A multitude of yellow glowing eyes sat buried within their broad feline skulls. Two enormous angular nostrils perched above rows of sharp teeth that poked out from the sides of their mouths. Six sturdy legs carried their slim bodies quickly, swaying side to side as they ran towards the defenders. Each limb ended in six digits, each of which had wicked curved nails that issued a throb of clicks as they moved. They did not seem to have any tail at all and appeared to exhibit no fear. Hints of black smoke could be seen smouldering from their coats that smelt strongly of brimstone.
The elves yelled warnings along the lines of defenders, as they braced themselves. Then a peculiar thing happened. The long line of Oak trees moved. They stayed rooted in the ground but swayed unnaturally and after the last of the defenders had passed safely through, reached down with thick boughs towards the approaching werecats. Mournful creaking and groaning filled the air, made by the old trees that never meant to twist and move in this fashion. The elves had summoned ‘Bitterwood’, the forest sprite and made their plea. Many of the werecats ducked and leapt to escape past these enchanted trees. Most of them were swatted by mighty branches and crushed under heavy limbs. Small groups of werecats had got through and were engaged with the bears. They leapt high with three and four jumping onto each bear and pulling them down.
With blades and clubs rising and falling, many werecats were killed. Elves ran down the line to assist the bears and managed to repel this first wave. The wolves and swine watched the remaining line, in the event another group of werecats pushed through. Many bears and elves lay dead, as Karvu and Gron killed the last few werecats that made it through the trees. This small victory only brought a brief impasse to the Aledran defenders. The Oaks swung menacingly back and forth as the remaining yowling werecats lingered on the other side. Behind them came a thousand hounds and goblins. After briefly consulting Gron, Princess Eylon gave the order to fall back a mile or so further into the forest to the next defensive position on higher ground.
Lady Strala, Jeveran the Faceless, Lady Gretchen the Haggard and some minor skyriders casually approached the line of Oaks from a safe distance above and stopped on their sweeps just out of arrow range. Strala had hoped the defenders would retreat into the forest and she now thought it was time to call upon aid from a particularly fierce Dread-Realm Daemon. She reached into her cloak with a plump hand and withdrew a rolled-up parchment. This was the last Scroll of Flames known to exist in this realm that possessed the arcane properties to open a certain doorway. As it unfurled in the breeze, the thin yellow parchment carved from the hide of a long-extinct animal released a tiny puff of black smoke. Strala stared and concentrated intensely on the strange runes and glyphs that floated above the scroll parchment in flaming red. She then spoke the commands to invoke the Daemon Incendus. Small green flames flickered along the edges of the scroll until it was completely engulfed. Her hand was strangely unaffected by the fire as she continued to concentrate. A growing heat surrounded Strala as her witch mist constantly swirled around her body. The other skyriders, feeling uncomfortable, moved back.
The scroll burnt to a crisp then broke up into pieces of ash that fell from Strala’s hands to be caught up in the breeze. From the werecats pit, a bright green glow burst forth as the Daemon Incendus emerged. Many of the werecats yowled in glee. The outline of flickering blue eyes could be seen in the wall of shapeless green flame. The eyes looked up expectantly at Strala for a moment as she yelled ‘Eat!’ Incendus fell to the ground and flowed like water towards the Oaks. He ducked sideways and quickly engulfed some shrubs and the crouching goblins that were hiding in there. Strala and the other witches’ giggled as Incendus left a black and scorched ground in his wake.
The Fire Daemon paused then roared and burst headlong into the mighty Oaks, setting them alight and causing them to flail about wildly. The fire spread to the entire front line of trees, and soon the flames cackled through their canopies and licked the trees beyond. Soon the whole forest was on fire. A hot wind sprung up and blew into the witching fire inflaming it immensely as it roared and ate everything in its wake. Small fire spouts sprung up amongst the heat and flames and carried flaming ash quickly to nearby trees. The oaks became still and one by one they toppled over to crash and throw into the air a magnificent spray of embers and sparks. The defenders were alarmed and fled before the advancing fire that moved much quicker than they thought possible.
