A Trip Through the Barren Valley (part 2)

It wasn’t long however, before their scent was caught and they heard the howls. With each passing second more and more joined in the chorus. Both riders gave the heels to their horses. Their horses needed no encouragement though, for their terrified neighing revealed that they knew what they were being chased by, wolverts.

As far as could be guessed, wolverts were a large mutated form of wolves and thus they were given that name from the time they were first discovered. They had a shaggy fur that seemed to blend into the landscape. The hind legs were overly-developed and allowed them to hop or jump at a tremendous speed for long distances. Their large heads had strong muzzles full of dangerous teeth and two large fangs. The poison from the fangs could paralyze even the largest of animals allowing them to feast on their live pray all day at their leisure and ensuring a long and gruesome death.

The howls turned into excited yipping. That was a sure sign that the wolverts were drawing nearer and had caught sight of their prey.

As their horses ran over the broken ground, Dritz gave Aedon a concerned look. “Our horses could beat them on flat grassland but not in this terrain. Do what you can to hold them off while I look for shelter. We can’t outrun them for much longer.”

“I will do what I can but please find something quick! I’m not sure how many there are.” With that, Aedon spun to face backward in his saddle, knocked an arrow, and drew his bow. While his father was renowned in the land for two handed sword play, he had favored the bow like his mother had and was quite skillful at it. He sighted down the shaft of the arrow at the lead wolvert and let it fly. It caught the wolvert between the eyes in mid-leap. It came down in a tumbling mass. The rest of the pack just dodged it and ran on after their prey. He let arrow after arrow fly and for each arrow there was a collapsing beast. But, for every one that fell another one or two took its place to join in the hunt.

“This way! I knew I had seen one somewhere near here previously! Thank the All Father!” Dritz lead the way to an ancient black building. They ducked down on their horses’ back while riding through the doorway just wide enough to permit the horses to enter.

As soon as they were through the door, Dritz leaped from his horse and had both scimitars in hand before hitting the ground. He ran to the entrance just in time to slash back the first head that came pocking through. There was a yelp but another wolvert stepped forward to take its place at the narrow door. Dritz fell into his deadly dance with his blades while managing to shout to his son. “Aedon, look for the lever to release the door to drop!”

Aedon looked around in the gloom. His eyes quickly adjusted to seeing in the darkness and he found what he was looking for. Over in a front corner was the crank mechanism for lifting the door. He ran to it and pulled on the lever. It moved a few degrees with a squeak before stopping again. Aedon braced both his feet and pulled as hard as he could. “All Father, please let this work!” The lever slowly moved with more squeaking until it clicked. There was a loud grating and rattling of rusty chains. Dritz jumped back as the door fell into place with a loud thud.

Dritz gave a sigh of relief. “That should hold them. Let’s light a fire and see to the horses.”

In the darkness, the only light available was a soft blue that emanated from one of Dritz’s magic scimitars. He went to his nervous horse and withdrew his fire-kit. Aedon came over with an old torch that he retrieved from a rusty iron sconce on the wall. “Here Father.” Dritz took the torch and lit it. It flared to life and cast a shadowy light across the room. Aedon looked over the room. “What is this place? I don’t like it. It feels …. wrong.”

Dritz had already cleaned off his scimitars and put them away. He fitted the feed bags filled with oats on the horses and sat down on a dusty stone block to catch his breath. “You remember the story of the great battle that happened here?” Aedon nodded. “Well, later a cult of necromancers, the Senarians, came here and built a few structures and temples scattered throughout this valley. They came for the seclusion to do their works in secret and the bounty of dead to work with. Most societies don’t smile upon that practice no matter how war-like they are. When the cult was discovered, the king of the nearest kingdom at the time had them tracked down and killed.”

Aedon stood there with a stunned expression. “Father, is that why some say the dead walk this valley? But the work of the necromancers should have long disappeared before now with their deaths and the passing of so many years since. I can’t believe that there would be anything left.”

Dritz took a drink from his waterskin, got up, and handed it to Aedon. “You are right. Normally, the corpses would soon be loosed from the spells following the death of the necromancer that animated them. The dilemma is that the remnants of the dark magic used in this valley allowed those necromancers to become masters over their own death. They are litchs, lords of the undead. I only brought us to this temple of theirs as a last resort.”

Now Aedon had to take a seat on the block. He looked at the floor and slowly shook his head to try to shake the thoughts out. “What are we going to do now? We are trapped in here.”

