Wholly and nearby undetected, the young elf twins Dafina and Shalia from the Grelen Elf maze peered at the gathering of hounds and goblins in the darkness. They were undertaking their cleric training and possessed the rare ability of the ‘Shadow Tracker.’ They could shift their being into the shadow plane between the realms for a short period where time and space were slightly altered. Here they could witness many things until their concentration tired, and they were forced back into the visibility of the mortal realm. They could visualise a map of the land and places with black corridors in between that concealed their travel. They held on tightly to their short marble staffs, glowing blue with magic runes, and the source of their power. To their horror and grief, they witnessed the torture and killing of Pico. Shalia was most disturbed at this as she was fond of Pico, having been a trusted friend for years. However, the twins were powerless to do anything but observe as they had a great many more magic abilities to master before being awarded their title as clerics.
Brod’s mages were concerned. The glyphs on their faces glowed ever so slightly in the dark as Brod and the Wildpack Warlord conversed. They had sensed another of magic ability nearby but didn’t know where or who they were. Brod shrugged it off believing they sensed skyriders who were due from the Night Grove Witch Coven at any minute with final orders. However, the mages were not convinced and stayed close to Brod and his guards. The witches’ from the Night Grove Coven were miles away, for they had another task to attend to. They had assembled in the far west of Trunarth, and from the cover of the forest, they studied the mankind village of Brineburg with greedy eyes. Lady Ravyne decided that they had waited patiently enough for a century or two, and now it was time. The mankind population of Brineburg numbered close to 600 mortals and the witches’ pronounced that a soul reaping was due.
35.
THE ELWOODS
The ponies now relieved of their saddlebags huddled together in one large stall of the rickety stable. Two of them rolled on their backs trying to satisfy itches where sweatbands over their withers indicated long days spent under the saddle. The rest nibbled at the overgrown grass growing in through the edges of the stable walls. There were significant gaps in the sidewalls where planks and logs over time had fallen out and lay rotting about the ground nearby. The stall appeared secure enough though and would stop most of the rain blowing in, Ronald had assessed. He had one last look as he shut the low wooden stall door. The old iron bolt mechanism had fallen off and was lying in the grass, half-buried under the edge of a red ant mound. Ronald found a heavy little rock nearby and rolled it up against the door to keep it in place. He pulled his coat tighter around his neck and eagerly made his way to the front door of the Inn, where he could hear the muffled laughter of his comrades inside. The ponies looked around at the old straw that lay about on the ground. It had been there a long time with patches of green mould here and there. It looked comfortable enough, though, and at least it appeared dry. They watched young Ronald close the half-height wooden stall door and whistle to himself as he went towards the main building.
He got inside just in time to avoid the sudden downpour of rain. They saw an orange fire glow coming from within and heard mankind laughter as the front door briefly opened when Ronald slipped inside. It was night now and even darker than usual with the heavy black clouds passing sluggishly above. It was no surprise that the light drizzle was taken over by a more substantial fall of rain. The odd flash of lightning and distant rumble occurred more often now as an angry storm crept closer from the direction of the moors. The monotonous sound of water running down the sides of the stable walls and running in little rivulets across the ground outside was almost soothing. The ponies had just settled down sleepily when an uneasy feeling came over them all at once. What was that sound outside? It sounded like something sloshing through the muddy ground. They didn’t move but looked hard through the cracks in the walls at the falling rain outside made brighter every few seconds with the lightning flashes.
The strange smell again, then suddenly an overpowering stench of wet dog. The ponies had lived alongside dogs in the village all their lives, but this was a different stronger and raw wild smell. Another flash and several ponies jumped backwards in panic when they glimpsed several figures moving past the stable. The ponies remained silent with their ears pinned back. They saw at least eight figures skulking past the stable in the rain towards the big wooden building. Some walked upright on two legs while others walked on all fours. They were completely naked and hairy, with an elongated mankind shape body but with the head of a large dog. They moved silently and stopped not far from the front of the stable. Short hairy stiff tails moved about as they appeared to converse with one another through exchanges of low guttural sounds. One looked towards the ponies and indicated with an arm in their direction. The ponies immediately shrunk back to the shadow against the far wall of the stables. This strange group then split, with a few of them disappearing around the side towards the back of the wooden building and the rest cautiously entered onto the porch. These things then burst in through the front door with a crash. Loud yells and screams from inside quickly followed, accompanied by banging and crashing of a great commotion. This was too much for the ponies; they pawed, struck, and kicked at the stall door until it swung open.
