Realm of Druids

by Mark Hogenelst

  From the woods to his left emerged hundreds of brawlers from the houses of the Master Staff and Rottweils. To Shum, this was a joyous sight indeed as a wave of muscled black and tanned brawlers spread into the charge of muntjacs. Barring teeth and panting heavily they targeted knots of muntjac warriors, who rallied to face their new adversary, Shum’s party of survivors on the knoll now forgotten. Behind the leading brawlers came Shepherds streaming out of the woods. Now more howls of Ravenous bloodlust as hundreds of Wolfhounds and Danes came into view from Shum’s right side near the river. The muntjacs fought bravely, killing many hounds, but they were caught in a pincer movement and were crushed under the massive numbers of rabid hounds. Shum was surprised, but not as surprised as Snowbeard, Lothian and Holk who watched with dismay from the entrance of the Duskfall cave. So many hounds! Their stink filled the air, the cold wind doing little to disperse it. Snowbeard bellowed out to his surviving muntjacs to retreat, but his voice was lost in the din coming from the throats of a thousand baying hounds. They were very few muntjacs left now, and the fight to save the stronghold was undoubtedly lost. Duskfall would soon belong to the Wildpack.

  A cackle in his ear and suddenly Lilura stood next to Shum with her sweep in her hand. ‘So, Devastator, you have survived.’ She laughed. Shum trying his best to control his anger looked at her black cloak with glowing white runes swirling about its surface. He wondered where the other two witches’ were. They were flying back to their Lady Ravyne to give them the news of victory. An ornate horn hung by its chain in front of Lilura. Shum figured it was of some arcane significance. The two goblin mages Slix and Lakzit appeared silently out of the dark and stood behind Lilura nervously, their bulging beady eyes peering this way and that out from their red faces. They had witnessed what had befallen their king and were being careful, else they should displease Lilura. ‘Well, you fared better than the goblins at least.’ She laughed ‘I had to teach runaway Brod a lesson for his cowardliness by means of a little experiment I call ‘If only goblins could fly’.Only these two remain,’ she stated while indicating a jerking thumb behind her, ‘and I need them for a few more enchantments to reserve my own energies.’ She gave a loud laugh that ended in a snort as a splatter of saliva fell from her mouth and dribbled down the front of her cloak.

  Shum failed to comprehend her joke as he watched hundreds of his Wildpack brawler’s stream out of the woods and chase the last couple of muntjacs and wolves running helter-skelter across the stony field to the stronghold caves. Several brave muntjacs, great warriors in their own right stood their ground spearing brawlers upon bloodied antlers and tossing them left and right. They eventually tired and went down under the tide of hounds. No swine remained to fight that he could see. ‘Why did we not assault with my entire force in the first place?’ He inquired. Lilura’s voice changed to an annoyed tone. She snapped at him. ‘Do not question my methods. To question me is to question Lady Ravyne. You are merely servants to do our bidding.’ Shum’s tail stiffened and the hair rose upon his neck. He bowed his head in submission, so the witch could not see him clenching and grinding his teeth in fury. He was of mixed emotions. The wolves were defeated, their leader and a handful left cowering in their caves. Though this came at a considerable cost to the Wildpack, a third of his mighty army had been destroyed in the process. ‘Let us inspect our victory,’ said Lilura blankly. Black clouds continued to boil above as he followed Lilura down the knoll and over the stony ground, weaving through many of the dead. Lilura would stop occasionally to bend down and run a blackened finger through the blood of random bodies. She would suck her finger each time and stop momentarily as if contemplating something. Many carcasses of friend and foe alike shook and shivered as countless nightbirds ate their fill.

  Shum sensed that it would soon be morning as Lilura had decided to dispatch her pets, the nightbirds to their distant caves. He figured that in another hour or two, the Ravens would be back. Crowded brawlers parted to let them walk through. Many congratulated the Warlord for this victory. They approached the end of the stony field as the foothill housing the Duskfall stronghold cave loomed above them. A thousand hounds in a semi-circle formation faced the black cave entrance. It was tranquil inside. Shum caught a scent of ash from the trampled burnt vine beneath his feet, now saturated in blood. Lilura turned and faced the two goblin mages. ‘That enchantment we discussed, do it now.’