Dritz went to the back of the room to study the ancient writing on the heavy oak door there. “For the time being, yes, we are trapped. But once night falls, the Wolverts will flee this place. They have a fear of the undead too and will seek shelter in their dens. I intend for us to leave at that time before anything wakes up.” His eyes widened for an instant. “What have we here?”

Aedon jumped up and ran over to look at the writing. “What is it? You know that I can’t read the Old Tongue well.”

Dritz dusted off more of the plaque and traced the letters with his finger. “It says ‘Here rests Lord Atticus. He and his army walked in the Light and died defeating the Senarian Cult. May they sleep in the Light.’ It appears that when the necromancers were defeated, the Army of the Light made this dark temple into a sepulcher for their dead.”
“Father, I remember hearing old legends of the Army of the Light. They were followers of Lavariath, the God of Light. It is said that they had men, elves, and dwarves in their ranks and that they were dedicated to fighting creatures of darkness during the First and even Second Ages.” As Aedon looked a little lower he noticed faint runes burnt into the wood of the door. As he dusted them of he called to his father. “What does it say here?”

Dritz lowered the torch to shed light on it. He read it in a whisper and then let out a low whistle. This must be in the hand of a litch. It reads ‘Those of the Light cannot be raised.’ It goes on to say that a few of the litchs tried to raise Lord Atticus once. When he arose, he slew them and lay back down to rest once again. They fear these ‘Light Walkers’ even now. There is more still. They also placed any enchanted weapons in here that they have found in their wanderings in this valley. They did this as a precaution that these weapons wouldn’t be found and used against them since they have the power to destroy the litchs.”

“But Father, why would they put weapons such as those in here? Why wouldn’t they destroy them if the litchs knew those weapons were dangerous to them?”

Dritz stepped back and dusted off his hands. “Well Aedon, a strongly enchanted weapon is hard if not impossible to destroy. They must have assumed that no one in their right mind would come here. There would be less chance of the weapons being found here than scattered in the valley.”

Just then Aedon got his mischievous smile. Only he could smile in a situation like what they were in. “Should we have a look? You already have two enchanted scimitars but I wouldn’t mind an enchanted bow or dagger, especially if we run into anything else upon our departure.”

Dritz looked at his son and then looked at the door again. “Well … we are stuck in here until the wolvert flee at sundown. I suppose we could have a look. I refuse to desecrate or loot the tombs but if there is an armory room, we might see what there is. Come give me a hand with this.” They braced against the door and pushed began to push it open while Dritz added “be wary of any traps or wards there might be.”

To be continued…..
Chronicles of Dritz, vol. 5

A Trip Through the Barren Valley

The sun had just broken over the mountains, sending rays of light scattering through the vale. The trees filtered out most of it, but those that got through brought life into the camp. People began stirring and preparing the morning coffee. The sound and smell of sizzling bacon was soon to follow. The night watchmen came staggering back to camp with bleary red eyes.

Aedon finally poked his head out from under his blankets when he could sleep no longer. He saw his father already eating breakfast with a few close friends.

The Lady Rayne and Glendora were there chatting away. Pimpin and Moreau were having a belching contest as any good orcs would. Brave was sitting on an old tree stump a short distance away, quill and parchment in hand. He was always creating fascinating new stories to share when he wasn’t writing the latest news on the war to be sent by messenger. Princess Buttercup had left the night before to go back to the village and tend to her mother. Miranna was off exploring some obscure corner of the realms again. Sline and DSW were gone on a trip, working out the details on their recent business venture with Thine Dook. No one had seen Archon lately. He was probably of on one of his crusades to single-handedly rid the world of evil or in pursuit of his chance of knighthood again.

Aedon stood and untangled himself from the blankets. He started for the fire and food but stumbled over a root. He cursed under his breath and hoped that the circle of friends had not seen this.

“Are you all right?” called Rayne as Glendora nearly fell over the log backwards from giggling. This was not going to be a good morning.

“Aedon, why are you so clumsy this morning? Usually you are quite adept at sneaking in and getting the food before anyone else has had a chance to eat.”

Aedon tried to rub the sleepy haze from his eyes. “Father, I am tired. You know that I had second watch last night.” He gave Dritz that stubborn look that he had inherited from his mother to match the red hair.

