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| Author | The Chronicles of skunder |
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Entry 10
The five had said very little since their brief talk. All the while they had marched through the Plains of Thurlmolan, coming ever closer to the distant rock formations. To the east, small villages could be seen from time to time, Cyrallin confirmed they were of her kingdom. These they strayed from, wishing to not have to explain the presence of the elves and a knight upon Thurlmolan soil.
They continued on through the plains for the day, passing through the fields of high grasses in silence. The reeds swayed from a warm breeze that swept up from the flat terrain. Still, for all their countless hours the rocky land was far from their reach when night finally fell. The five camped around a small fire, each taking a guard shift during the night. The horses slept tethered to a scrub tree just inside the circle of light.
The third sheet came and Guilm roughly shook Gilric awake. The knight jumped to his feet, still dazed from sleep and grabbed his sword by instinct. Guilm shot him a dubious look, “It’s your turn at watch. I hope you’re that vigilant during the night.” With that the elf found his place around the fire and fell quickly asleep.
Gilric stretched loudly, then threw a few dried kindling onto the weakly burning fire. After long moments of staring into the flame, he rose and started circling the camp, sipping from his canteen. Something seemed to move in the distance, far from the campfire’s light. He squinted his eyes, but nothing made itself known. He said to himself, “Nothing out there but the wind”, and turned to resume making his wide circles around the camp.
The forms appeared immediately.
Four massive shapes hovered around the camp, two which flanked the knight with unknown intention. The four rose up from the ground, towering over the still sleeping companions. The creatures’ lower bodies were wisps of incorporeal gas, while their upper bodies were wrapped in outlandish garb. Each held a large falchion in a single hand, an effort which a normal man would have difficulty holding with two. Still more disconcerting was that they had no head to speak of, instead only a cloth wrapping with a large feathered plume protruding from its center. The cloth seemed to be placed directly on their unseen necks.
“To arms!” Gilric bellowed, pulling his sword free of its scabbard. The others awoke, quickly reaching for their weapons. To their dismay the two creatures watching over them reached out with their giant swords, warning them from taking further action.
“Stand down!” The voice of Cyrallin shouted.
“I don’t think that’s going to work on them love,” Gilric said back to her.
She stood now, looking straight at the knight, “I was speaking to you Gil. Lower your weapon. They will do us no harm.”
“And how do you know that?” he retorted.
She sounded annoyed now, “Gil, they are Genies, protectors of my kingdom. They are bound to serve Thurlmolan – and if they wished to attack we would already be dead!” She stamped her foot into the ground as she finished her thought. | In unison, the great genies spoke, though the sound was more like too much air rustling through too small a space, “We are bound to Thurlmolan, and would not strike down the princess.”
Cyrallin flushed, spinning on her heels, “Be gone, return to your duties!” Immediately the genies departed, their wispy forms quickly melding into the darkness surrounding the camp.
The others looked to her with surprise and awe. Skyn’Da was stupefied, “You can banish genies?” Janneria carried over him, “You are the wizards’ princess?”
Cyrallin looked down, “Yes.” She seemed to answer them both. “Anyone of rank can do as I’ve done. But I had wished to keep my true identity from you, as you can imagine.”
Guilm had been pondering these facts over in his mind, “It makes sense then. When Gilric first met you, you were being pursued because of your … status. No doubt your attackers meant to hold you for ransom.” She nodded, though it was evident she didn’t wish to speak more of it.
Gilric rushed to her side, holding her with one strong arm. “That’s enough now. It’d be best if you all got your sleep, tomorrow we reach the rocks and you’ll need your strength then.” The group consented, each returning to their bedroll around the campfire and trying their best to put the image of the genies from their minds.
The following day brought further hardship. Early in the last shift the group awoke to the hissing sound of water meeting fire. A light rain had begun, wetting the group, their belongings, and of course extinguishing their fire. They decided to just start their day. Without a fire the majority of their food was inedible, so they shared a meager breakfast of wafer bread and sliced fruits. They began their march, hoping the rains would soon cease. Instead they heightened. The ground became a field of mud, the sky a dark shadow.
Hours later they reached the foot of the rock formations. They were set on higher ground than the surrounding plains, causing them to appear as a large tower reaching towards the heavens. Their grey sides mirrored the dark skies above, dreary and without life. The thundering lightning up above sent blinding white light through the heavens, which seemed in perfect discord to the black jagged cracks down amongst the rocks. They trudged on. | A weathered path wound itself through the rocky terrain, allowing the horses to be ridden for most of the journey upward. The path at times headed into the interior of the rock formations, and at others would skirt the hill side. At these times the group would walk one after another through narrow turns, looking over the hill side while torrents of rain pounded down from above.