  The mages stepped forward in front of the cave mouth. Shum could only scent that a handful of survivors were left in there. Why not just flood the caves with brawlers and destroy them all? Why the theatrics and display of the magic? Shum took several paces back and fell in line with his brawlers. The mages threw back their cowls to reveal bald red-coloured heads. Their faces now aglow with pale glyphs and scars, they produced their enchantment daggers. The blades emitted a dull white and yellow glow which pulsed in sync with the glyphs on their faces. With a strained look on Slix’s face, he drew an outline of an arched door with several summoning runes. Lakzit recited a string of strange words that made Shum shiver all over. The rocks scattered about on the ground rolled together slowly at first, then sprang up into the air to follow the line of the door. A blast of cold air briefly whipped the mages cloaks about. The long leaves on some nearby shrubs curled up and froze as the closest bush faded to brown and died.

  Two paralyzing red eyes then appeared from the blackness beyond the arched doorway. An almost transparent glowing body with tendril-like protuberances wafting about its torso hovered in the air. Flickering blue energy sparked along the length and breadth of its body as it faced the mages. ‘The Diabolus’, whispered Shum, a wraith from the shadow plane between the realms awaited its orders. Shum and many of the brawlers backed further away as an intense cold air flowed around them and ruffled their hair. Many of the younger hounds having never witnessed a Dread-Realm Daemon before stood in shock with ears pinned back and tails drooped between their legs. They all feared the black craft, and that alone was likely the reason they had bowed down to the witches’ for so long. Lilura was pleased. ‘Good’ she said, ‘Now send it in to clear the caves. If Prince Lothian lives, I want him alive.’ She called as an afterthought. The mages crooned a rune song to the Diabolus. Beads of perspiration ran down their red faces as they pointed their glowing daggers to the black cave mouth. The Diabolus now summoned could have just as quickly turned on them if they faltered in their cipher construct. It turned slowly to face the cave and began drifting on a ghostly wind towards the mouth.

  Then it happened quickly. The blind witch Lilura, clearly confident with the current state of affairs held her sweep loosely by her side and faced Shum to speak. An enraged Holk and Snowbeard could contain their anger no longer. They had witnessed the destruction of all their warriors and had fought themselves bravely. They would not perish by this Dread-Realm fiend being sent to destroy them. The Prince was further back in the caves consulting urgently with an elf cleric that had suddenly appeared. Both boar and muntjac suffering from many wounds watched the gathering outside the cave from the dark recess inside. They saw the grinning fiend drift towards the cave with many long tendrils reaching out before it. They saw Lilura turn to look at Shum.

  Then they struck. Silently both champions charged out of the cave either side of the fiend. The Diabolus lightening quick whipped several sparking blue tendrils towards Snowbeard that wrapped around his middle. He snorted loudly and in a mighty effort, burst free and tumbled forward into the goblin mages impaling Lakzit upon his antlers and knocking Slix hard to send him sprawling onto the ground. With the goblin’s trance now broken; the Diabolus howled and threw its tendrils around Snowbeard once more, the blue energy drawing out the muntjac lord’s life essence. Snowbeard stiffened and threw his head into the air to bellow in such a loud roar that it echoed terrifyingly through the hills and beyond. The remaining two muntjac warriors charged out of the cave at full speed and drove their antlers through Slix as he stood up, tossing his now lifeless body into the air behind t
hem as their momentum carried them into the wall of hounds beyond. They were swamped by brawlers and died quickly, having proudly served their lord to the end. The gateway closed, and a fast-black wind whistled through the air. The Diabolus released its hold on the now-dead muntjac lord. It wailed mournfully as its body stretched and thinned into the shape of a blue line that streamed into the black abyss through the shrinking doorway.