“Ahh yes, I am aware of that. Maybe if you had gotten some sleep before your watch, instead of flirting with all the girls in camp, you wouldn’t be so tired now Son.” Dritz chuckled as Aedon turned an embarrassed shade of red. “Remember, we have a long ride ahead of us. Grab a bite to eat as I prepare the horses. We will be going through some hostile land so we won’t have any campfires. This will be the last warm food you will have for a few days.”

After stifling a yawn, Aedon stuffed a few slices of bacon into his mouth along with a biscuit. He would miss the hot meals and coffee. The weather had been getting colder and he didn’t relish the thought of no fire to take the chill out of his bones at night. He finished eating quickly and briefly joined in the orcs’ belching contest. He wasn’t in the same league as them but they always welcomed his company. He said his farewells to the group and went to see if his father needed help.

The horses were already saddled and their gear and bedrolls were tied on. Dritz was checking the horses’ shoes one last time before they left. The wild land to the west was no place to get a lame horse.

Dritz looked up from the hoof. “Are you ready to go Son? It is a long trip.”

Aedon smiled that crooked little smile of his. He enjoyed going on private trips with his father. “I’m ready. Will you tell me now where we are going? Why all the secrecy anyway?”

Dritz smiled back. “We are going to the Iron Mountain. We are to negotiate a deal with the dwarves there for raw metal, weapons, and other goods. I also need them to prepare a special alloy for one of my inventions I’ve been working on recently. We need to get at least a few shipments from them before the winter snows arrive. ” Dritz frowned a little and continued in a soft whisper. “We think there may be spies in our army and we wanted to keep this as quiet as possible. No use inviting more trouble on our journey. We will probably find more than our fair share anyway.”

A cool breeze kicked up to push away the remaining morning mist in the vale. Some of their friends from the CNTC came to see them off. Father and son said their goodbyes and swung up into their saddles to begin the trek.

As they headed west, the forested vale gave way to a barren and broken land. A great war had been fought there in ages past. As one army had started to win the battle, the mages from the other side had invoked a dark and forbidden magic in a last attempt to change the tide. The result was catastrophic. The very ground had been torn asunder and swallowed armed divisions whole. Those that had escaped the chasms shortly succumbed to the poisoness dark mist that arose. It snuffed all life out within reach indiscriminately, including the battle mages that had invoked it. The lone survivor was a courier that had been sent away with a message from the battlefield just minutes before.

Some clumps of grass along with a few twisted and stunted trees had returned to the land. The wildlife that inhabited this region had been altered by the lingering dark magic though. What was left definitely wasn’t friendly to the travelers. There were things much worse than deformed beasts though. At night, dead things roamed the land, continuing the fight they were in so many years before.

They both kept a vigilant lookout as they rode at a brisk trot. It was in their best interest to be gone from this valley before nightfall.

To be continued…..

Chronicles of Dritz, vol. 4

A Walk With My Son

The sun was setting, bathing the sky in a brilliant artwork of colors. Dritz lay atop a bluff on Lookout Peak scanning the horizon. This was the highest point along the southern border.

He sensed rather than heard someone approaching. “Aedon, your skill of stealth is improving. I couldn’t hear you coming this time.” Aedon was always trying to sneak up on him.

The lad came shuffling over with a melancholy demeanor. “Aww, Dad! Will I ever catch you unaware? I have been practicing by tracking animals in the forest. This morning I was able to slap that trophy buck on the haunches before he knew I was around!” he said as a look of pride brightened his face.

Dritz rolled over, sat up, and looked at him. Aedon came and sat by him. He had his mother’s mischievous smile that brightened Dritz’s mood whenever he gazed upon it. He also inherited his mother’s red hair and stubbornness. That was where the resemblance ended though. For Aedon was a unique child, being half drow and half human. To most he appeared as a surface elf at first glance though with a darker, olive colored skin, no doubt due to Dritz’s ebony skin. He had also inherited the pointed ears, slender build, and high cheekbones of the elves. This was attributed to the distant relationship between the drow and surface elves in the distant past. The stares of any who gazed upon him though were immediately drawn to the eyes. They were a deep shade of violet, just like his father’s.

“Aedon, the key to catching a seasoned opponent off-guard isn’t only with silent feet. A skilled opponent will have developed that extra sense. It is that feeling that someone is watching you or drawing near. To overcome this you must wait to approach until he is distracted. This can be due to him concentrating too deeply on his thoughts instead of his surroundings or something as simple as a rabbit’s swift appearance that startles him.”

“What are you doing here anyway father? The moon now rises and casts eerie shadows on the ground. Shouldn’t we be heading back home?”