At one such turn the keen eyes of Guilm looked out over the plains, seeing movement upon the ground far in the distance, many forms bounding along quickly in their direction. Another crackle of lightning ripped through the sky causing them all to wince. The elf tried to find the forms below again, but the rains hazed his vision.
Once more the path wound inward, coming to a sheer wall in the interior of the rough landscape. The grey walls were sleek and sheer, promising a tough - if not impossible – climb ahead of them. Painted black against the grey sky, rock columns rose upward appearing as roughly carved minarets. Gilric dropped down from his horse, walked forward and began testing the wall with a few hand placements upon the wet surface. After a few bad attempts he looked back to the others, “This is impassable! Are you sure your destination leads you up there?”
Guilm answered, “Why else would we have come all this way?”
The knight crossed his arms, indignant, “Well then how do you expect us to get up there?” Droplets of water dribbled down his face from the now lightly falling rain.
Skyn’Da reached into his memories once more, drawing back to when the Keepers had long ago come to this place. “There is another way. A staircase, well hidden – through there...” He pointed to a pile of loose rubble a few score steps away.
Gilric approached it, dismissively, then gave a mighty kick against the loose stones. The rocks fell away, rolling onto the ground and revealing a winding but steep staircase up to the tower-like formations above. The knight turned around astonished, “How..how…how did he know that was there?”
Guilm responded, “Lucky guess?”
Gilric stepped forward threateningly, but was cut off by Cyrallin. She moved between the two and said, “There is something about this child that we have not yet discussed. There is something strange about such a youth who knows the paths of a land he has never entered before, who strikes down gremlins with masterful strikes, and sees staircases hidden behind such rubble. Tell us then, what is this boy’s secret?”
Guilm stalled, “What secret?” | “There is obviously something special about the boy. You know of my secret; now, tell me yours.” Cyrallin stood beside Gilric, between the elves and the staircase beyond. Though they didn’t voice the words, Guilm and Janneria knew they would not be allowed to travel further without divulging the truth of Skyn’Da.
Guilm explained, “Skyn’Da is the last of his kind – a Keeper of Knowledge. His mind holds the memories of every Keeper that has existed before him, handing down their knowledge in explicit detail through an ability of the elves called the Death-Vision – a bestowing of their entire self into another being, though at the cost of their own life. He knows this place, because long ago, Keepers once walked here.”
Gilric’s face was squished up in disbelief or non-comprehension, while Cyrallin showed recognition, or at least that she was sympathetic to understanding. After digesting the information, she asked, “And what exactly have you come to do here? What do you hope to find up there?”
“That, we’re not sure. We were sent here to find a way to stop a plague of demons known as the Infernal Circle from raiding our lands and murdering our people. Skyn’Da recalled a book, written by your people, called the Chazr Daemonium. Our elders determined that the answer was here, that to stop them, the Keeper had to return here and he would find the answer.”
Cyrallin stated bluntly, “You come here with such blind faith.”
“It is all we can do.” Janneria stood up beside Guilm now. “It is time now. We must get moving.”
Cyrallin moved aside, motioning for Gilric to do the same. The three elves brushed past them and made their way to the stairs. Skyn’da leading. Gilric followed after mumbling something about “following the mission through to its finish”, with Cyrallin coming up at the end.
The rain continued to fall making the climb even more difficult than its already near vertical ascension. More than once, one of their number slipped, only to catch themself before dropping to the ground far, far below. At last Skyn’da cleared the final step, climbing over a low rim of worked stone. He rolled over the stones, kneeling in a wide open space at what felt like the top of the world. Around him the stone rim could be seen, circling around the entire circumference. Thirteen large columns rose up, as seen from the ground. From this distance though, Skyn’Da could see that they were indeed worked by the hands of Man rather than nature. Indeed, the entire chamber he stood in was a ruined husk of an ancient building that had once stood proudly here. It had no walls, only the element-worn columns that seemed sheered off at half their height.
Presently Guilm and Janneria were pulling Gilric with his bulky armor up. Skyn’Da walked around, stunned by the sense of wonder of the place, the cold rain falling down on him in thin waves now. | The four stood at the rim, lightly panting from the exertion of the climb. Skyn’Da continued moving around the open chamber with his arms stretched outward, staring through the pillars to the grey world beyond. A feeling of ecstasy mingled with confusion. He had made it to where the Chazr Daemonium had said to go, where he alone could find the answer to repelling the demon invasion. His arms slumped to his side, his head hanging low into his chest. He started to remember, ages past, the figures which filled this once beautiful but eerie chamber - demons, elves, humans. They battled with raking claws, slashing swords, and explosive magic.
