by F. P. Spirit
The Heroes of
Ravenford
Book 3
Dark Monolith
F.P. Spirit
Revised Edition
Copyright @ 2017 F. P. Spirit
Cover Art by Jackson Tjota
Cover Design and Interior Formatting by S Professional Designs
Edited by Sandra Nguyen
ISBN-10: 0-9984715-2-6
ISBN-13: 978-0-9984715-2-5
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
Thanks to Tim for creating the world of Thac, and to Eric, Jeff, John, Mark and Matt for their roles in bringing the Heroes to life. Also, thanks to the rest of my friends and family who gave their time and support into the creation of this book.
The Heroes of Ravenford
Book 1 | Ruins on Stone Hill
Book 2 | Serpent Cult
Book 3 | Dark Monolith
Book 4 | Princess of Lanfor
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Titles in Series
Map of Thac
Heals and Heels
Wins and Losses
The Fortune Teller
False Accusations
The Serpent’s Head
Lloyd vs. Fafnar
Pearls
Lightning
Road to Vermoorden
House of Barmann
Theater of the Festive Spirits
Lake Monsters
Battle of the Bards
Dreams
Up the Creek
Black Gem
Temptress
Inazuma
Into the Darkwoods
Inside the Monolith
Chakras
Blades
Phantom Armor
Runic Wheel of Fortune
Air
Above the Clouds
Water
A Walk in the Park
Earth
Fire
Stealle
Golden Sphere
The Woman in the Woods
Shadow of the Colossus
The Truth About Ruka
Above the Colossus
Hopes and Prayers
The Golem Master’s Secret
Books by F.P Spirit
About Author
It has been nearly one hundred and fifty years since the end of the Thrall Wars, since the Thrall Lord and his minions reigned terror and destruction over the island continent of Thac. Chief among his lieutenants was the Golem Thrall Master, Larketh. The Dwarven master wielded a magic unparalleled even by today’s standards. His golems were the strongest of constructs and utterly under his control. Unfortunately, Larketh’s knowledge was lost with him at the end of that terrible war. To date, no trace of his works concerning golems has been found. Or if it has, it has been kept well hidden.
- Lady Lara Stealle, High Wizard of Penwick
Heals and Heels
If this were Dunwynn, those rogues would have never made it past the gates
Lloyd Stealle took a deep breath as he passed through the arched, double-door entrance to Ravenford Keep. It was something he immediately regretted. A sharp pain lanced up his side. It was definitely his ribs. One, or maybe even two, had been cracked during the battle with the Serpent Cult. The young warrior clamped his arm firmly to his side, giving no other outward sign of the pain he felt. It was a small price to pay for defeating the dark mages and their oversized serpents.
For reasons still unclear, the Serpent Cult had set its sights on the small seaport town. They had encircled Ravenford within a ring of monsters, assassins and demons. Caravans from the west were waylaid. Ships enroute down the coast were sunk. They even staged a home invasion of the town’s master wizard, Maltar. Then, in one final brazen move, the Serpent Cult infiltrated Ravenford Keep. The dark mages had threatened the lives of everyone therein. That had been their last mistake.
Lloyd had come to care a great deal for the people of Ravenford over the last few weeks, and none more so than the Lady Andrella. Lloyd and his companions had taken the Serpent Cultists head-on in defense of the young lady and her family, the Baron and Baroness of Ravenford. It had been a deadly battle in the keep’s courtyard, with casualties on both sides. In the end, Lloyd and his friends prevailed. Now, mere minutes after the battle had ended, he was being led into Ravenford Keep. His other arm was firmly linked to the spirited young woman whom he had come to care so much about.
The Lady Andrella Avernos was quite attractive, a fact that Lloyd had been keenly aware of from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Yet, there was more to the young lady than her tall, slender form, her long, perfectly coiffed strawberry blonde hair and her striking blue eyes. Andrella was rather intelligent, though she did her best to keep it hidden. She was also very strong-willed. Still, in quieter moments Lloyd had witnessed a gentleness about her, and a deep abiding concern for the people her family was charged with protecting. These were the qualities that he found most attractive.
“You were amazing!” Andrella gushed as she escorted him through the archway and across the black and white checkered floor of the keep’s wide foyer. “The way you faced down those giant serpents then rocketed into the air to finish that horrible wizard.” Her eyes glistened as she recounted his exploits.
“Oh, it was really nothing.” Lloyd grinned sheepishly, embarrassed by her passionate description of what was merely his duty. After all, he had sworn to protect the Baron and his family.
Andrella abruptly halted and retracted her arm from his. She placed her hands on her hips and gazed up at him with a petulant expression. “Lloyd Stealle! You are far too modest.” He felt himself flush even more as she stared at him, the frustration clearly written across her otherwise lovely face. After only a few moments, her eyes softened. Her expression changed and the corners of her mouth upturned slightly. “But I guess that is one of the things which makes you so endearing.”
Lloyd was unsure how to respond. He found himself completely and utterly mystified by this charming young woman. It was amazing how fast her mood could swing from anger to delight.
