Chapter 17.
Galdrac had arrived at the outpost of Barilyn a few days ago, having lost several of his group during their travels to the strange creatures, that now seemed to be appearing in ever greater numbers. These beasts, at least for now, appeared to be moving about in ones and twos, probably scouting for strengths and weaknesses in the elven lands, and were much smaller and easier to kill than usual. Whether that trend continued, or the leader of the darkness was just using up his weaker, smaller, more expendable soldiers, he, like the others with him, was unsure.
The creatures, referred to generally as Balgraf, had always attacked at night, and although he and his men had managed to kill several of them, it had not been without some cost to their own number. Galdrac was convinced the forces of Abalyon were once more gathering, and it would only be a matter of time before a much larger, more powerful force appeared. This, however, was not a thought shared by some of the high-elves on their council. Whether they were just too afraid to admit another war was coming, or just naïve in thinking the forces of darkness would not attack them. Due to this doubting by some members of the elven council, making any large-scale preparations was difficult. While some supported the idea, they needed to prepare and brace themselves for an all-out attack, others tried everything they could to stop that from happening. The claims that Galdrac and people like him, mainly from the magical fraternity, were scaremongering and trying to panic the populace were unfortunately still prominent, especially amongst those in power.
It was not just the elves who seemed to be burying their heads in the sand, the humans and dwarfs were doing likewise. Both races were happy for small numbers of its army to help the elves, for it would surely be them who would be taking the brunt, should any attack come to fruition. The orcs, a naturally aggressive race, appeared not to care either way. If they were not squabbling with each other, they were always ready for a fight elsewhere.
At least in Barilyn, there were suitable numbers with which to make a good defence, should a larger scale attack come their way. The outpost town was built up on a hillside, overlooking the barren wastes that lay further west. With steep sloping sides surrounding its thick stone walls, access could only be made over a drawbridge on its eastern side. Dominating the skyline were its seven tall watchtowers, giving the defenders the ability to see miles into the distance.
The town was mainly manned by elven soldiers and archers, although there were a few dwarfs and humans as well as one or two orcs. Kept supplied by the local farms and villages to the east, Barilyn’s walls had never been breached. Built several centuries ago, it had remained defiant against the forces of the darkness, even when all the lands further west were being overrun during the last great war. Since that time, it had served as a forward outpost and garrison, keeping track and hunting down the strange beasts and creatures that appeared from the darkness. Up until now, those incidents had been few and far between as if Abalyon was just letting the world know he was still there.
Due south-west were ‘The Wastes’ a place that had long been the home of the race of trolls. Now nothing more than a barren, lifeless land, home to little more than rocks and the ruins of what was once a thriving society. As to why nothing had grown there since, had long been a question for debate amongst the more learned in civilised society. Whether it was something magical that had left its mark upon the land or the fact that it was from these areas the creatures from the darkness seemed to emerge.
West of Barilyn were the lands lost in the last great war against the darkness. Once home to scores of towns and villages stretching right up to the coast, and now home to little more than a few hardy animals and plants that scraped an existence. As in The Wastes, it was thought some dark taint had been left, but not on the same scale suffered by the trolls. These were once more areas where the beasts of the darkness emerged from, although from where and how nobody really knew. Despite numerous suggestions from various sources, as to how the Balgraf were formed, made or born, was a debate that had never been settled with any certainty.
The garrison based at Barilyn often ventured out westward into these lands, in an attempt at finding the source. Something that Galdrac himself had done on several occasions, and the very purpose of his latest visit. He, like many others, hoped that with the increase in activity, finding and spotting something of note might prove somewhat easier. Although druids shared a link with various types of animals, it was usually one of mutual respect. The druid and the linked animal worked together with the latter able to carry out tasks such as transporting messages. Once it was said that very powerful druids, in a long bygone age, could actually become one with the animals, they linked with. Having someone with this skill would come in very handy now, as having a connection to a bird that could scout the land and see what it saw, would give them a significant advantage; however, this was a skill apparently now confined to the history books.
As it was, Galdrac would be leaving in the morning with a dozen others, heading slightly south-west. The ride out would last at least a couple of days, and hence all supplies would have to be carried with them. The water beyond the elven lands was deemed not suitable for drinking, so even that had to be carried, meaning waggons would need to be used, slowing everything down considerably.
As he stood up in the westernmost tower, he looked out in the direction he would be heading in the morning. As the sun sank low in the late afternoon sky, giving it a hazy reddish appearance, he thought how eerily beautiful it looked. If there were dangers out there, he certainly could not see them from where he stood. He turned back to look at the outpost, and its array of buildings as the bell sounded for the changing of the guard. The two elves stood in the tower with him headed for the ladder that took them back down to ground level, where there would be two replacements ready to start their own shift.