Then deep in the recesses of his mind, he saw the flash. Bright red. Coming from the very ground. Shoveling a foot from side to side, he scraped away the mud in one quick motion. His eyes grew wide. Jumping to his hands and knees he began shoveling the mud away in large handfuls. There on the ground were the markings, as fresh as they had been all those centuries ago. Red. Glowing.
No…not glowing, they were pulsating. Radiating brighter with each passing second.
Recognition fell upon him…he screamed. “Get out of here! Now!” Too late.
The red glow seemed to explode throughout the ancient chamber, sending a brilliant glow up from the ground and into the heavens. It flashed once, blinding the four still standing by the stairs.
At last they lowered their hands from their eyes seeing that the glow was gone. As well, the rains seemed to finally cease, coming down only in scattered droplets now. The strange chamber they stood upon though was bathed in a thick mist that seemed to linger on the high platform. Thick tendrils of the unnatural steam stretched down between the tall pillars, as if trying to reach down to the world below.
Sight was useless in the impossibly thick fog. Guilm frantically called out, “Skyn’Da! Skyn’Da!”
A menacing voice sounded in the mists, stopping Guilm where he stood and sending fear through the four. “Skyn’Da – last of the Keepers – is lost to you. I, Anhkabar of the Infernal Realms take his place.”
The figure walked confidently, his large black hooves splashing through the mud and puddles. His entire skin shown blood red, massive muscles rippling as he made his way forward. Two arm-length obsidian horns shot out from his forehead, curving upward in protest to the heavens, as if in challenge. With black eyes piercing the still clinging mist he stopped only a dozen steps away. In one hand he held a full shield, in his other a double bladed axe, held prone at his side awaiting one of the foolish mortals to challenge him. | Entry 11
Like some magic spell, the steamy mist persisted in the area, wrapping itself around pillars and the legs of the figures standing within it. And then, the spell ended. The mists quickly fell away, dissipating into the very air.
The entire chamber was visible, only shadowed by the still grey clouds up above. Guilm looked around, scanning every small space. Skyn’Da was nowhere to be seen.
The demon Anhkabar mocked, “As I said, he is lost to you, elf.”
“What have you done with him?” Guilm said through clenched teeth, his hands tightening on pommels of his swords.
Anhkabar appeared unconcerned. With the mists now gone, the demon was fully visible, and all the more terrifying. His massive frame stood a full two heads higher then Guilm, his features were grossly exaggerated, sharpened fangs, pointed cheekbones, and staring out with black pupil-less eyes. He held the giant ax and full shield in his hands effortlessly, as if they were made of nothing more than the vaporous gases that had so recently disappeared.
Guilm screamed again, “What have you done with the boy? Where is he?!”
The demon laughed defiantly. “Foolish elf, you led the Keeper right to us, practically handed him to us bound and gagged. And we fully accept him as our prisoner. That is, until he is of no further use.”
With hate filled eyes Guilm spoke, his voice low and venomous, “Tell me where he is and I will make your passing as endurable as one of your kind deserves.”
Anhkabar explained with cruel words, “You led the child to us - placing him on our portal. Through him we shall claim ultimate glory over the elven lands, and then the rest of this feeble world. How arrogant the Keepers were to think they had once defeated us. We have been waiting so very long. Such fools they were to keep the very words it would take to undo their only hope. Instead of destroying your precious Keepers as we anticipated, we will use their memories against the people they hoped to protect.”
“We will stop you. The elven people will resist! Your return will only mark your deaths!”, Guilm shouted.
“You speak from ignorance elf. As is, the forces of the Infernal Circle make way to claim your land, and your precious council will do nothing to stop them.”
The elf shot back, “What lies are these that a snake speaks?”
“No lies, elf. There is no need for them anymore.” The demon continued after a short pause. “Did you not find it strange how easy this journey seemed? As if the child could find the answer to our undoing simply by coming here...and remembering? You were deceived, you fool! Your own councilor sent you on this errand to remove the child and then have you slain.” | Guilm reflected on the demon’s words, knowing they rang true. The quest was too easy, so amazingly simple. It now seemed so transparent, he thought, ‘Why come here when Skyn’Da could remember the memories perfectly from the elven lands. Though Skyn’Da had first mentioned the book, it was Akkarin who was so insistent on proving his knowledge, and so determined to claim that the Chazr Daemonium could save them. It was his very words which incited this journey, his quest, he who insisted Skyn’Da could save the elves, his traitorous ways which had brought so much hurt.
