Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  “How long do we have before your spell wears off?” I asked Jaramel.

  “Until first light at least,” came the reply.

  “Good, we have until then before the creature sees us for what we really are. Until that time it will still look upon us as friends.”

  “Even though we tied it up?” asked Baram. I looked to Jaramel for some confirmation of this, and he nodded his head respectively.

  “Yes,” I replied “I don’t believe the creature will alert the others to our presence, not directly at least. So we must accomplish our task tonight and swiftly,” I looked to the darkening sky above us, the night was only an hour away.

  “As soon as it gets dark, I shall enter the camp and try to take the Crystal unseen.” This immediately met ill favour with Baram.

  “Why bother with that!” he said disapprovingly “When all we have to do is wait until they’re all asleep, then charge in on our horses and take the crystal by force. Why we could be out again before any of them realised what was happening. I mean…look at the size of them.” Baram looked to both Jaramel and myself awaiting a response. With caution being one of my stronger traits, I was not about to ignore it now, but by way of Baram’s appearance, I knew that the big man had spoken sincerely about his suggestion, be it a foolish one. I gave careful consideration to my words before replying.

  “Baram my friend, I too have considered that option, and I’m sure your axe would cut a path wide enough for even a merchant caravan to pass through.”

  “Damn right,” agreed Baram, just a little more fired up than his usual self.

  “But I do have concerns as well,” I continued, “we don’t even know if these creatures actually do sleep, and did you notice that practically every one of them held a spear. Ok, their weapons weren’t formidable in their appearance, but each one of them was still larger than any arrow I have seen, I was also willing to bet that they knew how to use them.”

  Baram seemed to let go of some of his former fire as his demeanour relaxed ever so slightly.

  I moved out of Jaramel’s earshot and placed my hand comfortingly upon his shoulder.

  “And then are you forgetting Sir Galforth,” I whispered, “the King’s finest,” Baram’s eyes met mine as he looked up from his bearded face, “I’m sure he was not expecting to be ending his days at the point of a stake,” I added sincerely.

  Baram nodded solemnly “I suppose you’re right, it’s just…” the weaponsmith lowered his eyes to the earth before looking up again, “it’s just that the longer we are out here…the longer Kendra…I mean…Ranak-Lore…” I nodded in understanding at my friend’s unspoken words.

  “I understand,” I replied, “Let’s at least try it my way first, and if that should fail, then we shall try it your way…. what do you say?”

  Baram agreed with a nod.

  “Mr Stein,” Jaramel called from where he waited by our horses. Baram nodded once more, and I left him to go over to the mage.

  “Mr Stein, I believe the demons we have encountered to be a lower species of sub-demon, a sort of half-breed. As we know their hearing appears to be impaired, but their eyes should improve in the darkness. You are going to need my help if you are going to succeed in your mission.”

  “What would you suggest?” I asked guardedly, just a little anxious about what the apprentice had in mind.

  Jaramel then proceeded to loosen the pouch-laden belt about his waist, before pulling his entire cloak free over his head.

  Before us now stood Jaramel the boy, even Baram had taken a few steps closer to better his view. Standing in riding boots, and dressed in dark cloth covered trousers, we were now seeing more of Jaramel than we had ever done before. Over his upper body, he wore a simple grey shirt, which was overlaid with a padded waistcoat of brown leather. This looked to offer some protection from the cold, and probably a little more from blades. His frame was just as I expected, weak and scrawny looking, thin arms poked through the sleeves of his shirt like broomsticks, and his back looked as if it could snap in the breeze. His face as ever was paler than pale, but he still had managed to keep his wispy brown hair neatly arranged on his head. He was obviously experiencing a lot of discomfort over silent observations.

  “Your robe?” I questioned after my initial surprise, “Jaramel cast a sideways glance to Baram who was still gawping with his mouth open.

  “It’s not just any cloak,” said Jaramel a little annoyed. He gave another look to Baram who then coughed before turning away to tend Anvil. Not that there was anything to tend to, “it’s a gift from master Luka,” continued Jaramel, “It has been imbued with the power of shadows. You may have seen me using its magic on several occasions.”