Once back down on the ground Galdrac headed for the largest building at the centre of the outpost. Barilyn was, in all but name, a small town in its own right, although everyone living here was either in the military or had magical skills. The only exceptions were the two score of auxiliary staff, such as stablehands, cooks, maintenance workers, smiths and others who had the necessary trade skills to keep the entire place operational. These were often folk from other villages and towns looking to make good money. Often signing on for three or six-month contracts, earning as much money in that period as they would have done in twice the time back home.
The main building was in itself a well-fortified one. Built with thick walls and sturdy oak doors, it was there not only as the garrison headquarters but also the place to retreat to, should the enemy manage to breach the outpost walls. There were no guards at the door as he entered the main room, where three others were already awaiting his arrival. On a large table laid out before them was a large map of the surrounding area. Marked across the paper were scores of crosses denoting areas that had been searched and nothing found. Here and there were red circles, places where the group concerned had met some kind of enemy. Yet despite all the marks they still had no idea where the enemy came from, or if it even had a main base from which it operated.
Galdrac listened as an elven soldier, who had been on the last trip out, explained his group had come under attack just half a day’s ride out of Barilyn. So severe had this attack been, that he had lost almost half his men, and had been left with no alternative but to turn about and make a hasty retreat back, although thankfully, the enemy did not pursue them. “A sign perhaps they are not yet ready to reveal themselves or take on the strength of the outpost,” suggested an elven archer to his right. Galdrac nodded, thinking that it sounded likely to be the case. The elven soldier also had one other warning of note, “The Balgraf we encountered appeared bigger and stronger than the ones you described on your way in Galdrac. Much harder to kill.” Furthermore, he was also told that the elven archers had struck several beasts numerous times, but that had not stopped them. “Many carried on attacking with a dozen or more arrow shafts hang
ing out of them,” the soldier added.
The human mage and his travelling companions would be venturing out very close to where the previous expedition had been attacked. To avoid a repeat, Galdrac as the man in charge of the group pointed to a slightly different route on the map. After running his finger along the line denoting a dry riverbed, he looked around the room for approval, or more importantly any objectors. As there were none he moved on to his next idea, “I want us to camp up during the day. I have plotted several possible points, here, here and here,” he added pointing to some caves.
“We don’t know what’s in those caves,” came the first objecting voice.
“I Guess we’ll find out,” Galdrac replied dryly before continuing with his plan.
“If we leave during the early hours, we can make this first set of caves before sunrise, the men and horses can rest then.”
“What about the waggons? They won’t fit in the caves,” came the same dissenting voice again.
“We unload them and use them to block the entrances, that way our supplies stay safe and nothing can wander inadvertently in,” Galdrac replied again, trying to remain calm, despite this particular elf already starting to annoy him.
There was a short silence in the room as Galdrac looked around the other faces at the table. Although expecting more objections he was surprised when at least one supported his different approach. “Perhaps we will learn more, moving at night. Maybe the forces of darkness are doing likewise. You realise if that is the case you may actually be in more danger?”
Galdrac nodded, “Perhaps. We will just have to be very vigilant.”
On leaving the room, Galdrac decided to check in on his team, and let them know what he was planning. They would likely benefit from getting something to eat now and have a few hours’ rest because once the sun was down and night set in, he wanted to make his move.
Chapter 18.
Galdrac trotted his horse over the wooden drawbridge, leading his group out of Barilyn and the safety within. No sooner were they out, when he turned to see the bridge quickly raised back up. From now on he was once again reliant on the skills of his men to stay alive, with vigilance being the ultimate one. After turning left off the main track, they headed down the slope and out of what was now deemed elven lands.
Within just a few minutes they had manoeuvred down the slopes that gave Barilyn its defensive, elevated position. The night sky was clear, meaning the plethora of stars were visible, as well a quarter moon, which at least gave them some modicum of light by which to see their way forward.
This land was strange and surreal. There were no sounds, or calls of animals that came to life at night, as there would be elsewhere. Here the only noise was that which they made themselves, the soft drumming of horse’s hooves and the creaking of the waggons as they rolled over the rocky ground. Galdrac glanced back to see the lights of Barilyn fading in the distance behind him, and knew from here on in anything could happen.
Galdrac knew where he needed to be before sunrise, and while he had plenty of time to get there, he was also aware that any encounters with the enemy would hold him up. Treating it as he would a daytime mission, he immediately sent two of his elven archers ahead of the group, with the instructions they were to remain close by. The further ahead they scouted the longer it would take for them to come back and warn of any dangers if they found them. More importantly, though, it would also reduce the risk of them getting separated too far from the main group, should trouble be forthcoming.
After two hours, and several short excursions forward of the main group, the two scouts came back with unwelcome news. Fortunately, as Galdrac had decided to navigate and travel along an old river bed, he was not about to head straight into immediate danger. However, that did not mean he was not at risk, as the elven scout pointed southwards, “We can see several dark shapes heading east. They did not spot us,” he said.
