The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1)

by David L. McDaniel

  “This is where we will camp for the night,” Alaezdar said when they came to a clearing next to a small brook.

  “But there is still light! We can ride. In fact, with Morlonn leading we can ride into the night!” Rivlok protested.

  Alaezdar stepped off his horse, tied it to a tree, unsheathed his sword from its saddle scabbard, and took a defensive stance.

  “Come to me, Rivlok. Attack me.”

  Rivlok snapped his head back in confusion.

  “Now! Do it now!” Alaezdar demanded again.

  Rivlok stepped down from his horse and turned around to unsheathe his sword. Alaezdar charged Rivlok while he had his back turned and pushed him to the ground. Rivlok’s sword flew out of his hand.

  Alaezdar did not attack Rivlok to harm him, but merely to prove a point, and even though the attack was not done to harm, he still felt the excitement of Bloodseeker coursing through his veins. It took all of his inner discipline to remind himself not to hurt Rivlok.

  Alaezdar straddled Rivlok and put a knee to his chest.

  “From here on out you must be prepared for anything. A gront almost killed you this morning, yet you still question my motives. It is time for some quick training, and we can only do this when there is light. We rode as long and as quickly as we could without ruining our horses, and now I need some time and light to teach you all a few things that may save your lives in the next day or two.”

  Alaezdar stood up, releasing Rivlok, gave him a hand up and pointed his sword at Tharn.

  “Take up your sword, old veteran.”

  Alaezdar taught them the same basic maneuvers as he had the children in the tournament. He taught them the importance of balance of the body and staying on the ready by bending their knees and keeping the soles of their feet touching the ground as much as possible. Then he showed them how the weight of the sword must be mastered in order for it to be used as an advantage. Otherwise, it would quickly become a hindrance to their effectiveness.

  He taught them to keep the sword close to the body and watch their opponent to try to calculate his moves to defend and to then look for open spots to attack. He told them never ever to lose control or attack in a blind outrage. He even taught them how to use the surrounding environment, such as the rocks, bushes and trees, for defensive positions, and to try to keep the sun in their opponent’s eyes if possible. Finally, he taught them the simple moves of thrusting, swinging and parrying.

  They all caught on quickly, but still lacked the many skills that only came with experience. However, with a few more hours of training Alaezdar knew they could learn enough skills to fight the crude fighting style of the gronts. Teaching them the fundamentals of swordsmanship was fairly easy, but the hard part would be teaching them not only how to defend themselves from an experienced swordsman, but to defend themselves from the demon woman and the magic of a very powerful wizard. He knew he was leading these men on a very dangerous and deadly mission, but exactly how dangerous, not even he really knew.

  They practiced until dusk rolled in and cast long shadows on them as they battled each other. He pointed out errors, but he also directed them how to fix their flaws. They kept going until the shadows from the trees were no longer, and then the pure night darkness prevented them from continuing. They withdrew their sleeping rolls, made a small fire and ate some fruit that they had brought with them from the village. They sat wordlessly by the fire and watched the embers glow and flicker before them.

  “How far is it to the Death Pass? Morlonn finally asked Alaezdar.

  “We should be there the day after tomorrow.”

  “Will gronts be there?” Rivlok asked.

  “Some, but there will be others there that are much, much worse.

  “It doesn’t matter what they are,” Tharn said and began shaking his head and pointing a finger at Alaezdar. “They’re all monsters and they mean to kill. Rivlok and Morlonn haven’t witnessed death like you and I have, Alaezdar, and I hope they won’t have to either.”

  Alaezdar nodded silently before he answered.

  “I am afraid that they will witness not only the death of these foul creatures, but I fear we may witness the death of one another. We may see ogres, orcs, maybe goblins, but I don’t know specifically what we are up against. You have all heard tales of the Death Pass and how it got its name. Most of what you heard are pure tales, but some of what you heard is true. Tharn is right. I have seen death. I wish I had not, but I have, and the Death Pass is only one of the places where I have seen it.”

  Alaezdar paused to look at the stars faintly shining through the hazy smoke from their fire.

  “Well, are you going to tell us about any of it?” Rivlok asked, nonplussed.

  “Yes,” Alaezdar said blankly and looked up at the sky for a few more minutes before addressing them. “The Vixtaevus Gap, or the Death Pass, as it is so aptly named, is one of the most beautiful places in Wrae-Kronn, but it is also the gate to the Markenhirth forest, now more commonly known as the Goblin Tribes Forest. This is where many tribes of the forest have set up non-stop watches for intruders. They wait, only to maliciously ambush them and intimidate them from entering their homeland. The pass is a mile wide, but the cliffs on each side tower the gap and that is where the beasts hide. The term ‘goblin,’ in this sense, is an amalgamation of all the tribes working in unison at the pass. This is the only place in the whole realm where they will work together without infighting.

  They shoot arrows, throw spears and drop rocks down at the trespassers, usually slaughtering them all or, at the very least, forcing them to turn and run to save their lives. It is not known how they can organize themselves for who watches the pass and when -- especially since beyond the pass they are constantly battling each other -- but the Gap has always been known to have at least one group on watch at all times, all hours of the day.”