  “Indeed,” I said whilst eagerly taking the simple looking brown cloak from mage’s hands.

  “It is, of course a loan,” Jaramel added quickly.

  I feigned a hurtful look, “Of course,” I replied whilst throwing the cloak willingly over my head, “Now how do I …invoke it,” I asked.

  “It helps if you raise the hood,” said Jaramel.

  “Ok, there!” a sniggering of laughter suspiciously emanated from Baram’s direction. I ignored the weaponsmith as Jaramel placed his outstretched hand upon the cloak. A second later and I thought that it had failed, as I felt no difference in my appearance, but when Baram walked over with the same expression he wore whenever he witnessed some of Jaramel’s Magic, I knew that it had not.

  “Amazing!” commented Baram whilst looking at me the same way he had at Jaramel not five minutes earlier.

  I looked down from the hood only to see a simple brown robe covering my body.

  “Has it worked?” I asked confused.

  “Has it!” stated Baram and waved a hand a short distance in front of me, “if you had not spoken, I wouldn’t have known that you were still in there.”

  I looked at my hands from within the robe. They were the same hands I had always seen. I looked at my boots on my feet and saw them as clear as day. I suddenly began to feel a little foolish.

  “The magic works from the eye of the beholder,” said Jaramel back to his normal tones, “ to see the magic working you have to be on the other side of the cloak.”

  “So I’m now wrapped in shadows?” I asked again not entirely convinced.

  Baram slowly nodded his head whilst continuing to grab at the thin air in front of me.

  “So how do you know when the magic is working?” I asked Jaramel.

  “I can sense it,” he replied. “I can also intensify its effectiveness if needed, but of course I need to be the one wearing at the time to do this.”

  “So how do I know when the magic is working for me?” I asked again.

  “You do not,” came the mage’s reply as he once again outstretched his hand to touch the cloak.

  Baram took a step back at my apparent reappearance. It suddenly felt like one huge jest that the two of them had concocted between themselves.

  “I can infuse the magic within the cloak for about one hour,” continued Jaramel, “that should provide you with sufficient time.”

  “Ample,” I added feeling a little let down, “just don’t let me go in there wearing a simple brown cloak!”

  When darkness took hold, we returned to the crater’s rim. Baram began lowering a rope onto the smooth surface of the crater’s inner wall, a small distance away from the Chieftain’s hut, whilst Jaramel stood before me and once again outstretched his hand to touch the cloak that I wore. Adjusting the straps on my buckler shield for the last time, I prepared for my descent. I was initially concerned that my metallic buckler would draw too much attention to myself, but Jaramel had assured me that the shadow magic would also conceal any items that I might be carrying.

  “So this thing is working, right?” I said sceptically to the mage.

  Jaramel nodded. “Just remember not to let any part of your body come into contact with the Crystal.”

  I smiled at the warning but doubted if Jaramel was awar
e of it. “After seeing what it did to its last victim, I shall try and bear that in mind,” I replied.

  Moving to Baram, I grabbed hold of the rope that was secured firmly around the big man’s waist, whilst Jaramel used his eyes to scan the encampment below us. Then, turning my back to the crater, I grabbed hold of the rope and moved carefully to the crater’s rim.

  “Taragon,” Baram spoke my name as if he was not sure whether it was me or not.

  “What is it,” I whispered.

  “May the luck of Kanthar go with you,” he said sincerely.

  “Thank you my friend,” I returned.

  I looked across to Jaramel who gave me the signal to drop. Without another moment’s hesitation, and with Baram’s help, I gently lowered myself into the demons’ encampment. Being no stranger to the use of ropes, it was but a moment until I felt the earth beneath my feet again. I quickly sprang for the safety of nearby shadows as my life line disappeared behind me.

