The Ruins on Stone Hill (Heroes of Ravenford Book 1)

by F. P. Spirit

  Aksel also scanned the area, mirroring Glo’s thoughts. “Do you see the mage?”

  “A little busy here,” came Elladan’s answer as he continued to grapple with the horses.

  “No,” Glo responded, still gazing all around. Where is he? What am I missing? As if in answer to his silent question, a memory flooded to the forefront of his mind.

  “You are thinking too small, Glolindir,” Amrod chastised him. “A powerful enough wizard can attack from any direction—above or below.” Glo’s eyes went wide. How could he be so stupid? He immediately shifted his gaze upwards, scanning the heavens. It was not a moment too soon. A sudden red flash in the dark sky above sent a cold chill up his spine.

  “Out of the wagon!” he screamed, thinking it already too late. Glo only vaguely remembered what happened next. One moment they were in the wagon, the next they were in a heap a couple of yards away.

  Baroom! There was a sudden flash of light, and a rush of heat passed over their bodies. Glo lifted himself up and spun around. The wagon was in flames. The horses were yards away, bolting for the forest. Miraculously, he and his friends were unscathed. Somehow they had been spared.

  “What was that?” Elladan exclaimed.

  “Fireball.” Glo scanned the sky once more.

  Elladan let out a low whistle. “How in the heck are we still alive?”

  It was Aksel that answered, “I think it hit in the wagon bed. The wagon took the brunt of the explosion.”

  Elladan followed Glo’s gaze. “It came from up there?”

  “Yes.” Glo nudged his head in the direction he was looking. He focused on the portion of the sky where he had seen the first flash. He could just barely make out a darker area hovering against the star studded backdrop. Glo began an incantation; he lifted his fingers into the air and pointed at the dark spot. “Radius Ardens.”

  A red hot ray of light leapt from his fingertips and raced upward, streaking across the star strewn sky. Just as it was about to hit, the ray flickered and faded out of existence.

  “Dragon dung,” Glo swore. “He’s out of range.”

  Elladan reached inside his vest and pulled out a short wooden wand. “Maybe this will work.” The bard pointed the tip of the wand up toward that same dark patch in the sky. “Nullam Telum.”

  A purple projectile leapt from the tip and rocketed upward. It lanced through the night, swiftly closing on its target. About a yard away from the dark form, the missile abruptly exploded. An evil laugh floated down from the sky above.

  “Son of a hellhound,” Elladan swore. “He must be shielded.”

  Elladan was right. A shield spell would have the effect they saw. It put an invisible barrier around the caster that would block projectiles such as missiles or arrows. This mage was experienced and clever. They were in a lot of trouble.

  Aksel must have had the same thought. “Um, guys, maybe we should look for cover.” He nudged his head toward a rocky outcropping not five feet behind them. The little cleric had not spoken a moment too soon. There was another red flash in the sky where the dark mage hovered.

  “Look out!” Glo cried.

  The three of them scrambled for the rocks, Glo and Elladan grabbing onto Aksel from either side. The trio vaulted over the top of the outcropping, barely hitting the ground before the night lit up behind them.

  Baroom! Another rush of heat passed over them, but this time the rocky wall spared them from being burned. Glo, Aksel and Elladan slowly rose and dusted themselves off.

  Elladan’s tone was filled with irony. “So what do we do now? We can’t reach him, but he sure can reach us.”

  Glo exchanged glances with Aksel, but the little cleric just shook his head.

  The elven wizard was just as stumped as his friends. He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Seth had watched silently from the trees as the warriors and the archer moved out. The black-robed figure was left alone. It disappeared into one of the wagons, emerging a few moments later with a red garment. The figure flung the cloth over its shoulders, then waved its arms around as if casting spells on itself. When it was done, the figure grasped the edge of its cloak and launched into the air, disappearing into the blackness of the sky.

  Interesting, a flying cloak. That must come in handy.

  The halfling carefully scanned the camp below. Once certain that everyone was gone, he wrapped his cloak around himself and became invisible. Seth cautiously climbed down and circled around through the woods until he was behind Brundon. He silently crept up to the tracker and whispered, “Don’t move.”

  Without turning, Brundon whispered, “Took you long enough.”

  Seth snorted as he pulled out a knife. “Well, at least I didn’t get caught by an earth element.”

  “Touché,” Brundon said.

  Seth cut through the ropes binding his wrists.

  “That was rather stupid of me.” Brundon rubbed his wrists where they had been bound. “Hopefully I was able to buy our friends an advantage.”

  While Seth went to cut the ropes around his legs, Brundon explained how he had slipped misinformation to his captors. Seth had to stifle a laugh to avoid slicing the tracker. He stepped back and smirked.

  “Well played, Brundon. Well played.”

  Brundon leaned forward and rubbed his ankles where they had been bound. “Easy, Seth—that could be mistaken for a compliment.”

  The retort on Seth’s lips died as the sounds of battle reached his ears. He spun around but the hillock blocked his view of the clearing beyond. Brundon rose to his feet next to him.

  “Sounds like it’s begun.”