“Anyway, let’s get you healed up. She linked arms with him again.
Lloyd shook his head slowly but said nary a word. He had learned it was best to keep silent when faced with situations like this. The duo strode together into the keep proper and entered the main hall. Lloyd carefully scanned the large chamber—it had a vaulted, two-story ceiling, thick white columns interspersed at even intervals across the room, and four balconies on the second floor above them along either side of the lengthy room. The hall was decorated with plush red carpets, multicolored tapestries, and various portraits. There were a number of benches along the walls, some of which were already occupied.
Lloyd scanned those seats for Glolindir and Seth. After the battle, the duo was nowhere to be seen. Glo had disappeared, his absence made all the more ominous by the rantings of Voltark, the leader of the cult attack. He could still hear the evil mage’s sinister voice in his mind. You cannot defeat us! See how easily your wizard falls. As for Seth, he had not been seen since before the
Serpent Cult attacked.
As Andrella ushered Lloyd down the long hallway, he spied two familiar figures huddled close together on one of the benches. The first was clad in purple robes—the second wore an elegant bronze gown. A wave of relief suddenly washed over Lloyd. The purple-robed figure faced away from him, but there was no mistaking the long pale blonde hair and the tip of a pointed ear that peeked through those locks. That’s Glolindir!
There was no mistaking his companion either. The long golden-blonde hair with faint greenish highlights, the vivid aqua blue-green eyes, and the shimmering bronze dress all clearly indicated that it was Ves. The young lady was the eldest of the mysterious three sisters they had first met on the beach at Cape Marlin.
Lloyd quickened his step, overjoyed at having found his missing friend. “Glo!”
The elven wizard spun around, a thin smile spreading across his normally serious face. “Lloyd! Glad to see you are alright.”
A broad grin crossed Lloyd’s face. “I could say the same. From what Voltark had said, I feared the worst.”
Glo’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, well, I had a bit of a mishap.”
Before he could say another word, Ves cut him off, her head slightly tilted as she gazed at him reprovingly. “Glolindir took the full brunt of a ball of fire, despite the fact that his protection spell had all but run out.”
Andrella, still hanging on to Lloyd’s arm, squealed with alarm. “I saw that! You were almost burnt to a crisp!”
Glo face scrunched up into a pained expression. “Yes, but I didn’t really have much choice. After all, there was an entire crowd of guests behind me, including the both of you...” His eyes swept from Andrella to Ves.
Ves’s expression softened, a slight smile spreading across her lips. “No, I guess you did not,”
Andrella gave the wizard a wry smile. “It was rather brave—even if it was stupid.”
Glo glanced up at her and let out a short laugh. “Well, thankfully Ves was right there.” He reached out and grasped Ves’s hand. The young lady dropped her eyes down, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Just glad I could be of service.”
“Yes, Vestiralanna, thank you for taking such excellent care of our good friend,” a stately voice rang out from behind them.
Lloyd spun around. The Lady Gracelynn approached them from the direction of the courtyard. Gracelynn Avernos was the Baroness of Ravenford and Andrella’s mother. She was aptly named as the lady was the very picture of grace both in appearance and temperament. Perhaps an inch taller than Andrella, her lithe form seemed to glide across the hallway as she moved toward them. Her long chestnut hair flowed down from the small circlet across her brow and draped over the shoulders of her pale blue gown. Emblazoned on her chest was a golden circle with six rays spreading outward from it—the symbol of the god Arenor, the Hand of Light. Aside from being the Baroness of Ravenford, the Lady Gracelynn was also a very accomplished cleric.
Gracelynn led a procession of followers. Just behind her, Lloyd spied their friend Elladan, the elven bard still dressed in his white spangled outfit from the night’s earlier performance. He was accompanied by the bardess, Shalla. The light-brown-haired songstress was dressed similarly to Elladan, except in white and green. Next to the two bards stood Aksel, their copper-haired gnomish friend and leader of the little band of companions, garbed in his white clerical robes. He was accompanied by the town head cleric, Abbot Qualtan. The erstwhile traveling companion of the Baron, Qualtan now appeared to be a rather sour-faced middle-aged man.
Behind them stood Sir Brennon and Sir Duncan, knights from Lloyd’s own home city of Penwick. They were both dressed in the red doublet of the Penwick army, with shining rings of chainmail covering the rest of their bodies. Sir Duncan’s doublet was ripped, his chainmail tarnished and broken in spots. Next to Sir Duncan, dressed in a white doublet and chainmail, was the fierce redheaded Knight of the Rose who had also joined them on the battlefield, the Dame Alana. The entire group was flanked by Francis and Relkin, the two town guards who had befriended Lloyd and his companions over these last few weeks.
Lady Gracelynn stopped in front of them. “And thank you, Glolindir, for your bravery. Were it not for your sacrifice, I’m afraid there would have been many more folks who would have perished this evening.”