  The hounds had not reacted as yet and were still some distance back. Holk had avoided the fiend’s reaching tendrils and charged directly at the back of Lilura. She turned at hearing the beating hooves behind her to see a huge black and white boar charging towards her. Quickly lifting her sweep as the jade jewel began to glow, the runes upon her cloak formed their protection charm. The green witch mist surrounding her began to build a counter enchantment. But Holk was faster, spurred on by his hatred for the witch. He felt his face and shoulders burn as he powered through the resistance of the ‘Stench of Death’ surrounding Lilura. Shum watched on in humour, holding his brawlers back. He was eager to see how this played out. Lilura’s sweep went flying, broken in half by a mighty swipe of Holk’s head and shoulders. His long tusks had connected with the witches’ sweep, and a loud crack was heard. Holk’s forward momentum drove him heavily through Lilura’s defence enchantment and into her legs, breaking both of them with a sickening crunch. The stitches holding her eyelids burst open revealing frightened red orbs. Holk and Lilura tumbled across the ground in a tangle to land in front of Shum. Holk Sabretusk was dead, struck heavily by the witches wallop. The mighty boar lay on his side burnt horribly and destroyed by this witches’ last enchantment.

  Lilura lifted herself onto her elbows and tried to rise, but her legs were twisted and would not work. She faced Shum and pointed to the side where her broken sweep lay. ‘My sweep!’ Shum glanced briefly at the broken sweep nearby then turned his head back toward the witch. He sat back on his haunches and did not move. ‘My Sweep, dog!’ She screamed in anger. The term dog was one of the most derogatory terms one could call a hound. Shum looked again at Lilura’s sweep, then at the body of the giant boar. He stood looking back at Lilura and growled with a malevolent glint in his grey eyes. He almost felt sorry for this brave boar with a white blaze that had died trying to kill the witch. Without knowing it, the swine had done him excellent service. Shum padded towards Lilura with a light, almost cheerful spring in his step. Lilura now fearing that she had lost control of Shum took the horn she was wearing in one hand and urgently pleaded, ‘We need to reserve our main energies for the final assault on Aledran.’ Shum looked down at her and held his tail out rigid behind him. He curled his lips upwards, and in a ferocious toothy display growled, ‘I care not for Aledran, and it’s the wolves I wanted to destroy.’ He bawled loudly, beginning to quiver uncontrollably and continued. ‘This is for Yola and my pups.’

  Lilura’s stared at Shum unbelievingly, then her face took on an expression of fear as she raised the horn of ‘Serpentine’ to her lips and began to blow. The Rust-Serpents would protect her and teach these hounds a lesson. However, Shum was not about to let that happen. He suspected she was about to summon some Dread-Realm Daemon to slay him. Saliva drooled uncontrollably from his mouth as he threw his jaws open wide above the blind witches’ throat. Lilura screamed, her defence charm was destroyed by the charging boar, and in an instant, it was finished. The ‘Serpentine’ horn fell from her twitching hand and rolled to a stop along the stony ground nearby.

  Shum threw his head in the air and howled victoriously. His hellhounds eagerly leapt in and tore her to pieces. The watching brawlers still in awe that their Warlord had dared kill a witch took up his howl. Almost immediately, the dark sky above lightened and stars could be seen through the breaking clouds. A glow over the top of the Scarbia Mountains indicated it was close to dawn. A score of surviving wolves led by Darnet the scout and all injured in some way made their way out of a cave high up on the hillside. It was a secret path from the stronghold caves below. They had been given a final order from Prince Lothian to trek for Aledran and warn Bragus of the fate of Duskfall. The victorious howls of several thousand hounds echoed up the hillside from below, encouraging the survivors to move faster. The handful of surviving Falcons now flew down from the crags to join them. They had shivered all night hearing the battle far below and feared the patrolling nightbirds would discover where they roosted. Deep in the caves Lothian and the elf cleric Dafina argued in loud whispers.

  'Do you not hear them howl for your blood?’ said Dafina desperately. ‘I care not.’ Said the prince sadly. ‘I will stay to buy time for what’s left of my clan.’ Dafina shook her head in wonder. Prince or not, she was going to tell him off. ‘What could you do against the thousands outside? Duskfall is lost!’ Lothian shifted his position; his back legs were hurt badly from several bites and a strike from a reaver's club. ‘I could not walk far anyway; I must die here to honour my fallen brothers Snowbeard and Holk and that of the brave warriors of my pack.’ A multitude of barks and yelps from a wave of brawlers echoed through the cave tunnels towards them as the Wildpack began searching the caves. The prince turned to ready himself for his final fight. He had convinced himself he would die proudly protecting his home. Here where he was born and the generations before him. Dafina was at a loss of what to do with this stubborn proud wolf.