  A trail of flame crossed the night, lancing downward in the direction of the battle. Seth followed the trail backward, his keen eyes fixing on a small area devoid of stars just above the trees. He spoke to Brundon without taking his eyes off that spot. “I’ve got to go. You going to be okay here?”

  “Fine now,” Brundon replied. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw the tracker holding up his bow and quiver in one hand and short sword in the other.

  “Good,” Seth said with a quick nod. “I have a wizard to kill.” Without another word, he took off in the direction of that dark spot. Seth swiftly reached the trees and launched himself upward. As he climbed, another red streak crossed the sky, but this one shot up from the ground.

  That must be Glo’s fire beam spell. Unfortunately, the ray faded just before it reached its target. Still, it had lit up the section of sky Seth was focused on. It was only for a moment, but it was just enough for him to see a clear outline of the black mage. A grim smile crossed Seth’s face as he continued to climb. He had nearly reached the top of the tree, when a purple projectile came whizzing through the air. It homed in on the mage and appeared as if it were going to hit, but exploded about a yard too short. The detonation was followed by an evil laugh. Seth kept his eyes locked on the dark form as he pulled out his venom knife. It was hard to focus in the inky blackness, but he didn’t have much choice. Seth was just about to let loose his dagger when a red glow appeared next to the figure.

  He’s casting another spell. A wicked smile spread across the halfling’s face. As the red light coalesced into a ball of fire, the mage’s silhouette was perfectly outlined.

  Gotcha! Seth adjusted his aim as the small red ball sped away. In one swift motion, he let loose his dagger, sending the knife straight toward its unsuspecting target. A high-pitched scream erupted from the direction of the dark spot—the dagger had found its target.

  “Venenum, scumbag,” Seth said with satisfaction.

  Lloyd and the half-orc warrior were locked in combat. Blades flashed swiftly in the moonlight as the fierce battle weaved back and forth. Each strove to gain an advantage, but neither was able to land a blow. Every advance he made, she countered,
and every attack she made, he blocked. The half-orc abruptly halted, her chest heaving as she paused to catch her breath.

  “It’s been awhile since…I’ve had such…a skilled opponent.”

  Lloyd’s own breath was ragged. He managed a smile. “I could say…the same.”

  She grinned in turn. “Too bad…only one of us…will walk away from this.”

  The two warriors slowly circled each other, their long shadows crossing in the pale light of the moon. They kept their eyes firmly fixed on one another as the sounds of battle raged around them. Half-orcs were known for their stamina. Lloyd had kept up with this warrior till now, but he was tiring. One slip could bring his downfall. He had to do something soon or the outcome of this battle was inevitable.

  His best bet was to use a spiritblade technique, but he was facing a seasoned warrior. With her quick reflexes and battle expertise, there was no guarantee a technique would work. Perhaps if he drew her off-guard first…

  A desperate plan flashed through his mind. Lloyd steeled himself, then abruptly launched into his opponent. He struck with a typical two-weapon combo to lull her into a false sense of security. The half-orc smirked as she parried each of his swings. At the last clash of steel, Lloyd began his technique. Time slowed for him as it always did, dragging out those few moments when he would be most vulnerable.

  The half-orc mistook his hesitation for fatigue. She let loose a triumphant battle cry as her blade rushed toward Lloyd’s unprotected neck. The keen edge of her sword glimmered in the moonlight as it closed in on him, but Lloyd’s mind was elsewhere. It dug deep into his innermost being, searching for that spark of spirit.

  The blade was mere inches from his neck when he finally made that connection. The world suddenly blurred around him, then came back into focus. The half-orc warrior was now behind him. Lloyd reacted swiftly—he whirled around, bringing his right blade with him in a tight arc.

  His opponent stood flat-footed. She had put too much weight into that killer blow, and his sudden disappearance had pulled her off-balance. His blade caught her in the side, slicing through the thick leather armor and sinking deep into the flesh underneath.

  The warrior screamed in agony, trying desperately to whirl out of the way. She was not quite fast enough; the tip of Lloyd’s other blade slashed across her exposed torso. With his opponent injured, Lloyd pressed his deadly assault. She managed to parry his next two blows, but she was definitely moving slower.

  The warrior cried out in rage and frustration, “How did you get behind me?”

  Lloyd did not answer but instead pressed his advantage. He launched another deadly assault, his blades flicking and arcing in a dance of whirling steel. He ripped through her defenses, inflicting new wounds on top of the old. The half-orc was now bleeding profusely, dazed and sweaty from exertion and the loss of blood.

  Lloyd sprang forward once more, slicing away at his opponent, but on the last swing, feinted and thrust instead. His blade went past her guard and slid into her chest. Her eyes locked on his, a stunned expression on her face. Lloyd paused for only a moment, then drew back and fell into a defensive position. His opponent did not move. She stood frozen in place, glaring at him as ragged breathes escaped her throat. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “I still don’t know…how you got…behind me…”

  The grip on her weapons loosened as they tumbled out of her hands. The warrior’s body teetered a moment, then collapsed onto the ground. Lloyd stood there silently, his chest heaving as he watched his valiant opponent draw her last breath.