Dritz looked at his son with a heavy heart and stood. “I have seen movement to the south. It appears to be the human-orc alliance mustering forces again.”

As they started walking back down the trail to the base of the peak, Aedon took Dritz’s hand and gazed up at him. “Father, why do they hate the elves so? What has any elf done to anger them and warrant this persecution?”

They walked in silence for a minute. “Son, that is a difficult question to answer. I believe that there are many elements to this puzzle. I will start with the orcs first. They are a war loving people and require little encouragement from the humans to do this. I believe that they are also bitter. The All Father didn’t bestow the same gifts upon them as He did on the elves. This bitterness can be seen in their own tale of ‘Why the Orc Fights’. For this most of them resent us out of jealousy.”

Just then Aedon squeezed his hand. “Moreau and Pimpin don’t hate us and we don’t hate them. How can you explain that?”

Dritz chuckled. “No, they don’t hate us. Though Pimpin did try to eat my hand once, but that was just part of an orc tradition of adopting a blood brother. The answer about them, my son, just so happens to be my saving grace as well. Have you not witnessed what most do when they see me for the first time?”

Aedon stopped in his tracks. “Yes, Father. They are surprised and scared to see a dark elf in their streets. I must confess that it has been amusing, at times, to watch their reactions. Especially that time when the farrier lost his grip on his hammer and it hit the mule he was shoeing! That mule must have kicked him a good twenty feet!”

“Aw, my boy, it may be amusing now but it wasn’t always so. The hatred and animosity to the drow runs deep, and rightfully so. The drow hate everyone and constantly wage wars and raids on the surface. I’m afraid that they have earned this reputation for the most part. I was taught by two great mentors however, that it isn’t your heritage that makes you who you are but your heart. After time and many valiant deeds, I was able to win over the trust and friendship of many, even being a drow. It hasn’t been an easy road though. I’m sure that Moreau and Pimpin have faced the same challenges and prejudice in their lives as well.”

“Mother wasn’t scared when she first saw you. I’ve heard that story many times.”

Dritz chuckled. “That is true. Your mother was an amazing woman. She was taught by Bruenor to look at a person’s character and not their appearance. When she first gazed at me, it was with a child’s innocent eyes and an insatiable curiosity. She was special. The world would be a much better place if all children were taught as she was.”

Aedon dropped his head a little. “I miss her.”

Dritz searched his son’s face for a moment. “As do I, my son, as do I. she was a remarkable woman. She hasn’t truly left us though. I can see a little of her in you. I can also feel her all around us watching over us.”

Dritz began walking again and little Aedon paced him by his side once more. “But Father, why do the humans hate the elves? You haven’t explained that yet.”

Dritz kicked a rock off the path. “That’s because I’m not sure if I fully comprehend it myself. It is much more complicated. First, I must point out that not all humans hate the elves. Many coexist in harmony in their dealings with one another. Some seem to be envious of our long lives while theirs is so brief. Others are jealous of the accomplishments that we have achieved in knowledge and the arts. Many, I’m afraid, are just plain evil and will do anything for money and Pork Pie pays well from what I’ve been told.”

They rounded another bend in the trail and started to enter into the deeper woods. It was very dark, but both father and son had the gift of excellent night vision. This was one of the only good things of having drow blood in one’s veins. Aedon was silent for a moment until he had to ask the question that all in the lands were pondering.

“Why does Pork Pie hate the elves so? No one has told me a reason for that yet.”

Dritz shook his head slowly a moment before he spoke. “I wish I could answer that for you but I’m not sure if he even knows why. He feels wronged by the elves and speaks of elves esteeming themselves above the other races. Unfortunately, it is true that some elves exhibit this haughty attitude, but that seems to be the exception and not the rule. It is still not reason sufficient to call for their eradication as he seeks. Perhaps it is just a mental illness that afflicts him. The world may never know.”

By then, they could hear the tinkling laughter of elves, orcish guttural guffawing, and even a cackle. “It sounds as if the Complete Nutters Theatre Club is performing again tonight. Let’s hurry to the campfire Father! I want to watch.”

They picked up their pace as Dritz spoke, “I agree Son. Perhaps I may play a part in tonight’s antics. It is truly one of the bright lights in this gloomy war-torn world.” With that, they broke into the clearing bathed in the fire’s light and received many a heart-felt welcome. They took a seat side-by-side surrounded by all of their friends. The feast was looking good tonight.

Chronicle 3