The jewel in Strala’s sweep glowed green and pulsed with her heartbeat. Her black cloak now in smouldering pieces, hung off her body. The defensive runes woven throughout her cloak had been destroyed on her initial contact with the dagger. For no Druid weapon could ever be handled by a witch. Strala whispered some commands to the only other surviving witch in the room, Salum. Strala now needed time to recover, for her jewel to work and repair. But it was worth losing half her witches’ and some of the army above for this result. She had defeated the NaZuth, and King Boorag had killed the traitor, Grell. With these comforting thoughts filling her head, she slipped into unconsciousness. What Strala didn’t know however was that Grell, though wounded dreadfully had escaped for now to a cold place at Lands’ End where he had other plans. That’s if he survived the venom of the Chik-Vax and this all depended on how displeased his patron Daemon Mazamaag would be with him.
42.
THE WINDBURN ARMY
Word had reached the other witch Covens that Strala had narrowly defeated the NaZuth and was likely dead. While most of the witches’ were pleased, there were a few who were disappointed as they had been loyal to Cedonia and would have instead confirmed that Strala had been destroyed.
A buzz of activity occurred in the Duskfall stronghold as the alpha leader Lothian barked orders to wolves running in all directions. From an outsider’s view, it looked like the wolves were merely running around pointlessly. However, they all had orders and were either warriors preparing a defence or the females, elderly or cubs assembling for the two-day journey to the safety of Aledran. Darnet had arrived less than an hour ago, closely followed by the Shadow Trackers Dafina and Shalia from the Grelen Clan to the south-west. An exhausted Darnet told of his experience, the details of his escape and the fall of Pico. Dafina relayed her vision of the combined Wildpack, and Windburn Grotto goblin army camped on the Glistening River at the edge of Duskfall province. Several nearby wolves ‘who overheard this conversation howled a forlorn Wolfsong at hearing the fate of Pico. The Warlord Shum had left his sanctuary of the New Territories in Trunarth to personally lead this army. Shalia then departed to Grelen to warn King Cornelius of the invading army, their last known position and likely intended direction. Falcon seekers were sent to parley with the muntjac lord in the northern wooded hills and the swineherds to the south. A small herd of swine were close by as it turned out, following the Glistening River upstream to Aledran after hearing disturbing news from some fleeing ponies.
Later that day, Prince Lothian sent an attachment of his fastest scouts and fighters towards their borders where it was anticipated the Wildpack and the goblins would first trespass into Duskfall. The twelve wolves stood tall as their Prince addressed them. They were proud to have been chosen for this task. The grandson of the great swine warrior Nargus Saddleback who had fought the Wildpack ten years ago looked on proudly at his allies. Holk Sabretusk was a giant boar having inherited his grandfather’s genetics and was a great friend and adviser to Lothian. He was jet black with a white blaze that went from one side over his back to the other side. Holk was the leader of the ‘Saddleback’ clan, so named for their white blaze markings unique to that clan.
They roamed the North marsh and the quagmire lands south of the Glistening River. Holk would have loved nothing more than to accompany the Duskfall scouts and kill a few hounds but knew he could not keep up with their stamina. He was better here with Prince Lothian and assisted in preparations. King Cornelius had sent several of his most trusted cleric elves to Duskfall, where they weighed up their choices with the Prince. Dafina, having now recovered her strength had entered the shadow plane once again to fast track through the place between the realms to view the march of the joined Wildpack and goblin army. They were only a day’s travel away now and no longer resorted to moving at night in an attempt of concealment, but boldly marched during the daylight hours. Thousands of wildlife fled in their wake, and those that were too slow were slaughtered. Not only did Warlord Shum hate Duskfall, but he also hated anything that lived within their borders seeking sanctuary.