They were now several miles east into the Great Rift as Aledran Forest was being destroyed bit by bit. The fire did not affect the werecats as they crept forward through the luminous red oaks, wary of a trap. The weakened defenders paused a moment to rest and take stock of the situation to determine their losses. They looked back to see thick black smoke rise and blend in with the heavy dark clouds. The increasing roaring sound of the flames eating everything in its path propelled the defenders on. A deep chuckle echoed through the scorching forest, and a tall wide flame rose high into the sky above the blazing canopy. Incendus looked down upon the several hundred fleeing defenders before him and roared, spraying embers and coals into the further trees. The defenders had broken their ranks as the heat reached them, panicked wolves, swine and most of the elves and bears fled in broken groups before the screen of fire.
To make matters, worse werecats were sighted in the distance following the flames and creeping closer. As Incendus advanced, a group of exhausted elves were huddled behind an overhang of rock from a mound near the bank of the Glistening River. Sheltered from the heat, they could already sense the rise in water temperature, as bubbles and steam began to emerge from the water. Above the roaring sound of death, Princess Eylon yelled to her clerics. ‘Help me with the summons!’ A cleric yelled back, ‘I fear my Princess that the sprite will not be powerful enough, we are to perish here!’ She replied, ‘No! I will not die like this. We have to try and give others more time to escape’. Eylon knew they had expended most of the energy from their staffs already but hoped together with the Ruby gem they could cast one more enchantment. She gave the order, and her four surviving clerics surrounded her as she leaned over the water’s edge. The clerics channelled their combined power through the princess as she recited the summons. She drew the water summoning rune in the soft ground as the air around them became increasingly hot and painful to breathe.
Incendus sensed more prey was near. An engorged flame in the shape of a paw appeared and rested on top of a large boulder as he looked over an overhang of rock to spy the elves below. Three of the clerics directly below his eye flare were incinerated instantly into heaps of crisp glowing ash. The princess and surviving cleric’s robes caught on fire as they crawled further under the overhang of rock in an attempt to escape the worst of the heat. Incendus drew in a great breath, and Princess Eylon gasped for breath as the air was sucked away. ‘What is this?’ boomed a loud hollow voice over the roar made by Incendus. The princess, with some of her hair burnt and blisters on her face, turned her head sideways and looked through partially closed eyes at the flowing river.
She saw a tall figure standing in the deep flowing water of the Glistening River, with both hands on her hips. This was the water sprite Aquiraa, one of the more powerful elementals that existed and was rarely seen. She had heard the summons of the elves, but it was a weak calling and not powerful enough to compel her to this spot. However, she had sensed the heat through the river and was curious. She was made entirely of water but portrayed the shape of a handsome woman. Within her transparent water form, rocks, debris and even the odd fish could be seen. Incendus rallied himself and grew to an incredible height.
A huge torn hole formed in the flames as a mouth and roared at Aquiraa, causing steam to erupt off her boiling surface. The river level dropped rapidly as Aquiraa grew to a similar size. Now began the battle of the Fire Daemon and the Water Sprite. Princess Eylon crawled further away to safety as Aquiraa pushed Incendus back in a tremendous explosion of water and smoke. An urgent bellow next to the princess and a badly burnt muntjac had appeared. The rem
aining cleric lay face down, burnt horribly and the princess realised that there was nothing she could do to help him. Karvu carefully helped the princess onto his back then galloped forward to join the other survivors as they fled through the forest of the Great Rift towards Aledran. It appeared that the battle for the forest was lost.
61.
INCURSION INTO THE GREAT RIFT
It was midday as the group stopped on a low ridgeline and looked towards the distance to see boiling black clouds over the pass between the foothills to Aledran. Lower than the clouds, billowing pillars of black smoke could be seen almost a mile wide. It was difficult to distinguish the rising black smoke from the black clouds as they merged together. Taegan spoke despairingly, ‘Aledran forest is on fire. Look below the clouds on the last of the open steppes, the horde gathers to take Aledran.’ They all looked and could see a mass of tiny figures milling about. They were far away, still at least half a day’s walk. Jericho growled softly, ‘our best chance is to get as close as we can and wait for darkness to find a way through.’ ‘But won’t the Ravens see us as soon as we get closer?’ Asked Red Whiskers desperately. ‘Maybe we can go north or south and get around them’ said Taegan.