Guilm returned his attention to the demon, “If you speak the truth, then I have no more words for you.” Guilm raised his sabers.
The demon smiled widely, “When this is over, I will feast on your flesh and drink of your blood; your bones I will use to pick the meat from my teeth so your disdainful presence will not stay upon me.”
The demon charged.
With inhuman speed, Anhkabar raced forward swinging the massive double-bladed axe over his head. The fine edge focused on cleaving the elf’s head from his shoulders. But he misjudged the speed of elves. Guilm dodged to the right, rolled once and came up with this swords in a defensive posture.
The demon snorted. Two arrows were loosed from Janneria’s bow. Anhkabar raised the thick shield catching both within the heavy wood. They sounded with a hard echoing thud.
Gilric charged now, taking the demon from the back. Likewise Guilm jumped forward, hoping to distract the unholy creature. It availed little. Anhkabar spun, slamming his shield hard into Gilric, the knight flying through the air and splashing into the thick mud. Anhkabar continued turning, bringing the ax around to strike Guilm. Again the elf was too quick, barely. He raised his sabers to deflect the blow, both striking the axe shaft with reverberating resistance. The elf fell backwards, getting to his feet seconds later.
Janneria loosed another arrow which found its way in the thick leg muscles of the beast. He merely looked at her with a snarl. Behind him Cyrallin began casting a spell the words of her magic filling the air with a charged energy. Anhkabar released his shield, holding it at the rim instead of through the grip. He hurled it forward with massive fury crashing into the wizardess. She let out a pained cry flailing over the stone rim of the chamber. Seeing his fiancé topple over, Gilric rose with a terrified scream, and sprinted towards the cliff edge.
Another arrow struck the creature in the bicep, flailing his body back with the force. The demon bellowed and charged head down with horns aimed for the elven woman. Another arrow whisked from her bow, landing high on the shoulder. Anhkabar continued. Guilm slammed into him with all his weight, managing to bring his right saber down across the demon’s back in the same motion. A long slice opened there, but the elf had little time to glory in it.
Anhkabar swung. The huge axe coming in from the right. Guilm dodged low again, not expecting the demon’s speed. The brute hefted the weapon with two hands then, coming in from the left with awesome power. Unbalanced and unprepared, Guilm raised his blades ready to block as he did before. The ax head turned, the broad side coming down as a hammer instead of the cleaving edge of the ax. The elf couldn’t fend off the powerful stroke, the ax smashed through his feeble defense and then pounded into his chest and shoulder. He slumped into the mud, his head dizzy, and swords fallen from his hands. | Arrows hissed, demanding the demon’s attention. Each found their mark, one to the back, another to the thigh, the last to the stomach. None seemed to slow the creature. He ignored the fallen elf and smiled wickedly at Janneria.
Gilric looked over the side of the cliff wall, fearing for Cyrallin. He couldn’t see her body below. Then she called out. “Gil, help them!” She was holding on to the jutting rocks, just out of reach.
“No!” he answered, “not until you’re safe.”
Knowing the power of the creature they fought, she pleaded, “Go to them, I’ll be safe.” He didn’t move. “Gilric, if you love me, GO!”
The knight turned, his sword and shield at the ready. Guilm lay flat on his back, Janneria continued to empty her quiver into the beast, and still it came forward. Gilric ran at him with a howl, seeing the demon turn slowly towards him.
The ax swung with impossible speed. He barely had time to raise his shield. The blade crashed into it, spraying bits of wood, then continued into the knight’s now exposed arm. Blood sprayed, bone broke. Another arrow hit. Anhkabar bent low, towards Gilric, then butted forward with his horns. One impaled his thigh, the other his hip. The demon rose, swinging his head from side to side. Screams emitted from Gilric, but by now he was unaware of where he was, or what danger he was in. His body dropped to the ground, blood mingling with the dirty cold puddles on the chamber floor. Another arrow hit.
Anhkabar turned and bolted towards Janneria, tired of her stinging little arrows. Three bounds and he was upon her, another arrow sticking from his side. No doubt they pained him, but he was Demon, he had suffered the brutalities of countless ages in pits of flame. He swung, missing by a small margin. Janneria crept low now, her bow fallen from her grasp, a small dagger now held there. She struck, cutting at his hamstring, but the skin was too tough, the muscle too tight. A shallow cut appeared and served to only anger the demon.