Glo merely bowed his head to the Baroness. The Lady Gracelynn smiled in return then turned around to address her entourage. “You were all quite brave, in fact, coming to our defense in our hour of need. Now let us repay you in some small measure. Please find an empty seat so we may tend to your wounds.”
Ves leaned in closer to Glo. “That’s my cue. We will talk later.” She then let go of his hand, got up and joined Aksel, Qualtan, and the injured combatants. The entire group moved on down the hall.
Andrella prodded Lloyd, her tone quite firm. “That means you, too.”
Lloyd sighed. He had been so distracted that he had almost forgotten about his own wounds. Now that she reminded him, he felt the pain again in his side. “Alright.”
Gracelynn took the seat Ves had just vacated. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just want to check on Glolindir first.”
Lloyd nodded his understanding. “No problem, your Ladyship.” He knew first hand that Ves was an excellent healer. However, considering that Glo had almost died, it made sense that Lady Gracelynn would want to give him a quick once over.
Andrella tugged on Lloyd’s arm and motioned with her head toward the next bench down. The others had left it vacant, probably assuming he would want to stay near his elven friend. Lloyd let Andrella lead him to the bench and they sat down. It was the first time he had sat since the battle with the Serpent Cult. It felt good. While they waited for Lady Gracelynn, Lloyd saw a slim figure zip by. The cap of short, sandy-blonde hair and the telltale pointed ears revealed that it was none other than Donatello. The wiry elf flashed him a quick twinkling smile then continued down the hallway. He did not stop until he caught up with the redheaded lady knight. Lloyd watched with keen interest as the slight elf smoothly gained the Dame Alana’s attention.
Andrella let out a soft laugh. “Your new friend there appears to be quite the charmer.”
Lloyd couldn’t help grinning. “It would seem so.”
Andrella slowly spun around, her eyes sparkling with laughter. The two of them stared at each other until Lloyd felt himself flush again. She’s so beautiful. He could still remember the taste of her lips. At the end of the battle, she had rushed across the field, thrown her arms around him and kissed him ardently. Now he wanted nothing more than to taste those lips again. Lloyd slowly leaned toward her. Andrella responded in kind.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” a familiar voice spoke up behind him.
Lloyd froze in place, the blood rushing to his cheeks. He spun around and saw the Lady Gracelynn standing there. She watched them curiously, the trace of a smile on her lips. Still red in the face, Lloyd stammered his reply. “N-no, not really.”
Andrella started to stand, but her mother waved her to stay where she was. “Sit, Andrella. The two of you just scoot over a bit, and I will have more than enough room.”
Andrella smiled brightly at her mother, then she and Lloyd slid over as requested. Lady Gracelynn seated herself on the other side of him. “Please give me a moment.”
She closed her eyes and folded her hands together, softly praying. It was a prayer to the god Arenor for divine power and guidance. Lloyd had heard that same prayer many times, his own sister being a priestess of the god of light. After a minute, her eyes snapped back open and she reached out, placing both her hands a few inches away from his side. White energy radiated from her palms, the light flowing over him and seeping into his body. The sharp pain in his side began to dissipate.
“The ribs are broken, so this may take a while,” Lady Gracelynn explained to him,
not taking her eyes off her work.
Lloyd nodded his understanding. He quieted his thoughts and focused on his breathing, doing his best to remain still. It was hard at first, but as the pain subsided, it became easier. He had just lulled himself into a semi-trance when the sharp click of boot heels echoed down the hall. Lloyd opened his eyes and saw Sir Fafnar marching down the hallway toward them. Lloyd let out a deep sigh. Fafnar was the last person he felt like dealing with right now.
Sir Fafnar Strakentir was a noble from the city of Dunwynn, far to the north. The knight had accompanied the Duke of Dunwynn to Ravenford, supposedly as the Duke’s right hand man. The pompous knight had proceeded to throw his weight around town, interfering with the companions’ efforts to protect the Baron and his family. Fafnar had even tried to get them banned from the keep. Luckily, that had not happened, or the consequences would have been disastrous.
Now the arrogant noble strode straight for them. He wore an insipid expression, his pencil-thin mustache and goatee making him look that much more absurd. Fafnar’s shoulder length brown hair flapped as he walked, keeping time with the clicking of his boot heels on the stone floor. His fancy blue doublet was stained with grass, but otherwise the noble appeared unscarred by battle. In fact, Lloyd didn’t remember seeing him on the field at all during the confrontation. That seemed rather surprising, considering how the man liked to brag about his fighting prowess. Lloyd had no time to contemplate the matter further as Fafnar stopped right in front of them. With a low bow, the foppish noble spoke in a fawning tone.
“Excuse me, ladies. I am glad to see that neither of you were hurt in that little fiasco.” His eyes fell on Lloyd as he uttered that last word.
Lloyd refused to let this pompous fool get under his skin again, especially in front of Andrella and her mother. He kept his emotions in check, glaring silently back at the arrogant noble. The Lady Gracelynn also remained quiet, diligently concentrating on her work. Andrella, on the other hand, chose to reply, her response equally lofty.