Galdrac now had two choices. He either cut these creatures off in their path and attacked them, or let them move past his position. While attacking would have probably been the standard protocol in such circumstances, Galdrac ordered his group to stop and let the enemy pass. Although it was evident, one or two did not agree, stating they were allowing these creatures to pass by, and possibly be letting them run wild in elven lands further east. While that was probably going to be the case, he knew fighting now, at night time, would not only prove difficult but would also give their position away to any other enemy lurking about within a five-mile radius.
Despite the dissenting voices, Galdrac remained firm in his resolve and ordered his group to cease moving and remain silent. If the creatures of darkness discovered he was there, they would surely attack, something he did not want, at least not yet. Having his two scouts check the movement of the creatures, they had an anxious ten-minute wait while they passed by. Only when Galdrac was satisfied the beasts were long gone from view did he order the group forward again.
Following the course of the old riverbed, the route naturally had far more twists and turns than normal, but being lower down than the surrounding lands at least kept them from view. After pausing briefly to give the horses a short break, and for themselves to take on board some light refreshment, they made real progress. With the scouts returning at regular intervals and all reporting nothing of note, the first of the caves neared.
Set several hundred yards away from the empty riverbed, the cave entrances were set into a small rock formation. To get there, they would have to divert slightly from their path, firstly having to go slightly further away from they needed to be, to where the old riverbank was less steep. Once up onto the flat of the land, they headed for the rocky outcrop and towards the cave entrance. With the moon still prominent in the night sky, and dawn still a few hours off, he felt pleased with the progress they had made.
As planned, he had the supplies unloaded, and the two waggons wheeled in front of the cave entrance. The horses had to be filed in one at a time, and although a few of them were unsure about squeezing in through the narrow opening, they all made it in. The cave entrance may have been barely wide enough, but once inside it opened out into quite a large area, where there was ample room for all. Light in the cave was provided by oil burning lamps, as opposed to any magical means, although only used for a short time while they got everything and everybody inside.
With a couple of guards at the entrance, the rest would eat and sleep further in the cave. Before any of that could happen the horses needed to be fed, watered and brushed down. Several bags of mixed grains being carried on one of the waggons, were opened up to feed the horses, along with buckets of water poured from the two large casks they had to transport with them. Taking care of the horses was even more important out here, as they, like all creatures, found being in the tainted lands somewhat unsettling.
With guards changing every couple of hours to give everybody a good rest, Galdrac settled down to sleep. Despite it getting light outside, the cave was nice and dark making it somewhat easier. Despite only having a cloak to lie down on, the world of dreams came easily to him.
Quite how long he had slept, he was unsure, but most of the others were still resting. After sitting up and just staring out into the darkness of the cave for a little while, he decided to get up and do a little exploring. These caves had obviously been here for thousands of years and stretched far further back than he could see. He stood and as quietly as he could, grabbed his staff and a lamp. After helping himself to a quick drink of water, and grabbing a piece of fruit, he lit the lamp and headed towards the back of the cave.
The larger open space they were utilising narrowed considerably, and at first, he thought his exploration would be a very short one. However, he noticed another tunnel just a little further to his left, one much more suited to walking, and so took that one instead. After several twists and turns and the feeling of the ground sloping forever down, the cave opened out once more to another larger space, albeit not as high as the one they were using
further back.
The cave seemed to slope down much more steeply from here, and while he was confident he would not get lost, he did not wish to travel to far from the main group. Instead, Galdrac placed his lamp down and held his staff in two hands, creating a small ball of fire, which he sent soaring across the cave. The fireball travelled slowly as he wished it to do, and lit up the area around it as it went. From what he could tell the cave seemed to go on much further, but something else a little closer had caught his eye.
He picked the lamp up again and stepped several paces over to his right, before crouching down. Slumped up against the cave wall were two corpses. No more than bones and rags now, he was intrigued as to what they were doing here. He looked about the cave floor for any more clues and spotted a discarded shield, and a spear head, with what remained of the shaft still attached. Clearly, these remains had been here some time, and closer inspection of the bones revealed an even greater surprise.
“Trolls” he muttered to himself, meaning these bones had probably remained here for several centuries, long before the last great war. Perhaps preserved by the dry air and darkness of the cave, he could make out the remains of what he thought was a uniform, indicating these two trolls had probably been involved in some fighting. The slightly larger skulls and the unmistakable arching spine of the troll were all evident for him to see, as he tried to imagine the story of how they had ended up here. Perhaps they had been injured in battle and taken refuge in the caves, before succumbing to their wounds. Yet they must have taken refuge here when these elven lands were still fertile, long before the last war that had tainted them. As to the reason why two trolls had wandered this far north eluded him, and the fact they had remained undiscovered for so long, even more so. He looked around but could see no indication that there had been any fighting inside the cave, adding further evidence to his original assumption.
Return of the Darkness Page 13