One pony lost a shoe, caught on the edge of the door that pulled off his hoof to lie on the ground with several bent and twisted black nails sticking out of it. Into the wind and rain, they galloped, onto the road of Wandering Souls and south towards Saltwood as if these houndmen were upon their heels. The Deadbite Canines, cursed creations of mankind and hound species were not interested in the ponies for now; they would catch up to them later. They craved the blood of mankind. It was a driving desire to be mankind again, and they detested anything, not of their kind. That instinct, coupled with orders from a higher authority had led them to this place. They had watched these mankind animals for several days, and now it was time to strike.
Barney was aghast. Having not been accustomed to seeing monsters, particularly ones that were fighting his men was rather disturbing. He froze for several seconds, trying to comprehend the scene in front of him. Cedric and the other guard were backed into a corner of the room waving their short swords frantically at some things standing on two feet that were barking, snarling, biting and lunging at them. They were naked and covered in red and brown thick fur, stood the same height of a man, but had large canine heads with rows of teeth; they barked, growled and had fierce bloodshot yellow eyes focused on the men. Phylip, lying on his back on the ground near the front door, was in a semi-conscious state sobbing and staring at the ceiling. His short sword lay on the ground near his open hand, discarded and forgotten. Phylip had drunk more of the so-called Gooseberry wine than anyone else and was now suffering the effects.
Three of these houndmen, now howling in delight stooped down and picked up the limp Phylip awkwardly with paw-shaped hands and between them carried him out through the front of the Inn. The door was now hanging precariously on an angle with the top hinge broken off the wall frame. Other houndmen were still barking and snapping at Cedric and the other guard in the corner. Both men were now beginning to show signs of tiring and were increasingly sustaining scratches and cuts. They still managed, however, to keep these things at bay for now through a desperate flaying of steel.
Another houndman slightly larger than the rest stood near the counter with paws on hairy hips and howled in delight. With its tail waving about excitedly, it continually yelled at the others in a guttural broken barking language of sorts. It appeared to be giving commands and took no part as yet into the physical attack on the men. Barney shrunk back up several stairs into a shadowy recess holding his breath and biting his bottom lip, hoping he had not been seen. He didn’t know what to do. Think! He told himself. You’re an elder! But this didn’t help the situation much. His sword lay in that dingy room on top of his bag where he had dumped it on the floor. A fat lot of good it would d
o him being up there, he thought to himself. A loud crash drew his eye to the other end of the room. He had forgotten about young Ronald, who had been outside tending to the ponies earlier. Ronald was yelling in fright as he stumbled backwards toward the bottom of the stairs from another hound thing. He had managed to throw over a large wooden table between him and the creature. It glared at Ronald with beady yellow eyes, grinning through a mouth full of large yellow teeth with saliva dripping off a long protruding red tongue. Ronald was not as skilful with the sword as the others and was trying to pull an arrow out of the quiver on his back while he waved his longbow about to keep this thing away from him.
Barney, completely forgetting that he was trying to hide, yelled loudly above the racket of barks and yells. ‘Up here, lad!’ Ronald chanced a quick glance behind him and found the first step with his foot. The houndman paused when it heard Barney’s voice. It was momentarily confused at hearing another voice as it had thought that all their would-be victims were in the one room. The hound looked towards its comrade standing near the counter. This slight delay was all Ronald needed. Knocking the arrow, he drew it back quickly, the bow making a creaking noise. In a panicked reaction more than anything, he let fly the arrow at the head of this thing. It found its mark in the left eye, the point and shaft of the arrow burying deeply. The houndman throwing back its head howled in pain and rage. It staggered in circles clutching at the arrow and unable to keep its balance, crashed sideways onto the floorboards. It whimpered, kicked, and then became still, its stiff tail going limp. The orange feathers on the fletching quivering slightly as the houndman exhaled its last breath.