He kicked out with one massive hoof, catching Janneria in the hip. Her body skidded across the floor. She jumped up in a crouched position, her dagger held before her. | She saw the demon coming closer, and also the form rising slowly behind him, shaking away the dizziness. He would come too late she knew, but she could bide him time. She crawled away, her hip throbbing with each movement. The form beyond was standing now, weapons in hand, but still too unaware to know. The demon smiled once, launching the ax through the air. It found its mark, buried deep in the chest of Janneria. She slumped to the ground, her eyes forever watching the form beyond move ever closer to her killer. The demon was bending down to her, no doubt to retrieve the ax. The form beyond comprehended. His mouth opened wide, emitting a scream she couldn’t hear. He came nearer, sabers whirling in a blinding display – hungry for vengeance. She felt the pull of the ax as it was removed from her body, the force raised her prone body, but there was no more pain. She watched as the demon turned to face his next foe, not knowing what anger he had stirred.
Guilm’s blades raged.
The demon tried to fight back, defend, anything; but couldn’t match the furious elf before him. He seemed fueled by something it had never understood or cared to learn about, empowered with strength which it couldn’t compete with, nor rival the speed of the elven swordsman. It had only ever fought for maliciousness and cruelty, feeble when compared to what now guided the elf. It knew nothing of … love.
A dozen strikes fell, each finding its mark, cutting thigh, stomach, chest, face - tearing into red flesh, removing a full half of one of the creature’s horns. Each strike demanding justice for the creature’s actions, for taking Janneria from him.
Before the demon had even fallen Guilm was at her side. Her breathing was slow and labored, blood poured from her chest, wetting the earth even more. Holding her head in his shaking hands, he brushed her long golden hair from her face, whispering through deep sobs, “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.”
Looking up at him, she inhaled deeply, thinking of the love she had always had for him but could never speak. “I need you”, he whispered through tears.
She smiled, exhaling and forever giving herself to his memory. | Entry 12
In the first few moments after the battle and the death of Janneria, Guilm sat next to her unmoving body. Tears fell from him, though not in sobs; gentle, knowing the best part of his life had just been taken from him. He searched his mind, relishing in her Death-vision, seeing the memory of Janneria, feeling the love she had had for him, though it remained unspoken. It became clear to him now.
A noise to the right pulled him from his thoughts. Hands appeared, scraping, clinging, and pulling their body from over the cliffside. Then the scratched face of Cyrallin appeared, bloodied and panting. Guilm leapt to her aide, gently placing Janneria’s head down. He pulled the wizardess over and looked to the knight. He was alive, barely; his chest rising in a slow purposeful rhythm.
Guilm looked to Cyrallin with desperation, “We need to leave. Too much occurs in the world while we waste time here.”
Her eyes spoke, revealing her resistance.
“Skyn’Da is gone to us. He’s now a tool for the enemy. I must get to my people before…” He couldn’t imagine what travesty an entire army of the creature’s he had just fought would do to the elven people. Cyrallin finally nodded her acceptance.
Together they managed to bring Gilric and the body of Janneria down from the ruins. Cyrallin offered a horse to the elf, for speed and recompense for his lost. Gilric wrapped his arms around her atop one steed signaling a salute of thanks to the elf, while Guilm lay the body of Janneria over his. They fled from the high lands.
Upon leaving the rocky grounds Cyrallin looked to Guilm, her eyes filled with compassion and determination. “I will take Gil to my people, there are some there who work great wonders of healing.”
Guilm’s face perked up hopefully. His thoughts falling to Janneria.
Cyrallin apologized, “None that can work such a wonder as that I’m afraid.” His face fell once more before looking to the West and his war torn land.
The wizard-princess followed his gaze, knowing his thoughts. She pushed down the feelings which fought to control her, to make her yield to her tears. At last she spoke, “I will take this news to my people, though I don’t know what my father’s decision will be. But know that my thoughts are with you Guilm.”
With watery eyes Guilm answered, “Look to your loved ones, tend to your lands. This plague will not stop at the borders of the Blooming Glade. Good luck to you in the coming days.” With a hard kick he spurred the horse into action, leaving Cyrallin watching him until his form disappeared on the horizon.
Guilm rode hard through the plains of Thurlmolan, not caring whether he was seen by guards or sentries. His thoughts strayed to Janneria often, of the many times he could, and should have, told her how he’d cared for. That chance was gone now. His riding was becoming erratic, blinded by tears and dizzied by the memories which he continued to draw upon.