Jericho interrupted, ‘I don’t think we can get around. See how steep the hillsides are on either side of the pass.’ They all looked gloomily at the entrance to the Great Rift which appeared to be on fire. Strange purple flashes of light could be seen in the churning clouds above, but no thunder could be heard which they thought was quite unnatural. ‘Your large green friend seems to have deserted us at last.’ Taegan said with raised eyebrows to Saniel. The previous day they had all seen the green giant leap suddenly from the marsh and swat Lavina the Wyrm Wood witch from her sweep like a fly. The giant’s sudden appearance from the surface of the marsh had given them all a fright, but not as much of a fright as the witch got. The giant and the screaming witch then disappeared below the black water of the marsh. The group then ran until they neared exhaustion, only pausing when they reached the northern end of the marsh.
Nothing followed or pursued them, and they rested. Now the following day, Jericho led the group on an angle towards the Great Rift keeping the low ridge between them and the sprawling witch army. They would try and stay out of sight and get as close as they could before dark. For the moment all the Ravens seemed concentrated on Aledran forest and circled above the witch army. Believing that there was minimal danger left in the moors, the witches’ were clearly confident in their position and did not anticipate any intruders from the west. The sun was setting; well, at least they thought it was. It was difficult to tell as the sky was a sea of whirling black clouds that put the moorlands into a dark gloom throughout the day.
They rested in a copse of stunted trees and long grass, well hidden from the air. Taegan examined the sweep he had salvaged from the marsh after the witch fell. The handle was wide and crooked and made of an unknown dark timber. It was knotted and pitted but generally smoothed over from wear and heavy usage. At the end of the handle sat an oval jade jewel, the primary source of the witches’ power. It was dark green, cold to touch and appeared lifeless. Threads of an unknown fine metal wove over the jewel to hold it in place. The brush was simple, made from platted tresses of long-dead mankind females. Red Whiskers sniffed at the sweep and jumped back. ‘Ugh, it reeks of evil and death.’ He exclaimed. ‘What do you plan to do with that?’ Taegan thought for a moment and then replied. ‘I am not sure, but I feel it may prove useful at a later time. I might even learn to fly?’ He added in humour. Nobody laughed however and Taegan coughed awkwardly to resume his study of the sweep.
Lady Strala sat on a crude wooden stool within a hastily constructed pony hide tent. A significant number of Grey Reapers surrounded her tent with orders to kill anyone other than invited visitors. She needed time to recover her energies after the taxing effort of enacting the Scroll of Flames to summon Incendus. Lady Ravyne had sent word from the north that she was on her way. Strala was satisfied with the progress so far. The summoning of the werecats and Incendus had the Aledran defenders fleeing for their lives. The raging fire of Aledran forest within the Great Rift would ensure an undefended path straight for the Vale of Aledran itself. The distant orange flare between the hills ensured that the Fire Daemon Incendus was still active and moving forward. The Raven prowler hovered above the witches’ tent looking down at the strange figures encircling the tent and standing motionless like statues in the cold night air. Plucking up the courage, he descended reluctantly to the tent. It was almost dark as a quick flutter of wings was heard, and a Raven entered though an entrance made in the peak of the hide tent. He landed then dipped his head respectfully towards Strala and waited patiently to be acknowledged.
The witch ignored the Raven for a short time, while she finished arranging an assortment of crystals on the floor of the tent. Finally, she turned and faced the Raven. Green eyes burned with intensity from a plump red face. ‘Speak.’ With nervous breaths, the Raven whispered the news to Strala of a small group of walkers approaching from the southwest that were moving through the cover in an attempt to mask their movement. ‘Go and send me Jeveran.’ With a quick flap of wings, the Raven thankful that he was not fried on the spot rose into the air and was gone. Several minutes later the witch Jeveran of the Night Grove Coven strode confidently through the lines of stony-faced Grey Reapers that reluctantly parted and allowed her through. Their heavily muscled arms ending in great hands with long claw-like nails hung low by their side like coiled springs. She stood in front of Lady Strala holding her sweep by her side. Jeveran’s face was entirely obscured by thick strands of greasy black hair that hung down the front of her. Yet she could see perfectly well as she spoke, ‘My Lady, you wanted to see me?’ Strala placed the last crystal in place and spoke, ‘Any news of Lilura?’ ‘Nothing yet’ replied Jeveran. ‘Hmmm’ added Strala, ‘I have a task for you that needs to be done tonight.’ Later that evening, Jeveran emerged from Strala’s tent and paced confidently through the silent lines of Grey Reapers. Dismal black eyes set within their expressionless slack-jawed faces followed her until she faded into the darkness.