With the Duskfall lands not being influenced by the witches’ ‘cloud enchantments, the sky and weather were clearer. That morning, several thousand panting hounds headed east in their house formations while goblin reavers and their respective leaders Shum and Brod followed at the rear. They came to a thin strip of long grassland between the North marsh and the Glistening River. Swarms of biting insects came off the marsh in clouds through the long grass that sheltered them from the wind. They descended on the Wildpack army and commenced feasting on the hound’s skin. The goblins were used to this kind of thing as it never concerned them at all. The hounds, however, were greatly distressed as they were unused to these micro-sized bloodsucking parasites.
Shum ordered the lead to double time away from the marsh and hug the river. The insects eventually retreated to the bog after having been sated and thirsty hounds crowded the river bank to drink their fill. Shum believed the elves had used an enchantment to send the swarm of insects against them and slow them down, but Brod knew better. The Wildpack had spent the better part of the last ten years in their home of Trunarth and as such were unaccustomed to the insects of the moors. He grinned to himself at the Warlords idiocy.
It was midmorning when the Wildpack halted and sent word back to Shum about the granite wall. A scouting party of brawlers from Shum’s own house Boarhounds had withdrawn to the forward pack to report on the obstacle in their path. After being assured it was safe by the goblins mages who couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, Shum and Brod moved forward to the front line to inspect the reason for the halt themselves. Brod rode along upon his Arachna-Pede which clicked and appeared nervous-looking this way and that as it passed quickly through the panting hounds on its short hairy legs. Brod wore his black cloak that flapped about in the breeze with the Windburn Grotto crest proudly displayed. Brod stopped some distance away from where Shum was speaking to several of his brawlers. One of them he recognised as Shum’s son, Diego.
Brod looked curiously up at the low grey granite barrier. It was high enough with smooth sides, and he doubted if they could construct anything to allow the several thousand hounds to traverse over. He had never been this far into the Duskfall lands and therefore had not seen this landmark before. Brod was no stranger to Granite as his entire home; the Windburn Grotto was carved into it. But that was underground, this was above ground. It indeed appeared to be natural grey granite, though it was much smoother than anything he had ever seen. It came up out of the fast-flowing river and disappeared in a haze to the right. Brod looked along the edge where it disappeared into the moors and shimmered in a wavering line as far as the eye could see. It looked pitted and eroded here and there and didn’t appear to be more than about 20 feet high. Some of Shum’s Raven prowlers returned to report that the wall was only several miles thick and was likely a result of some ancient earth flow. Brod, Shum and some hound lieutenants discussed how to get around it. It was half a day’s march back to a point where they could safely cross the river and the Ravens reported that the right end of this wall basically disappeared into the edge of the North Marsh several miles away. Nobody fancied going that way to face the quicksands and insects of the bottomless quagmires.
They decided to make camp for several hours while the scouting party followed the wall to try and find a way through. Even though the granite wall appeared to be nothing more than a natural barrier, Brod’s mages Slix and Lakzit were becoming nervous. The Ravens went ahead, but from the air could not see a way through. Close to 3,000 hounds rested along the edge of the Glistening River over a two-mile stretch. Brod and Shum, surrounded by their personal guards, found an outcrop of rock high in the wall that provided some shade from the exposed sun. Brod was very uncomfortable, having been unaccustomed to the direct sunlight for such long periods. Shum was concerned that they were exposed and ‘boxed in’ with the wall in front and the deep river on one side, his options were
limited should they come under attack. Several miles away on the other side of the wall, cleric elves drew summoning runes with their marble staffs upon the granite surface while reciting an enchantment only known to them.
Blue smoke came from the rock where their staffs passed over the surface, causing small pieces to crumble and fall to the ground. They continued to recite the wording in unison, and soon patterns in the rock began to take shape. The rock bulged slightly as six figures writhed underneath the surface as if trapped in the granite. The senior cleric pointed his staff towards the other side of the wall and said the final word of the enchantment to finish the cipher. The shapes disappeared, and the rock surface rippled slightly like a liquid then became still.