He pulled hard on the reins, stopping so that he could clear his mind. | Moving through the tall grasses he started. A soft noise sounded near him. He drew his blades and made his way to where he thought it rose from.
He cleared the fields stepping into a large blackened circle of withered stalks and ash. Bodies lay strewn about, burned by a terrifying, intense flame now extinguished. Guilm studied the area, thinking now of what he had seen while atop the rocky lands. Through the rains he had thought he saw forms moving towards them, he knew now who they were. Though the flesh and cloth of the several bodies were well charred away, their blades remained and were the work of elven smiths. For some reason these elves had tried to reach them. But something else had found them first, something with devastating power.
Another sound emitted from his left. With blades parting the grasses as he moved, he made his way closer. When he saw the elf lying amidst the grasses he jumped to his side. He was still alive, though breathing the heavy gasps of near death. Blistering burns could be seen through the tatters of what remained of his elven cloth, covering his legs up to his chest. They would poison the blood in short time.
Guilm asked, “What happened here?”
The sentry sputtered. His eyes blinking rapidly, drifting in and out of clarity. Then he raised himself with his last strength, pulling on Guilm to come closer. “Akkarin…sent….” He was taken by a fit of coughs, then as if remembering his purpose, he screamed out. “The Keeper…in danger!” With that the elf released his grip, falling back to the earth.
Again Guilm found himself holding another elf in the last moments of their life. Though this time he didn’t feel the overwhelming sorrow he had as with Janneria. His mind didn’t swim with the many memories or thoughts of the dead and past life. Instead, he had lucidity.
“Akkarin.” Guilm spat the name out, feeling disgust by his betrayal; vengeance for his treachery.
Guilm rose, returned to his horse and sped away from the elves and the incendiary blast. His path was marked with purpose now, a vivid understanding that those whom he loved were lost to him. Skyn’Da taken by the demon’s portal, Janneria stolen from his fingertips, even these elves sent to save him and bring warning. All gone.
As he rode, he remembered his words spoken to the demon Anhkabar, “We will stop you. The elven people will resist! Your return will only mark your deaths!” Fueled by these thoughts he urged his horse faster, reciting the words until they became a chant in his mind that spread to his lips.
He came to the edge of the Blooming Glade, looking down upon fair woods his people called home since the beginning of time. In the distance plumes of smoke rose from the woods, revealing the fires which blazed through his homeland.
He drove his horse forward. | Entry 13 (Discussion: https://www.lordswm.com/forum_messages.php?tid=1847965)
Reaching the edge of the woods, Guilm halted his horse and jumped to the ground. Gently he pulled the body of Janneria off as well, carrying her to a nearby tree. For hours he dug until at last he placed her body therein, and slowly and regrettably began to bury her. When at last he had finished, he dug a hole just above where she lay and dropped a handful of flower petals inside, a common elven burial practice. The idea being, the spirit of the dead would be enticed by the sweet smell of the petals and return to replenish the earth once more. Having finished, Guilm sat resting on his knees, his eyes closed and smelling the rich smell of earth. For long minutes he wrestled with walking away, it would mean that at last he had to return to other thoughts, to the world around that was crumbling around him.
As he sat there, he caught of a glimpse of Janneria’s thoughts, the last few seconds she had lived. He knew her mind, knowing that she had openly and willingly died so that Guilm could live. So that he could defeat the demon Anhkabar, but there was more. She dreamed so much for him, believed there was so much for him to do, upon returning to the elven lands and beyond that. It was her wish that he continue on. | Determinedly, he rose. Then with haste he mounted and sped through the woodlands to his besieged homeland.
It was hours later when he came upon the first outland village. The first of the many plumes of smoke he had seen from atop the bordering hills. The smoke still rose from various buildings, the ashes of trees and homes causing a grey haze as he trotted through the streets. The crackling sounds of fire were dying out, but made enough noise to draw his attention as he passed. One promising thing, there were no bodies, whether demon or elf. Apparently the elves had given up the town freely, no doubt fleeing before the terrible wrath of the demon hordes.
He cleared the village, coming at last to the road that bent northward, to the capital city of the elves. He thought it funny now that his people had never cared to name their towns, never desiring to make anything stable or consistent. The elves were more apart of nature than any other race in the lands. They understood more than others that nature will run its course, and in the end the names and tales of a city can crumble as easily as its buildings. He looked back over the village remains, and what was left of the wooden buildings confirmed his point. Who would know of this town in a thousand years, what would matter of the name or its people if the elven race ceased to exist. Who would know?