  Our plan had been an uncomplicated one. Jaramel would use his eyes to scan the encampment and spot for danger, whilst Baram would use his strength to raise and lower me from the unscaleable side of the crater’s ridge. All that was left for me to do was sneak unseen into a demons’ village, steal an artefact of incredible evil, and escape hordes of the imps preferably without any spears tips protruding from any part of my body. Simple!

  My thoughts were now focused, my senses strained to their limits. It was time to do what I did best. It was time to go to work…

  Around the demon, encampment were several burning braziers shedding light where there would have otherwise been none. After building a mental picture of their locations, I moved silently to the nearest hut and hugged its outside edge. I checked my route before proceeding again, making sure that it did not venture too close to any of the revealing glows that was offered by the braziers. Since most of the fires were centrally located, my plan was to move around the edge of the village. Springing silently forwards I once again passed effortlessly from one hut to another, I had managed to pass three of the dwellings before I spotted the first of the creatures. Crouching low to hide my mass, I watched and waited as the black skinned demon who stood not more than ten paces away from me, stretched and yawned in the cool night air before walking off in the opposite direction.

  Free to move again, I made a silent dash towards the next hut and crouched low once more, this time to gather my bearings.

  I was now only one building away from the Chieftain’s hut which could easily be seen beyond the next dwelling. After that, it would be the simple matter of dashing across the small open area where the demons had previously gathered before reaching my goal!

  I looked about me. Even though I would have preferred the night to have been a little darker than it actually was, I still had to check over every location twice, just in case one of the little creatures would be standing there perfectly blended in with the night-time gloom. I saw nothing but the stillness and calm of the night in front of me...just the way I liked it.

  The overall success of missions such as these usually depended upon two main factors. First stealth, if you were never seen or heard, you were never caught. The second was speed. Generally the longer you stayed in a hostile place; the more likely it was that you would be discovered, especially now that there were a hundred pairs of eyes to my one.

  This had been a worrying concern of mine originally, but with the oncoming of the night, the demons had forsaken the cool night air for the warmth of their individual dwellings. It seemed that our little foes disliked the cold more than us. It also became apparent with the general noises I had heard coming from the huts, that there were more than one of the creatures to each of the dwellings. Perfect for them, perfect for me, “not too dissimilar from Vingard,” I told myself, “except this time it was without the fear of Olaf.”

  It was then that I had an idea. If I crouched low enough to enable me to see under the dwellings, I would be able to spot if the way was clear or not before attempting to move again.

  Lowering my head to the ground I peered cautiously out from my hiding place, and immediately discovered to my horror a pair of skinny black legs about to turn the corner of the very same hut that I hid behind! The creature’s footfalls had been so quiet that I had not heard its approach. I was now just mere seconds away from being discovered!

  With no time to call my own, I took the only option that was left to me. Lying flat to the earth, I quickly squeezed as much as I could of myself into the gloomy space between the hut and the earth just as the creature rounded the corner. This was it, I was sure to be discovered. I had half a leg and one elbow still sticking out in the open, and to make matters worse, I had a shiny metallic buckler strapped to the arm which was protruding!

  If only I had not listened to Jaramel and worn this blasted robe I would not have been in this mess. If I were wearing just my regular black armour then at least I would have had half a chance, and I certainly would not have brought my buckler along with me either. I looked at the offending object upon my arm. Its surface glowed in the moonlight as if it were deliberately catching every inch of available light to shine with more intensity. I was practically advertising my existence.

  I looked out from the shadows. The creature had stopped five paces away and was in the process of pouring a foul smelling liquid onto the ground from a container which resembled a chamber pot. As soon as it turned again, I would be spotted.

  The demon turned… I was just about ready to rush from the gap and do what I could to stop the thing from raising the alarm, when, to my utter amazement, it continued right past and disappeared from view!

  By the Gods! I was actually starting to believe that I was invisible. Squeezing back out of the gap I stood and looked down at myself one last time. I still saw nothing except Jaramel’s simple brown travelling robe and a shining metallic buckler shield.

