by F. P. Spirit
The Heroes of
Ravenford
Book 1
Ruins on
Stone Hill
F.P. Spirit
Revised Edition
Copyright @ 2016 F. P. Spirit
Cover Art by Jackson Tjota
Cover Design and Interior Formatting by S Professional Designs
Edited by Sandra Nguyen
ISBN-10: 0-9984715-0-X
ISBN-13: 978-0-9984715-0-1
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
Eastern Thac as depicted at the Great Library of Palt on the Isle of Lanfor. Though there are still ancient copies on parchment, this visual representation of the map is magically maintained by the librarians there. This is evidenced by the addition of recent towns such as Ravenford and Vermoorden. However, it should be noted that landmarks such as Cairthrellon are still represented here, even though the great elven city “disappeared” over 500 years.
- Lady Lara Stealle, High Wizard of Penwick
Table Of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Titles in Series
Map of Thac
The Red Warrior
A Strange Alliance
The Road to Ravenford
The Charging Minotaur
Maltar
Into the Dead Forest
Bugbears
Stone Hill
Inside the Ruins
Through a Mirror Darkly
In the Dungeon
Necromancers
Unexpected Reunion
Stone Golem
The Ancient Scroll
Wizards’ Duel
Ravenford Keep
The Truth about Lloyd
Troubled Hearts
Back to the Bendenwoods
Orc Ambush
The Cave Guardian
The Elven Bard
Down the Well
Captive Audience
Lost in the Caves
Bringing Down the House
Celebration
The Enchanted Hammer
Giant
Return to the Ruins
A Cry in the Night
Battle in the Dead Forest
The Serpent Cult
Books by F.P Spirit
About Author
The Red Warrior
Speed and silence, deadly both
The aged ash trees reached toward the sky. Glimpses of deep blue peeked through the treetops, the light of the afternoon sun barely penetrating the dense forest foliage. The fresh scent of the surrounding trees and bushes, mixed in with the earthy aroma of grass, wafted on the cool crisp air. A trace of dust lingered, churned up by the wheels of the wagons that had traveled the well-worn dirt road, cutting a path through the looming forest.
Other odors also rose from the earth: the musky, warm smell of horses, the heady memory of wine, some pungent herbs, and dried hay. These scents were attached to a group of travelers. Horses pulled wagons filled with boxes, barrels of goods, and beverages that the caravan owners were carting to their destination. The wagon floors were lined with hay in a vain attempt to make passengers more comfortable.
The clip-clop of horse hooves, the squeaking of turning wheels, and the creaking of wagons announced the caravan’s presence along the dirt road. Bright-voiced birds and rustling leaves accompanied its passage through the forest.
Glolindir sat in one of those wagons on a pile of hay—his back propped against a box of goods with his cloak thrown over it in an attempt to make the seat more comfortable. Being an elf, Glo did not look much different from a human. Standing at about six feet tall with flaxen hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, he was perhaps a bit thinner than most humans, but the only trait that gave away his heritage was his pointed ears.
Glolindir had been lulled into a half-trance by the rocking motion of the wagon, and the soft sounds of the forest. The young elf was quite content, until he realized that something was different. There was a subtle change in their surroundings, but he could not quite tell what it was. He opened his eyes and gazed around, straining his senses.
His friend, Aksel, was doing the same. A few minutes ago, the gnome had been lounging across from him on a second pile of hay. Now Aksel was standing up, his three-foot frame tensing as he listened with his own pointed ears.
They were both transfixed, trying to place what was amiss. Aksel gazed at him. Glo shook his head at the silent question that passed between them. They were missing something obvious, something that was just at the edge of their awareness. Both friends turned to gaze at Seth.
The halfling sat in the front of the wagon next to the driver. His small frame, just barely shorter than Aksel’s, was dwarfed next to him. Seth’s head was slightly cocked as if also listening.
Listening. That was it! There weren’t any forest sounds. The birds had stopped chirping their songs, and even the rustling of leaves had died down. Glo continued to strain his ears, but the surrounding woods remained quiet. He opened his mouth to say something when a strange sensation washed over him. It hit him like a crashing wave, making every nerve taut. His heart raced, sweat gathered across his brow, and he felt a bit light-headed.
Aksel must have noticed his sudden change in condition. “Are you alright?”
Glo ignored the gnome, his eyes darting from side to side. He searched for any sign of danger, yet saw nothing to warrant such an intense reaction. What is causing this sense of dread? It suddenly dawned on him—it was his familiar, Raven. He was linked empathically to the tiny magical beast, and these feelings of fear were coming from her!
Glo stood up and poked his head out of the wagon, looking up into the trees. Where is she? He scanned all around, his heart still pounding. There she is. He spotted her up the road ahead of them, winging her way back in a state of utter panic.