The answer startled him, as if it has been hidden from him this whole time only to find it so close that it practically could be standing beside him and he wouldn’t have known. But then, the answer HAD been standing beside him. The Keepers! Why else kill them first? They held the entire histories of the elves, their stories, the names of ancient places, the knowledge of the demons from the first war long ago. The killing of the Keepers wasn’t random, it wasn’t coincidental! They had been removed first, so they couldn’t warn of the demons and their ways. But moreso, they had been killed because they could unite the people, and if they had ever won this war, they could restore the legends, the tales, their past. Without them, the elves would be like the homes of the villages – hollow, fractured, mere scarred shells without purpose or name.
The sounds of the village grew louder he thought and he looked around to see what the noise could be. Then he realized it wasn’t coming from the village, and it certainly wasn’t the sounds of flames and falling timber. It was war! And it was coming this way. He pulled hard on the reins causing the horse to rear up on its two back legs. They spun and bolted down the road towards the sounds of combat.
Carnage lay before him; apparently the elves had fled but hadn’t made it very far. The demons came up behind them, torching the village then flanking them as they made their way to a safer place. Guilm wondered if such a place existed in these times.
His kinsmen stood on the opposite side of a wall of demonic forces, outnumbered and with far fewer warriors. The elves having only a few dozen amongst them, barred themselves in front of nearly three times as many demons, defending their women and children as they fled northward. A small group of men led the women from the front, expecting a possible attack from that position as well.
As Guilm closed in on the battle a shrill cry sounded out. He spotted the imps now, a few left in reserve just in case others managed to come up behind the main demonic force. They squawked like carrion birds just before claiming their meal. | The three imps scurried up nearby trees as Guilm continued onward, his swords flashed dangerously in his hands now. He crossed where the imps set their ambush and the foul creatures jumped down towards him. His legs tightened around the horse, while his arms flung out to his sides. The first imp leapt out and was caught with two blades in a downward slicing motion. Its body fell with a hard thud. Two others jumped in unison from opposite directions. A saber pierced through the throat of the first one, the blade coming out of the back of his neck. His second blade hacked at its chest with powerful force, removing the creature from his weapon and into the dirt beside its fellow.
The last imp landed on Guilm’s side, nearly jarring him from the horse. As soon as it landed, its talons tightened, crunching into saddle and horse flesh just the same. With its claws it began tearing into Guilm. The imp’s feeble attacks sliced a shallow cut to his shoulder and another to his underarm. Battering it with his elbow, Guilm stunned the fiend. Then Guilm brought his sword pommel down on its head, stunning the creature and forcing it to bat its wings to stay atop the horse. His other pierced at its gut, cutting cleanly through its red flesh. Its screech was cut short as the ground stole its last hold on life.
Guilm could see the creatures which lay before him; the fiendish imps with their bat-like wings, the diabolic wolf hounds snapping terrible jaws at his kinsmen, large hoofed demons who made the bulk of the army, and a pair of succubi which stood guard over the ruling demon lord. The demoness stood behind the main line of fighting, ensured that she had won this battle but not willing to take part in the slaughter, by chance of being struck down herself. She was not as large as Anhkabar, but her skin shown just as red. Her blackened horns curled up from the sides of her head facing forward like some malicious bison. She wore a long leathery black material, exposing the flesh around the stomach and shoulders, and cutting off at mid thigh. In her hands she held a rod with a closed fist at its end and in the other a whip that periodically struck out against her own minions, accenting the commands she gave them from behind.
Guilm veered towards the demoness. The rear line of the demons drew closer, and the thunderous sound of the rushing horse caused those nearest to turn around. The demoness turned just in time to see Guilm’s large charger barreling down on her. She raised her weapons and voice in defiance but it was too late. The horse slammed into her, and she crumbled beneath it. Powerful equestrian legs continued to pummel her without mercy as it passed over. Her body lay upon the ground twitching, while her demonic forces stood dumbfounded. The succubi took wing to nearby tree branches, not wanting to be in danger should the horse rider return that way.
The other demons stared on, awed that their master had been so quickly defeated. They gazed in wonder as her twitching finally stopped, and her hold on them wavered then ended. Immediately many of the demons disappeared in a cloud of thick black smoke; no longer under the control of the demoness they fled back to the fire of Hades. With them gone the ranks of the demons dwindled, causing the demons’ morale to wane further. | With renewed vigor the elves felt the battle shifting in their direction. They struck back at the pock-marked line of the demons, hacking at demon and wolf alike. The demons were disorganized and unsure whether to flee or fight and their confusion cost them dearly. Guilm rushed the rear line of the demons; some still hadn’t raised their defenses by the time he was upon them. Again his horse crushed an imp too slow to move itself from the charger’s path, while Guilm sunk his blades into the back and head of a nearby demon. Guilm was then carried out of the immediate battle and onto the elves’ side of the combat. He turned, yelling at his kinsmen, “In the name of those who have fallen, kill them!” He charged back into the ranks.