  “Magic,” I thought, “I don’t think I will ever get used to it.”

  Wasting no more of my time, I moved swiftly on to the next hut and peered out across the small expanse of land towards the Chieftain’s residence.

  “Damn! A guard!” One of the guards that had stood there earlier remained in place. The spear-carrying demon looked totally disgruntled as it stood just to the right of the hut’s entrance, doing the best to warm itself against the chill of the night, near to one of the fiery braziers. I looked at my options. I did have one thing going for me. If I could somehow manage to get across this small area without being seen, I could then go around the back of the hut and approach the guard from behind. I already knew their hearing was not the best. But how to distract its attention long enough to put my plan into action? I’m sure even the demon would find it strange to have a running shadow suddenly pass before its eyes. I looked to the ground and quickly found what I was looking for. Taking the small pebble in hand, I aimed my throw to land somewhere to the left of the creature. It was an old trick to be sure, but it generally worked on the weak-minded.

  Letting loose my stone, I waited as it landed satisfyingly to the left of the guard with a dull but audible clonk. To my surprise the demon hardly moved a muscle and stood as still has it had done a moment before. Unbelievable! Just how deaf were these things anyway? Taking another stone in hand, I let my second volley, this time I aimed for a little closer to where it was standing. Again my stone landed making a noise, but it was much louder this time, and surprised even me! I pushed myself closer to the side of the hut and watched with a wary eye as the demon guard stood bolt upright, grabbed his spear firmly, and stared into the inky blackness of the night. Success! Without hesitation, and whilst keeping an eye on the distracted guard, I made a bolt across the open ground whilst running on the balls of my feet to quiet my passing, although I do not know why I bothered, as I could have probably covered the distance whilst banging my sword upon my shield and singing a song, and it probably still would not have heard me!

  Upon reaching the side of the Chieftain’s hut, I breathe
d a sigh of relief. Slowly drawing my sword from its scabbard, I started to edge my way silently around the curvature of the dwelling. As I rounded its bend, I saw the guard had once again returned to his normal position… just as I anticipated. With my sword held firmly in hand, I crept cautiously forwards, taking each step as carefully as the last I locked my gaze purposefully upon my unsuspecting quarry.

  The demon knew nothing of its final moments.

  A few blood-soaked gurgles were all that it managed as slid my blade across its exposed throat.

  As I dragged the body back into the darkness, I instantly felt remorse for the tiny creature’s demise. It’s true that I have dealt death to man and beast alike on many different occasions, but only as a last resort, and only when those were trying to deal me the same hand. I was no assassin. Nor did I like playing the part, but there was far too much at stake on this mission to let one of the creatures stand in my way. Ranak-Lore for certain, perhaps even the whole of the south, and that was without even considering my five hundred gold!

  I wiped the blood from my weapon and moved quickly to the hut’s entrance. Now to get the Crystal before any of the demon villagers noticed that their guard was absent.

  Throwing back the hide-covered entrance, I walked into the large dwelling and was instantly greeted by a blast of warm air that emanated from a dying fire-pit in the room’s centre. Letting the hide coverings fall behind me, my eyes quickly searched the dimly lit interior for any signs of life. This task was not made any easier by the multitude of dancing shadows that flickered about the room in a confusing array. The dim light made me wary until I was sure that I was alone in the chamber. The first thing I noticed was that the circular area I was in was curtained off at one end with many more animal hides. They had been joined together to form a curtain that hung from ceiling to floor, and annoyingly obscured my view to whatever lay beyond. This section of the room contained little. Above the fire-pit was an empty spit, and around it was placed a circle of large flat stones, six in all. There was also a pile of miniature spears stacked near the door, and several large clay vases were lined in a row not far from the fire. But the most worrying feature of the room adorned the rear wall. Fixed along its entire length was a grizzly display of death in the form of bone white skulls of varying descriptions. I counted Wolvern, Were-cat, Razorbear and even Liskard among the gruesome collection, several I did not know, but then my eyes fell upon one that I did…human.