Jeveran surveyed the expansive camp and muttered a word. With a quick rush of air, her sweep flew to her outstretched hand from the darkness. In the surrounding sprawling horde of warriors lay small scattered goblin fires. Handfuls of reavers huddled around many of the fires seeking warmth from the witches’ artificial cold. King Boorag sought council from his new mages as Shum spoke quietly with his lieutenants. The witch Jeveran called some skyriders and nightbirds to her and flew to the southwest. Strala, now left in peace, pulled a bound and gagged Falcon from a cage and placed him in the centre of the crystal arrangement. She then produced a wicked-looking black dagger from her cloak and prepared to consult her patron Daemon Dalgaith.
In the cold dark tent, Strala shivered. Not from the cold, but in anger. Dalgaith had told her details of Salum’s death and of Shum’s treachery in killing the blind witch Lilura. She would deal with this mancub, once she had learned what this Talisman was that he carried. As for Shum, she was sorely tempted to fly into a rage and destroy him and the entire Wildpack. However, at present, she was still weak and needed Shum and his brawlers to take Aledran. When the power of Aledran was at her fingertips however, she would ensure that Shum suffered a fate worse than death. She would also blast half the Wildpack into oblivion as a lesson in treachery. When Lady Ravyne arrived soon and heard the same news, Strala doubted that she would contain her temper once she found out about Lilura.
Several miles away to the west Jericho signalled to the others to stop. He could sense scouts not far away in low bushes, watching this approach. They would have to try and get by unnoticed, but he knew that Saniel did not possess the night vision or stealth skills of the others. Jericho crept back to the others to consult them on what to do. The nightbirds were now thick in the skies, and it would only be a matter of time before they were discovered. Red Whiskers sensed it fi
rst, a tiny noise similar to the hissing sound of escaping air. A distortion in the black space next to them and suddenly Shalia stepped out of the darkness. Jericho growled softly, and Taegan exclaimed in surprise. Taegan who knew Shalia quite well quickly explained to the others who this sudden appearing elf was. Shalia told the group of what lay ahead and what she had seen in the chaos legion. Including the witch Jeveran leading some skyriders through the area searching for something, which Shalia concluded was the mancub.
Shalia looked at this unkempt boy, who was dirty, thin with bedraggled clothes, and she could see it in his eyes that he needed much rest. She acknowledged the challenges the others would have gone through to get him here. After much deliberation, it was decided that she enact the Shroud veil enchantment. She required Taegan’s assistance to make the spell powerful enough to conceal them all. Shalia was horrified to see Taegan carrying the witches’ sweep around and wanted him to destroy it. However, he argued that he needed to take it to Bragus for closer inspection. They instructed the others to rest and stand close to one another. Shalia and Taegan held their staffs close together, and Shalia quietly recited the required cipher. The veins in both staffs glowed blue and darkened. A shadow darker then the night air fell over them. ‘It is done’ said Shalia slowly in a hushed voice.’ We must still use caution and skirt as much of the main encampment as we can.’
After two hours of walking, they passed close to a large group of rowdy goblin reavers. Some were drinking a foul-smelling black liquid as they yelled and fought one another, with others laughing and looking on. All were oblivious to the group creeping past. ‘They cannot see us?’ whispered Saniel to Taegan. ‘No.’ He replied. ‘Cleric Shalia has us in a temporal shadowy veil of distorted time.’ Saniel had no idea what that meant. They passed several more groups of goblins, hounds and some other creatures that resembled half mankind and half hounds. They felt slightly more confident as Shalia walked in the lead holding her staff in front of her like a fire torch.
Realm of Druids Page 41