  Alaezdar looked again to the sky and then back to Rivlok. “I was with Rager’s House of Renegades the last time I was here. Six of us went searching for the grimshaeds and had to pass the Death Pass to get there.”

  “Grimshaeds are real?” Morlonn interrupted.

  “Oh, yes, they are definitely real.”

  “Are they truly as hideous as they are in the tales we hear?”

  Alaezdar shook his head, a little annoyed to be pulled off topic.

  “Yes, they are…and most likely even worse than you can imagine. Most of the time, you will not see their true form because they conceal it so well within their cloaks, but if you get close enough, they will shed their cloak to intimidate you, as a wolf will raise its hackles before a fight. Their skin is wrinkled and deformed and looks as if they have been burned, melted and then dried. Their wrinkled head is bald, with the exception of a few strands of hair extending out. Blood and pus oozes frequently from random parts of their body, their teeth are ferocious and sharp, their noses are long and curly. The eyes of a grimshaed are deep sockets in their foreheads with black marble-like eyeballs. They carry all types of weapons for they have arms and hands like humans, but they also have long claw-like fingernails, like their beast fathers. They are the spawns of goblins that have captured human females and then bred these twisted creatures. They live in the dead village of Mervyyx, a once proud, functioning dwarf village that is now in shambles and ran by goblins and grimshaeds.”

  Alaezdar glanced at his three companions sitting around the campfire, but he eyed Rivlok especially to gauge his response to what he had just told them.

  “Anyways, when I was with the Renegades then, we had word that they were all traveling to the Goblin Tribes Forest and that the goblins had left their posts in fear. When we got there, we had found that not to be the case. It may have been at the beginning, but what we found we
re three dead grimshaeds and about five hundred ogres, orcs, gronts and goblins who had just massed together at the pass to chase away the grimshaeds, which they did. Amazingly, they only ended up killing three. The rest of them must have returned to home at Mervyyx. Of course, we did not know this at the time and wandered deep into the pass to examine the three dead grimshaeds. When we saw the mass of others gathered there, at the same time they saw us, they were still excited from their small, but for them big victory because even goblins are terrified of grimshaeds. We knew then that because of this massing we were in bigger danger than we could’ve imagined, even in our worst nightmares. In their lingering excitement, they attacked us for all that they had. We ran, but we had already gone too deep into the pass before we realized what was happening.”

  “Didn’t you see the massed goblins?” Tharn asked.

  “No,” Alaezdar stated quietly. “We wanted to see a dead Grimshaed up close for we too had only thought them to be a legend. But to see one…well, we were blind to everything else. In the end, four of my partners died that day. Only I and my close friend Shadow Blade escaped with our lives.”

  “But that was five hundred goblins. Surely we won’t see that many?” Rivlok asked.

  “No, not likely, but the one we see will be just as dangerous and we have to find a way to travel a full mile deep into the pass before we are through.

  “What? A whole mile?” Morlonn, now in shock, asked. “How can we do that?”

  “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth, but that day when we got attacked, I thought I saw a cave about half-way into the pass. If we need to, we can hide there and regroup to go further. But now we need to rest,” Alaezdar announced. “We will sleep until just before daylight.”

  “Why so much sleep? We need to keep moving. We aren’t on a camping trip,” Rivlok protested.

  “Yes, you are partly right. We do need to keep moving, but we won’t be here very long. We aren’t on a camping trip, as you stated, but we must keep up our energy. That just might be our biggest challenge before we catch up to Aaelie, for before we are done, you are going to feel like you need to sleep for a week just to walk straight. We will only stay here for five hours, and we will only have four hours of sleep tonight because we will post night watch. Rivlok, you stand first watch. I will take second. Morlonn, take third and Tharn, take last. So I suggest we eat some of the nuts and berries that we packed and get to sleep.”

  As Alaezdar readied himself to sleep, he realized it had been a long time since he had slept underneath the stars. He had done it many times when he was with Rager’s House of Renegades and it had always brought him peace, even when they were in the midst of some of their most stressful and dangerous missions. He had begun to feel some the excitement of returning to a mission like those that had been all too common in his life. Although he often felt the sense of being at ease from the camaraderie of being with fellow swordsman, he found that the stars calmed him in the night before a big battle or mission. He had always had a sense that helped him feel immortal and protected, but at the moment, but for some reason, it brought him no peace this evening. All he sensed was doom.

  How had it come to this?

  He had left an experienced guild to escape the violence and mayhem of dangerous missions and killing, and now he was leading three untrained men into a rescue mission against a powerful wizard and a group of battle-trained gronts. He had Rivlok, the hothead, Morlonn, the hunter, and Tharn, a wizened, aged veteran. He felt he could count on Tharn for wisdom and for some physical abilities, but his age would not allow for great stamina on a trek with limited sleep, especially after they’d reached the heat of battle. It made him sick with worry that he was leading a man of great stature in his village and of great past of experience to his death.