Slix appeared concerned and looked towards Lakzit. He nodded down towards his enchantment dagger as he had noticed the crystal blade had gone from its normal milky white to a darker grey. Several glyphs in his face began to tingle lightly and then burn. He looked around in alarm as did Lakzit who was now experiencing the same signs. Something of an unknown magic origin was approaching, and both mages could sense that it was reasonably powerful. Slix groaned and approached the two leaders. Several brawlers growled loudly, indicating a warning not to approach their Warlord. Shum smiled, he disliked this weasely little long-nosed hunched over goblin mage they called Slix. All the same, they were allies for the moment, and he grunted at the guards to let Slix pass. Brod was slightly annoyed. Slix was one of his trusted mages. Must these hounds be so overzealous every time another goblin wanted to talk to him? As Slix approached, Brod saw that his red face was sweating profusely, and he sat up curiously to speak. ‘What is it Slix, I see you are disturbed?’ Slix replied, ‘My Lord. I feel danger coming, something born of a powerful magic origin. '
Shum and Brod jumped to their feet. ‘Guards!’ Barked Shum loudly. 30 or 40 Boarhound brawlers from the warlord’s personal guard, the Hellhounds, moved in to form a defensive semi-circle in front of the rock wall. Word passed quickly through the Wildpack and hounds jumped to their feet and looked wearily around for danger. House lieutenants barked orders and the houses formed up in battle formation along the riverbank. They were confused, however as they did not sense from which direction the threat was coming from. More goblin warriors hustled up to surround their king but couldn’t get any closer through the hound’s defence. Everyone looked at Slix and Lakzit expectantly. Shum sniffed the air but could detect nothing out of the ordinary.
He was about to speak when a Boarhound near the wall yelped. A long grey spear the same colour as the granite rock protruded from the wall and ran the hound through the chest and killed him. The closest hounds jumped away in alarm as a grey figure followed the spear out of the wall and stood looking down at them. It put one large boot upon the dead hound’s neck and with a crunch of bones, pulled the spear from its body. The hounds and goblins backed away but maintained a defensive line keeping king Brod and the Warlord Shum behind them.
Six figures stood facing the army. They were all grey, born of rock and fashioned to resemble the Grelen elves. They were in fact statues of old Grelen heroes that had recently been standing for centuries in the Grelen maze deep underground. These stone guardians had been awoken by the Grelen clerics to fight one more time in defence of the Grelen maze. They said nothing and with faces set in determined scowls, stepped forward. Several had long spears, one had a massive axe with a full double blade, and the remainder had short swords. They all had one common feature, and that was their grey tone and granite bodies. Shum and Brod pushed their way through the ranks to put a fair distance between themselves and these rocky creatures that had appeared out of nowhere. Hounds and goblins threw themselves upon these grey creatures that moved forward stiffly like automatons and swung their weapons from side to side in a monotonous motion inflicting horrible injuries to anything in their way.
They were struck by all manner of weapons wielded by the goblins and savaged by the most ferocious hounds. Attacking them did little other than break away small pieces of granite from their bodies. They did not tire or fall and would not stop until they or the threat was destroyed. This was one of the Grelen elves' most powerful defensive enchantments. From a safe distance, Slix and Lakzit sat cross-legged on the ground near the river bank. They had just argued over the most appropriate enchantment, but rock did not have many weaknesses. Finally, they agreed to recite a conjuring cipher to aid them; they called upon an elemental wraith. Shutting out the screaming of the goblin reavers, and the hound’s yelps and howls, they forced themselves into an arcane trance. They drew an intricate summoning rune in the soft earth near the water’s edge. The glyphs in their faces changed from white to light blue and glowed softly. Jumping to their feet, they stepped back and then drove their enchantment daggers into the earth to the hilt.