Aksel’s head suddenly appeared next to him. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Raven. Something has her really spooked—something on the trail ahead.”
Aksel raised an eyebrow. Seth’s eyes narrowed. Even the wiry old wagon driver knew something was wrong. He glanced over at Glo and said, “Son, you don’t look so good.”
Glo steadied himself. “I’ll be fine.”
They scanned the woods ahead, three pairs of keen eyes scrutinizing either side of the trail.
“Over there!” Seth pointed up ahead off the trail to the left.
Glo focused in on the spot, but at first saw nothing. Abruptly something moved. It looked like the top of a bow. Glo strained his eyes, trying to get a better look. Is that an arm? Yes, he saw an arm—a bare green arm. It was sticking out from behind a bush a
nd holding a drawn bow with a nocked arrow. As he continued to watch, a gust of wind briefly blew the bush aside. For just an instant, he got a look at a face.
It was not quite human, but brutish, almost monkey-like with green skin and two short tusks protruding from the lower jaw. Glo was momentarily startled. He’d seen such a creature before, but only in books back home. That’s an orc! A wave of nervousness passed through his body. Orcs were nasty creatures—carnivorous humanoids who did not mind feeding on the flesh of people. They were all in grave danger.
Aksel and Seth must have seen it as well. Aksel let out a soft gasp, and Seth’s eyes went dark, a twisted smile crossing his face. Glo pushed down his rattled nerves, and took a deep breath.
“Orc!”
His voice startled the driver, and the man nearly fell out of his seat and off the wagon. He recovered and pulled hard on the reins, bringing the wagon to a complete halt. The driver then turned, dove into the wagon, and crawled back behind the barrels and boxes.
The reaction had caught Glo by surprise. He tore his eyes away and peered out ahead of them. The other wagons had also stopped.
Aksel distracted him yet again. “Where did Seth go?”
In all the commotion, Seth had disappeared. Glo scanned the area, his heart pounding in a frantic rhythm. He finally caught sight of Seth stealthily crawling under the stopped wagon in front of them. He was about to cry out to him, when a whizzing noise came out of the forest. Glo instinctively ducked down into the wagon, Aksel beside him. A split second later, two arrows embedded themselves into the seat above. Both elf and gnome flinched at the sight.
Glo swallowed hard. “I think he’s headed toward the front of the caravan!”
Aksel merely shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Glo silently hoped that Seth knew what he was doing.
Aksel mirrored his thoughts. “I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”
“He was well-hidden beneath the wagons.” Though he tried to sound comforting, Glo was equally worried about their friend. In fact, he was concerned about all of them. Orcs were not creatures to be trifled with. This was a deadly situation—one they just might not survive.
Seth crawled under the two lead wagons. He stayed on his belly until he made it to the front of the caravan. Once there, he scanned the area. Up ahead he spotted the two sentries, who were supposed to protect the caravan, on the ground unmoving, with numerous arrows protruding from their backs. Seth did not blanch. He was used to death; he had experienced it up close more times than he cared to admit.
A brief image of his old master came unbidden to him. The halfling momentarily shuddered as he relived the moment his tutor died—disappearing in a conflagration of fire before his eyes. He could feel the heat as it wafted over him and he smelled the sick odor of burning flesh. Seth woke up many a night in a cold sweat after witnessing that same scene over again in his dreams.
The halfling shook himself. This was neither the time nor the place. Swallowing hard, he forced down the memories, allowing his training to kick in. Seth scanned the rest of the area around him, but there were no more bodies to be seen. The others must have heard Glo’s warning and ducked inside. Bowmen were now returning fire from the wagons, but it was not enough to keep their attackers at bay.
The orcs began to charge, green faces snarling, from the trees on either side of the road. A few of the vile creatures were felled by arrows, but two of them made it to the lead wagon and tried to climb aboard.
Seth stood up, a sharp dagger suddenly appearing in his hand. He barely slouched as he crossed under the wagon, till he stood face to kneecap with one of the orcs. The creature was so close that the fetid odor of unwashed flesh and filth filled his nostrils. Seth scrunched his nose in an effort to avoid the smell. Gods, don’t these things ever bathe?
The wagon tilted as the orc lifted one leg off the ground and began to hoist itself up the side. The screams of the people inside spurred Seth into action.
Speed and silence, deadly both. His master’s creed echoed in his thoughts as he rolled out from underneath the wagon and leapt up behind the vile, smelly brute. The bristly hair poked Seth’s skin through his black leathers as he grasped the oversized left ear of the orc, his hand slipping slightly from the greasy filth on the rough skin. With practiced ease he brought his dagger to the creature’s throat.