  Three growling Shepherds sniffing hard appeared at the cave entrance from an adjoining tunnel. One raised its head to howl in glee, calling to other brawlers nearby. Lothian suddenly felt faint. ‘No’ he cried. ‘It’s not fair’. Dafina had gently tapped the prince between his ears, and he fell to the ground in a deep slumber. The brawlers hesitated as they were not expecting to see an elf here. The Shepherds saw the elf wave a glowing marble staff in front of her and in an instant the elf and wolf were gone. A strangely distorted pocket of air hung in the centre of the cave that the hounds could not focus on, and after a short while, even that had faded away.

  A nervous lieutenant reported to Shum, who sat expectantly outside the mouth of the cave. ‘There are many bodies inside the cave Lord Devastator, but we have not found Lothian yet.’ However, Shum really didn’t mind, he was in a euphoric state. The Wildpack had won. All of Duskfall was either dead or fled, and all the creatures in this part of the moors would know his name. His whole life had been a lesson in fearing the wolves and muntjacs, now they were all dead and he was alive. He would now claim these entire lands as new hunting grounds. All around him, hungry brawlers ate from the carcasses of swine and muntjacs that littered the stony field. The shadows grew shorter as daylight began with the red sun now visible above the Scarbia Ranges in the east. Shum gave orders for his brawlers to drag every wolf to the nearby river and throw them in. He did not want a single filthy wolf to be anywhere in his sight.

  Silently a tiny cleft in the air appeared near him. A small arm reached down and picked up the forgotten horn that lay next to the remains of Lilura’s body. The arm and horn withdrew into the cleft and disappeared with a slight click. Shum looked around, and not seeing anything shrugged and continued to chew on his meal. Dafina put the horn inside her tunic and spoke the cipher to keep her and the unconscious prince within the shrouded veil. She had almost exhausted her magic powers travelling through the shadow plane to get here in the first place. She only had enough ability to take herself and the wolf to Aledran, but she needed to somehow get back to the Grelen Maze. Her king, Uncle Cornelius, would know what to do. She looked down at the sleeping prince. He was exhausted, and she imagined he would not be very pleased with her when he woke up.

  56.

  THE LADY RAVYNE

  Though the witches’ loathed wolves, they hated the elves even more. They did not care about the ancient blood feuds between the Wildpack and the wolves. The hounds were weary of the black craft and as such respected the witches’ enough to generally do their bidding. Every now and again some upstart hound had to be blown to pieces or fed to a Rust-Serpent to keep the rest in line. What th
e witches’ really desired was to destroy or enslave the other species that were versed in magic lore. This could only be achieved through defeating the elves and conquering where the seat of the Druid’s power resided. Many centuries ago, they had tried to take Aledran, but the bears were incredibly resilient in brute strength and magic defences.

  The bears had been charged with the preservation of the Shahdom of Aledran by the Druids of old and had allied with the elves and wolves. It was a miserable loss to the witches’, and they had never tried again. During the last ‘Occurrens Locus’ when the moon was a full blood red, the combined coven leaders agreed that the power of the Druid priests had at last faded from the realm. With the elves and wolves destroyed, the bears would be the only obstacle to Aledran. These and other thoughts flashed through Lady Ravyne’s mind. Since leaving the sanctuary of the Night Grove Coven, she had been rewarded with pleasing victories. The Duskfall wolves were wiped out along with the pride of the swine and muntjacs, allowing unguarded access through the moors to the edge of Aledran. As an added bonus, King Brod and his goblins were destroyed. Well, they had outlived their purpose after all. It was time for the Windburn Grotto to repopulate with new goblins anyway. Most importantly, they had found the entrance to the Grelen maze and Ravyne planned to exploit this immediately.

  Word had come to the north that Strala had defeated a most annoying Daemon the void shadow, which for some reason had taken a particular liking to her. She had amassed a vast army of hounds and goblins and with help from witches’ of the minor covens, was trekking east to invade the Silent Ridge wolf kingdom. In a similar tactic Ravyne herself had employed, Strala strove to draw out the Elvene in the south to fight as well. There is the matter of the rumour involving a mancub who carries a Talisman of immense power. A Druid Talisman some even say though it is hard to believe as all the Druid Talisman were destroyed or banished to the Dread-Realm with the last corrupted druid centuries ago.