Ronald quickly drew another arrow and held it shakily in his bow at the ready as he walked backwards up the stairs. His legs were like jelly, and he was surprised that he had even hit this thing as he was shaking a great deal. This was a lot different to the Saltwood marksmanship trials held down the beach every year. The straw target on the beach below the village wasn’t full of teeth and trying to eat you for one thing. He bumped into Barney, and the two of them rushed up the remaining stairs and into Barney’s dingy room. A loud boom of thunder from outside and the walls of the Inn shook slightly. Barney and Ronald looking around desperately dragged the wooden dresser which made a loud scraping noise on the floor and propped it up against the door. Barney hoisted his bag on his back and took up his short sword in his right hand and the candle in his left. It threw some dull waving lights that cast menacing shadows around the room as Barney’s hand shook almost uncontrollably. The black smoke and putrid smell pouring off the candle almost made him sick.
The houndman leader bent down low on the floor and sniffed hard at the dead comrade. It clearly had not anticipated any losses to its company against these soft mankind animals. In anger and Ignoring Cedric’s sword, it leapt past a barking comrade and savagely threw itself on Cedric. The weight of this houndman threw the exhausted Cedric back into the wall and down onto the ground. He valiantly tried to raise his sword, but another houndman bit his arm in a vice-like grip as Cedric screamed in pain. The houndman leader standing over Cedric, paused as if to cherish the moment, then struck and killed him quickly. The other guard seeing a possible chance to escape rushed past the last houndman towards the front door. To his shock, standing in the doorway and blocking his path was the innkeeper holding a large skiffing pike. Its six-foot timber shaft had a fitted sharp iron tip with a reverse hook. The guard stumbled over to the innkeeper expecting his help and then looked on in disbelief as the innkeeper ran him through with this pike. He fell to the ground on his knees, to lose consciousness as the houndmen behind him closed in.
Holding their breath, Barney and Ronald listened intently. The muffled sounds of yelling and fighting coming up through the floor had subdued. Then came some low growling and guttural speech. The stairs up to their level began to creak. Was that the Innkeepers' voice? What had happened to him, they wondered. Was he their prisoner? They could hear numerous feet scuffing over the floor, and the sound of hounds sniffing loudly outside their door came to their ears. The door handle turned, and the door was gently pushed inwards until it met the resistance of the dresser. Barney and Ronald backed to the far end of the little room, up against the window with the dull roar of rain pounding against the wooden shutters. An exclamation of astonishment came from something on the other side of the door. Another loud crack of thunder outside and the muffled sound of heavy rain became increasingly louder. A more substantial push and the door moved inwards with a jerk knocking the dresser hard. Three houndmen howled in anticipation as the Innkeeper pushed against the door with his shoulder. Barney shoving the candle into Ronald’s grasp used both hands to hold his sword and began hacking at the closed window shutters. As he suspected, they were rotten like the rest of the place and began breaking apart under his blows.
The door shuddered again in unison with another clap of thunder. A hairy arm with paws instead of hands reached around the gap in the door to feel for the obstruction. It explored the top of the dresser and quickly withdrew. Some muffled guttural speech outside the door, and then a tremendous crash as two houndmen burst through the door, forcing the dresser to tip over onto its side. Barney glanced back briefly and then continued to hack feverishly at the wooden shutters which were now almost broken open. A whistle followed by a cold gust of wind shot into the room as the shutters broke free from the window frame and fell silently into the dark outside. Ronald threw the candle onto the straw bed in a panic and drew his bow back as far as he could while aiming an arrow at the hound thing closest to him. Behind the two lead houndmen, Ronald caught a glimpse of the grinning Innkeeper, who seemed to be in league with these monsters. A houndman growled loudly and reached towards Ronald. Barney yelled and tried to pull Ronald back towards the window. Ronald stepped back off-balance as the arrow leapt from the bow. It flew between the two lead houndmen to embed itself deep inside the astonished face of the Innkeeper. Lucas, the innkeeper, went stiff then fell backwards to land on the floorboards with a loud thump.
