic society and many eagerly entered the merchant industry.

  The Nashians also brought some modern advancements to the Vaard, such as rudimentary plumbing and advanced building designs. Vaardic life had always been harsh and discipline had always been kept by the sword. Shalthazar assumed that this was part of the reason why they had adapted so well to the militant Nashian society.

  Shalthazar began to study his enemies, the Cklath and the Sargannish. The Cklath inhabited a larger region commonly referred to as the Cklathlands. These lands were a collection of mainland nations and islands ruled by various kings, and thaynes and tar-thaynes. They were fierce and formidable and had been known to unify under common threats. Using his network of informants and spies, the wizard decided that quietly turning their kings to his side could provide the division amongst them that would prove to be their undoing.

  The next most serious threat the wizard faced was a powerful duchy bordering the Cklathlands, known as the Sargan Duchy. An Arch-Duke with claims of ancient Imperial heritage ruled over the vast lands. He commanded five separate armies, each stewarded by a great earl of distinction under his sway. It was reported that this Arch-Duke had aspirations of conquering eastward into lands now controlled by Shalthazar. The elf chuckled at that, wondering if this would-be emperor was now weighing the Prophet-General in the same way.

  But, the Sargan Duchy lay far to the west and far away from his current concerns. North of its borders was a nation of elves known as the Crimson Elves; fierce, proud, powerful in magic; they would be a serious threat to Umber’s plans. Shalthazar could not help but feel a twinge of animosity towards the imperious, pompous, and condescending so-called Crimson Elves. They would be no different than the smarmy elves of his home world and he would delight in their misery!

  All of these various thoughts ran swiftly through the sharp mind of the wicked elf in the briefest of moments. But he put them aside as three of his most important lieutenants entered his office. “Colonel Sauger, Admiral Maynar, Colonel Nox, King Redskull,” announced Shalthazar’s servant. He smiled amiably at the men as the entered and took their places around his war-table.

  “Welcome, men! May the light of Ilian Nah shine on you,” the elf said benevolently. The ranking officers bowed their heads and said, “And you as well, Prophet.”

  Shalthazar sat, followed by his guests. Every so often he convened a council with his top advisors to keep them informed of on the complete actions and benefits of their military campaign.

  “Our new nation is developing quite nicely. The interior has been subjugated, at least as far as the Ogrewall Mountains, where the Ogre Tribes reside. There is still much of the northern wilderness which we may, or may not, get to before spring.”

  “Trade to Old Nashia is flowing nicely and supplies, troops, and more colonists are arriving constantly. Our people are settling into their roles as mentors for these backward peoples. When spring thaws the passes, and the snows melt, we will move into the ogre lands. You all have done very well!” Shalthazar learned that a little praise for subordinates went a long way, although he still felt awkward bestowing anything but scorn on those beneath him. Ahh, but great rewards awaited him!

  “How is the training coming, King Redskull?“ asked the wizard.

  “The troops have developed nicely under the tutelage of General Nox, Holiness. They are ready and eager to spread the wrath of the Vaard and the glory of Nah!”

  Shalthazar’s use of the Nashian language had improved rapidly and surprisingly, as had that of his men. He was proud of this rag-tag group of miscreants-turned-soldiers, at least as much as the selfish and power-hungry elf could be proud of anything.

  “Excellent. General Nox, do you have units selected to stay back and defend our territory?“

  “Yes, Holiness. My Eastern Highland Brigade arrived in country three weeks ago. They have acclimated well and are now familiar enough with the region. I will leave a team of advisers to assist them.”

  “What about our reserves?”

  “Another brigade of Eastern Highlanders will travel with us as our reserve force.”

  Shalthazar nodded curtly. “Colonel. How did your expedition to the south go?” he said as he turned to face the Marine.

  “Holiness,” began the Marine, awkwardly. “As you have learned, there are several kingdoms which make up the area known as ‘Cklathlands.’ The Cklathish kingdom known as Brythyn is the largest. It has a population of nearly two million people and a regular army of fifty thousand. We could expect that number to increase by double on short notice due the existence of a well-trained reserve militia. T
heir archers are deadly and their mounted bovine cavalry will be brutally effective against our own horse. The most disciplined foot units would not withstand a charge from these fearsome creatures, Holy One.”

  It won’t be fragile humans facing this bovine cavalry, however, the wizard mused.

  “Too, the terrain is mountainous and their borders are well protected. However, the Cklath are somewhat distracted, Holiness.“

  “How so?” asked Shalthazar.

  “There is another Cklathish territory across the bay, far to the south. It is known as Hybrand and it has long been under the thumb of the Arnathian Empire. Unrest and rumors of instability are rampant, the Imperial Monarchy has lost much respect. Also, there are factions within the territory that are working to oust the Arnathians.

  “The patron god of Arnathia, known as Qra’z, has begun rooting out non-believers from the empire. All non-humans are persecuted and magic is strictly forbidden on pain of death. However, somewhat contradictory rumors indicate an Arnathian plan to invade northward into the Cklathish lands of Brythyn, while still other rumors indicate a Cklathish invasion to the south is inevitable.”

  The wizard mentally chewed on this information. Some of it he already knew, having planted the seeds of unrest in Hybrand himself much earlier.

  “Prophet-General,” the colonel continued, “my scouts have learned of a legend among the people of this continent.”

  “Legend?” the wizard asked with only slight interest. Legends were sometimes rooted in fact, and could prove to be useful intelligence with the right analysis; other times, worthless.

  “There is a legend of a hidden tomb deep in the forests beyond Brythyn. It is called the Tomb of the Dark Paladin; a mortal human who attempted to challenge a god to mortal combat five centuries ago. It is said that he was a paladin who was once good but turned evil and wreaked much havoc upon the world before he was destroyed. In the last moments of his life he saw the error of his ways and he begged forgiveness from his god, Zuhr, who rewarded him with a cursed existence guarding his own tomb. It is said this paladin guards his own tomb to this very day, protecting its secrets from any who might seek to repeat his mistakes.”