A slight tremble was felt in the ground. Water from the Glistening River suddenly acted peculiar. It seemed to trickle at first then flow in tiny streams up and over the river bank and swirl around the enchantment daggers stuck firmly in the earth. The water followed the shape of the design drawn into the earth by the mages and then grew and rose to a height of ten feet. The mages were relieved to see it appear, as they knew that this minor elemental was rather fickle and unpredictable at times. It roared with the sound of a giant waterfall and spun first one way then the other. The Hydrox Wraith drifted down to the River and hovered over the water for moment or two, drawing water up into itself and growing even more massive and louder. By now, many hounds and goblins had noticed the water wraith and had backed away from the stone guardians.
The guardians continued to move about in close formation, arms rising and falling mechanically to kill the last few hounds within reach. Hounds and a handful of goblins lay dead and heaped up around the guardians as they pushed through them to proceed towards a wall of baying hounds formed up near the goblin mages. Both mages pulled their daggers from the earth and pointed them at the advancing statues. The Hydrox appeared to bend and twist under protest, all the while still spinning slowly. It drifted casually up and over the bank to completely engulf the guardians. All six statues could be seen inside the slowly spinning water spout still walking forward and striking at the wall of water. They began to slow down, and it appeared they were having increasing difficulty in moving forward. As near-invincible in mortal hand to hand combat as these stone guardians were, they were made of rock after all and susceptible to the force of water. Their arms now by their side, they found it impossible to do anything, pinned by the strength of the water and stopped, with several falling to their knees.
The Hydrox wraith spun faster and faster as glimpses of great blue hands could be seen through the water in the shape of many fists pounding towards the centre where the guardians were trapped. What corrosive damage water could do to granite rock over centuries, the Hydrox did in minutes. It was spinning at such a rate, it became a blue blur. Many turned away as it was giddying to watch, and the deafening roar continued unchanged. After a time, the Hydrox Wraith grew taller and taller, until it finally toppled over creating a massive wave that washed along the ground to dissipate and flow back into the river.
All that was left was a giant circle of disturbed earth full of grey coloured mud that gave off an odd sheen in the open sunlight. As enchanted as the stone guardians were, they were still only made of old granite rock. They had however left in their wake close to a hundred hounds and twenty goblins dead and broken. The exhausted mages Slix and Lakzit spoke with Shum and Brod. This was without a doubt, the work of elves and Shum was enraged. His favourite son Diego lay among the dead, one of the first to be slain. He swore that he would ensure every filthy elf in this land would be slaughtered. Brod looked on at the carnage in front of him, at Shum and then the frenzied hounds and wished he hadn’t left his home in the Windburn Grotto at all.
43.
SOUL REAPING
At first light, rays of sunshine shone into the room through a chink in the timber shutters. Barney put one
eye up against the shutter and cautiously peeked outside. He was astonished to see a clear day with a sky vacant of clouds. That’s different he thought, better weather here than at home. This part of the street and nearby buildings looked completely normal. Except that it was hushed, and he couldn’t see anyone else around, which was odd now that it was daytime. The usual sounds of a town waking up should have been more apparent. He yawned quietly and gathered his belongings as Ronald awoke. ‘We can risk going outside for a look now, I think. I wonder where the residents of this house are.’ Said Barney. They crept to the front door and opened it slowly. It made a slight creaking sound, which was too loud for Barney’s liking. Everything looked normal outside.
The strange grey mist had gone, and the sky was bright blue as if it had been washed clean overnight. The streets certainly were deserted with no signs of any fighting or whatever the cause of the previous night’s strange noises. A spear and short sword lay abandoned in the street, which was peculiar. They made their way down several small streets, which twisted and turned past several buildings towards the centre of the village. As they neared the end of a road, they slowed down and looked at each other as they heard crying coming from up ahead. They guardedly rounded the next corner, past a closed shop of sorts and entered the open village square. It was similar in design to the square at Saltwood with a few stalls, low stony walls for sitting on with crushed seashell scattered over a rock-based paved floor. It seemed to be the style of the time. Many women holding infants and accompanied by young children were milling around. They were all visibly upset. More women and children were still entering the square from the other side and were wailing loudly as well.
Realm of Druids Page 27