The lead houndman immediately fell to the floor on its knees and raised its head high and let out a long mournful howl. The other houndmen rallied around their leader as it awkwardly tried to hold the Innkeepers head in its lap. It bit the arrow savagely and broke it off so that only a jagged piece of the shaft was visible. Barney and Roland were hastily trying to climb through the small window at the same time but got stuck. Lighting and thunder erupted outside, and the wind lashed hard against them, whipping them with heavy raindrops. They didn’t know how far it was to the ground, and they didn’t care. These hound things were on the landing outside the door grieving over the death of the innkeeper for some unknown reason, and the candle that Ronald had thrown on the dry straw bed was now the cause for half the room being on fire.
Both men landed in soft wet earth and discovering that neither had any broken bones, they stumbled in the dark through the rain and mud towards the stables to realize their mounts had long gone. The roof above the room over the second floor was now alight burning from within. The flames battled against the heavy rain, hissing and spitting but continued to burn the centuries-old dry wood of the Inn. The fire did not discriminate, as it ate everything. Barney and Ronald could feel the heat of the raging flames from where they squatted in the stables. The light from the fire lit up the wall of the nearby ominous woods. For some silly reason, for a split-second, Barney pictured the tribe of bed bugs valiantly leaping out of the window after them vacating their home in the mattress to escape the flames.
Over the constant loud crackling, an angry howl was heard. From the window surrounded by flames looked out the leader of the houndmen. With half her hair burnt off and ignorant to the intense heat, Mrs. Elwood was in an angry state. One of her children was dead, and now her husband also. Her eyes burned a crimson hatred, more intense than the flames crackling around her. She screamed in agony from the heat, and her remaining children pushed her out of the window and jumped after her to escape the
hungry fire. Landing on her feet, she sniffed hard with her nose in the air; she would make these mankind animals pay. However, the smoke, wind, and rain betrayed her senses. She must find and kill the two escapees before the changeling curse lifted at daylight to revert her and her children back to mankind form. Then they would have to wait for the following night to resume their hunt and these men may have long gone by then.
The witch that had cursed them half a century ago warned her if she should ever fail, the curse will render them permanently into their changeling form. She zigzagged across the open yard towards the tall woods howling revenge and promising a fate worse than death. Barney and Ronald sunk back into the shadows of the stall and huddled in a dark corner. The flames grew higher as the fire engulfed the entire inn. The lightning flashed, and thunder crashed all about, making the whole situation even more terrifying. The Elwood children followed their mother into the woods, sniffing here and there trying to pick up mankind's scent. Barney and Ronald did not move an inch, hardly daring to breathe until the storm subsided, and the sun emerged through broken clouds. All that remained of the inn was a smouldering pile of half-burnt beams, ash, and stones.
36.
THE NECROMANCER
The Moonstone within the Talisman, being a sentient entity, had its own ambitions including a symbiotic existence with those born of Druid bloodlines. The stone was powerful but limited to the magic skills to which its host could master. It had been woken after many years but remembered its purpose. Like most enchanted objects, it also required time to regenerate as it drew power from another realm. It had expended a great deal of its energy helping this mancub, and now it was time to call for more aid. Its blue heart pulsed rapidly, and it reached out and called to another in the mortal realm. In a quagmire several miles away, a sleeping beast heard it’s named called and stirred from its slumber. Several white Moorbirds partaking in a courtship dance took fright and rose into the air suddenly. In the still muddy surface, the water bubbled mysteriously, and then a shape began to emerge from its shallow depths.
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