  Titan was angry—mad at Brundon for getting himself caught, but even angrier at herself for letting him go off on his own. She had a bad feeling about it from the start and should have said something. Brundon was so infuriating though, with his devil-may-care attitude and insinuations about her feelings for him that she merely sniped at him in return.

  Now the idiot was in peril and she could do little about it. She was in the midst of battle with a pair of warriors, and despite her best efforts, the duo had flanked her. These two were quite skilled, coordinating their attacks so as to keep her constantly on the defensive. It was a tactic she knew well—wear your opponent down until they made a mistake. Luckily, she also knew how to defend against it.

  Titan’s father was an excellent swordsman—one of the best in Ravenford. He had run Titan and her brothers through hours of drills, preparing them to be the town guards. Although Titan had chosen not to join the guards, she had always bested her brothers—even with both of them pitted against her. Her superior size and strength helped, but it was her keen mind that allowed her to prevail. She soaked up her father’s lessons on tactics like a sponge.

  Titan now put that knowledge to use. She subtly shifted her stance between attacks, inexorably drawing her opponents into a rhythm. It took careful timing and patience, but once she had them in a predictable pattern, the tall warrior struck.

  She caught the first warrior in mid-attack, lashing out hard with her shield. Her preemptive strike was met with the sound of snapping bone. The man cried out in pain and staggered backward, his sword dropping from his hand.

  Titan was tempted to finish him off right, but was too experienced to make that mistake. She immediately spun around and parried the blade bearing down on her back. She followed with a full out assault on the second warrior. She bore down on him, using her superior strength and height to her advantage. She hammered away at him, driving him back until he lost his footing and fell to the ground. The man went sprawling, stunned and completely at her mercy as he lay there.

  She could have slew him right then, but her eyes had been off the second warrior too long. A furtive glance over her shoulder confirmed her peril; the warrior bore down on her, sword poised for a strike in his left hand.

  Titan dropped her shield and grasped the hilt of her sword in both hands. Turning slightly, she stabbed backwards swiftly and viciously, the blade catching her attacker in the abdomen. The warrior’s eyes rolled back in his head. A gasp left his body and the sword fell away. He shuddered once, then went limp.

  Titan immediately withdrew her sword and faced her second attacker. He was just scrambling to his feet. Not waiting to retrieve her shield, she launched into him once more. He moved slower now, perhaps still slightly dazed from his fall. Titan drove on mercilessly, her blade flicking around more like a fencer now.

  Her opponent slowly retreated until he faltered once again. Titan lunged forward, the tip of her blade sliding past his guard and skewering him neatly through the upper torso. The warrior let out a short cry, then collapsed to the ground in a heap.

  Titan swiftly surveyed the battlefield. Loud booms resounded from the stone golem and the earth elemental as they continued to beat on each other with those huge fists. A fiery ray shot across the sky above her, ending somewhere above the trees ahead. A reddish ball flew back in the other direction in response.

  Wizard’s battle, she thought wryly. Nothing I can do about that.

  Her eyes then fell on Lloyd and his opponent. The duo circled each other cautiously. Titan went to pick up her shield. Now there was somewhere she could lend a hand. She sprang forward at the same moment Lloyd launched into his adversary. She swiftly closed the gap but was still too far away when Lloyd faltered.

  Titan’s heart leapt into her throat as that blade bore down on his exposed neck. Suddenly, Lloyd was gone. His body shimmered out of existence and reappeared a moment later behind his opponent. Titan stopped in her tracks and watched in awe as he assailed his adversary from behind. The other warrior had no chance now. Lloyd had connected with a vicious swipe followed by a furious onslaught of flashing blades. It was over in less than a minute.

  Titan slowly shook her head. Those spiritblade techniques were extraordinary. There was no way she could compete with something like that. Something clicked in her mind at that moment�
�a decision she had been putting off for a couple of years now. It was time to step up her game.

  A sudden cry in the night interrupted her musings. It came from above the trees.

  The Serpent Cult

  They practice a dark magic

  Glolindir, Aksel and Elladan huddled together behind the rocky outcropping. The trio wracked their brains as the sounds of battle raged around them. Elladan urged them to hurry. “If we don’t do something quick, that black mage is going to start taking pot shots at the others.”

  Before either Glo or Aksel could respond a cry pierced the night. “Ahhhhhhhh!”

  A chill went up Glo’s spine. He scrambled up the rocks and peered across the clearing. Thankfully, Lloyd and Titan appeared okay. Their opponents lay on the ground around them.

  “Look!” Aksel cried. He pointed in the direction of the camp. A dark figure floated below the tree line, clearly silhouetted by the campfire’s glow. Yet there was something strange about it—it wobbled around erratically.

  “He don’t look so good,” Elladan observed.

  Glo wasn’t sure what had happened, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Well he’s in my range now. Let’s see if we can add to his discomfort.”

  Glo pointed at the flailing figure and repeated the words, “Radius Ardens.” A red beam of light leapt from his fingertips and raced across the clearing. This time it did not fade. It hit its mark with a satisfying flare, causing small trails of flame to sprout around the bobbing mage.