  He continued thinking and visualized them reaching the Death Pass. Centuries ago, the tribes of the Val Elves inhabited and prospered in this area. Soon, though, the Val Elves found themselves battling the Goblin and Gront tribes more often and that forced the Val Elves to be an aggressive race of elves, just to protect themselves. The Val Elves no longer inhabited the area for they had migrated north and made an alliance with the peaceful Sor Elves who lived near the Northern Sea. Though they merged with the Sor Elves, they remained the more aggressive race of elves, but even so found a common thread between them to coexist.

  There had been many tales of the elven artifacts and structures, hidden and exposed, that had been left behind by the Val Elves. One was the Elven Catacombs, tombs of great elven kings and princes and great warriors buried in honor in tombs deep within the dark underground tunnels. It had been rumored that the catacombs lay somewhere deep in the Vixtaevus Mountains east of the gap, but no non-elf had ever found them. Many treasure seekers had tried, but all had failed to find the coveted burial grounds. Now all that remained in the area were rumors and death, death to any outsider to this area who dared to explore it. The goblin tribes were quick to find any explorer, treasure seeker, or wanderer who came into these lost mountains and dense forests.

  The elves had later migrated into the deep west after the humans from the south had attacked the Sor and Val elves of the north and chased them out of their northern home. These humans were not the barbaric human tribes that lived with the goblins. They were much more intelligent and organized and even though they were individual tribes, they were able to organize under one very strong and dangerous man. This man, a distant relative to the First Human King, Dar-Drannon, and his daughter Traelyn, was able to organize all of the tribes together with the help of some dragons, and they attacked the elves and chased them out of their land, sending them on their migration westward.

  They eventually found their new and current home in the forested mountains of the Mollidennum Woods and Lake Quarterstar. They had been there now for nearly a thousand years. No human had bothered them there, in this new territory of theirs, because the humans had all been fighting each other and were not able to form a force united under the same banner. Only for a short time, eighty years, did they rule under one banner under the name of the Korlond Empire. Even that had been a long time for humans to unite, and they still could not prevent the inevitable for a warring race doing what it did best, war. They again split into two kingdoms, and then split repeatedly again, and have not since reunified despite the conquering spirit in every one of their kingdoms.

  The elves, meanwhile, were severely dejected to have been defeated by an inferior, human race. They had long believed that they were the superior race because since they had first merged, some of their elven mages were masters of both Wrae and Kronn magic and they therefore possessed superior magical abilities that no human should have been able to overcome. When they lost their battle at the Kingdom at Aalararae, they felt that they had taken a blow from their gods Val-Eahea and Raezoures, and they felt like they had now been forsaken.

  In their new world, far away from their homeland, they believed that any elf who died without the use of Wrae was placed in a forever-sleep in this land and was not allowed to travel on to their afterlife. Even though this was a dire predicament to be in, the elves -- having a lifespan of thousands of years -- felt that they had time to figure out how to get their immortality back before they were each to die.

  If they died in battle, however, their souls would then remain in limbo, lost in between two worlds, and they would become Wraeths. The only elves who had found peace in the afterlife were those who had died before the great migration west and were entombed in the catacombs. Those who died after their first migration to the north were still allowed entrance to the afterlife, but those who migrated west to Lake Quarterstar would lose all entrance to the elven afterlife.

  The elves searched deep within themselves, religiously, magically, and as a unified race, and reasoned that all the events that proceeded were but a planned p
rocess from their gods Val-Eahea and Raezoures. Even though it cost them many lives and many heartaches to leave their two previous homes, they felt – or at least they hoped -- it was all for the better good.

  Alaezdar remembered being told that the elves’ migrations had meant leaving their first and natural source of magic in the form of the Sippling tree, which was planted by Val-Eahea and Raezoures. Those elven gods had planted the tree to preserve the land through magic and to control the seasons while regulating the harsh cold of the frozen core of the earth, known as the Markenhirth. They also lost an even more important artifact, The Triestones, when they had moved from the northern coast to Lake Quarterstar.

  Once they had to leave the Aaestfallia Keep and remove the Triestones from it, they lost the connection through space and time of this realm to other realms. The Triestones were the magical source that powered the Keep, and it was this power that kept an open door for their gods to visit them without losing their immortality. Those who entered the keep could travel to other worlds or within this world, but in a different time. The Triestones that powered the Keep became a magical channel surging from the Sippling tree to the four powerful stones placed inside the Keep. The elves had been able to construct a powerful device to carry and house all four of the stones, which could not be separated if the the magic was to remain contained.

  Currently the Keep where the stones were once kept was now only a symbol of the once great elven magic. It was little more than an ancient ruin, Alaezdar knew. When the stones were removed, the elves figured out that their removal not only negated the power of the keep, but their absence also severed the link to the Sippling Tree, forever. The Aaestfallia Keep was now only a stone structure, empty of all magic except on rare occasions when a magical surge would burp through the Keep and the doors of time and other worlds would pass or touch Wrae-Kronn. Only those rare events proved that the Aaestfallia Keep and the Sippling tree were still somehow connected.