Once again, he heard his master’s voice: All things with heads, from animals to men, need blood to reach their brains. Open those channels and the life will pump out of any foe. Seth’s blade moved across the orc’s throat, quick and clean, cutting a deep gash clear across. The brutish fiend tried to reach back and grasp its attacker, not realizing that it was already as good as dead. Seth let go and dropped softly back down to the ground.
He immediately launched himself into a forward roll beneath the wagon, the body of the slain orc hitting the ground behind him with a loud thud. Seth caught a glimpse of a second orc on the other side of the wagon. He continued rolling until he came out behind it—his dagger in hand as he leapt at the monster. Seth grabbed on tight, and with a quick slash of his dagger dispatched the second creature.
A sudden premonition, perhaps from his years of training, made Seth flip off the orc’s back. A second later, a flurry of arrows buried themselves into the falling body. No honor among these creatures, Seth thought. He swiftly launched himself underneath the wagon again, then spun back around and gazed out from his hiding place. A group of orcs approached the wagon, bows nocked with arrows. The lead creature squinted with its glowing red eyes and pointed to the place where he had just disappeared.
Abruptly, the four lead orcs fell to the ground, their previously nocked arrows flying haphazardly in all directions. The three behind tripped over their companions and landed in a heap on top of them.
Seth darted out from under the wagon and chanced a quick look down the line of wagons. He saw Glolindir standing in their original wagon, his staff in his left hand and his right hand outstretched. Seth flashed the wizard a quick smile, and Glo winked back. Handy having a wizard around who can put enemies to sleep!
As the fallen orcs tried to get up, they were riddled with arrows from the wagons. Within seconds, all the vile creatures were lying on the ground in a heap of ugly flesh.
Seth ran out to the pile of enemies, making certain the top ones were dead. He then dispatched the remaining monsters before they woke up from their magically induced “nap.” All the while, he kept eyes and ears open for attackers, but no more emerged from the surrounding woods.
It looked as if they would make it out of this after all, when the underbrush parted up the side of the trail. A brute of an orc stalked out of the woods. It was huge, with massive shoulders and long, wicked tusks dripping with saliva. In its right hand, it held a curved sword easily twice the size of the little halfling. Glowing hate-filled eyes surveyed the caravan and the fallen bodies of its brethren.
Right, Seth thought. This monster was beyond anything they could handle. Still, he was not the type to give up. His mind raced, searching for some tactic to use against the beast.
The monster stared at the wagons for a moment, then lifted its head to the sky, letting forth a savage scream. The ferocity of it shook Seth to the bone. The creature then lowered its head, lifted its huge sword, and charged toward the wagons with a vicious growl.
Glolindir spotted the monstrous orc at the same time as Seth. The wizard waited till it charged, then lifted his arm and pointed a finger at it. As he did so, mana, the energy that flows in and around all things, gathered within him. He drew the energy inward with concentrated will and focused it with a gesture. All that was needed now was a verbal command to trigger it.
The orc had closed half the gap to the lead wagon when Glo spoke the words that released the spell, “Nullam Telum.” A projectile of arcane energy leapt from his finger and s
piraled out toward the charging creature. The purple missile met the beast in midstride and connected with an audible thud.
The monster appeared neither shaken, nor hurt. Instead it merely glanced down at its chest, reached up with its free hand, and touched the smoldering spot.
Glo’s eyes went wide. This huge orc was far tougher than he imagined—he had severely miscalculated. He watched in horror as the creature dropped its hand and turned its feral gaze toward him. An evil grin spread across the monster’s maw, then it charged.
Glo froze in place, unable to move a muscle. He had been so sure of himself. He had studied his spells and creatures and practiced his art tirelessly. Yet none of that had prepared him for this. Here was a real live monster bearing down on him, fully intent on ripping him limb from limb. It swiftly closed the gap between them and would be on him in seconds.
My father was right. He was woefully unprepared to cope with this. At that moment, he wished that he had listened to his father’s advice and stayed in the safety of their elven home.
Aksel climbed out of the wagon just in time to see the creature rushing toward them. “Well, that doesn’t look good.”
“Agreed,” Glo said through barely moving lips.
When Seth saw the monstrous orc charge his friends, he threw aside all reason. There was no way the two of them could handle that monster alone. He wasn’t sure if he would be much help, but he had to do something.
Seth took off at a dead run. The monster was moving quickly, but if he could intercept it he might be able to distract it away from his friends. Swiftly reaching the second wagon, he leapt up the side. Seth landed on the soft wagon top and raced across it, precariously balancing on the thin fabric. He stopped at the very edge, and was about to launch himself onto the beast’s back, when shouts came from the front of the caravan. Seth paused, chancing a quick look toward the lead wagon.