The demons were more prepared this time, but still the horse pushed through them. Another demon lay dead from both crushing hooves and slicing blades. Guilm passed through the line once more expecting to turn around when just out of range. As he made for the turn he felt a powerful bash to one side. He looked back to see two wolf hounds trailing after him, their mouths hungry for elven flesh. The pair moved up beside him on either flank, snapping at his hanging legs, and worse, keeping him from returning to the battle. Each time he tried to swing the other would lunge for him, making this a quickly growing dangerous situation.
Guilm veered the horse off of the main path, winding in between thickly settled trees. The wolf hounds were forced to separate, biting at him whenever the break in trees allowed. But this opened his chance to strike back.
The hound to his left jumped forward, terrible fangs exposed. Guilm tugged hard right, causing the wolf hound to fall short. His swordarm raised high then dropped, cutting cleanly into the muscle behind the hound’s neck. The dog-like body took three more large bounds before its head toppled from its shoulders.
Already the other hound was upon him snapping ferociously. Guilm kicked it hard against the jaw, only managing to anger the beast. He turned hard left now, the horse slamming its hind quarters into the hound. The wolf staggered only a second then bounded after. Horse and wolf swerved in and out of the trees, the latter trailing behind the other by only a few steps.
Guilm passed to the right of a large tree, a low limb jutting outward over his path. With one hand he grabbed ahold, hanging from the branch only momentarily. Then he released, falling onto the back of the startled wolfhound. The beast, still running, tried to bite at its rider with little success. Guilm grabbed the tuft of hair on its head, yanking hard. The wolf’s head rose, exposing the under part of its neck. With his other hand he struck a hard cleaving blow cutting the creature’s neck cleanly open. The hound’s legs locked and gave way, its body landing in the dirt with the elf still on top.
Guilm cleaned his blade, gathering up the other he had dropped when grabbing the tree limb then returned to the battle some distance away. When he finally arrived he lowered his weapons, seeing the combat ended. His eyes scanned the scene. The two succubi lay at the base of the tree, arrows protruding from several places on their bodies. Demons lay all around, arrows or slashing marks tearing through their unnaturally bright skin. The elves stood encircling the dead demoness talking amongst themselves when he finally walked amongst them.
Their eyes raised to him, one, apparently a leader amongst them spoke, “And to you we owe our lives.”
Guilm looked to him, calling out so that all the elves present could hear, “If that is so, then I require your services. Those of you who can fight, you will join me. Those of you who can not, you will flee.”
With uncertain tones, one of the elves asked, “And where can we go that these…, these things can not find us?”
Guilm raised his sword, pointing to the south east, “Those of you who wish to, will go there, to Thurlmolan.” | Entry 14 (Discussion: https://www.lordswm.com/forum_messages.php?tid=1847965)
The morning sun began its ascension from behind the eastern horizon, bringing light, warmth, and hope from the oppressive night. Its strong rays shown over an army of red skinned demons stretched out in a clearing of trees just a day south of the elven capital. Their leader, a massive Demon Lord resided in a large war tent near the center of the field of red bodies. He, like the other demons, hated the strong rays of the sun, and cursed its coming daily. This day however, the Demon Lord’s curses would be cut short.
Entering the war tent had been easy enough once the entrance guard had been expelled – a three-headed dog the demons referred affectionately to as a cerberi. Guilm climbed a nearby tree, jumping down on the beast with his blades point down. With the force of the fall the blades entered the top of the skull and bore through completely, emerging out of the soft flesh of their throats. The two side-heads drooped downwards, weighing down the beast enough that the middle one just missed as it lunged for the elf’s own throat. Guilm retaliated with a dagger, grabbing the beast by the jaw, forcing upward and lunging the small blade into the beast’s trachea. It coughed up bile and then dropped to the ground with a hateful glare.
Removing the blades from the two giant wolf heads took an extra effort as they were so deeply imbedded. After pulling them free he moved inside the drawn tent flap, sticking to the shadows of the large room. The creature was sitting in an opulent chair its eyes closed, not in sleep but more of a contemplative meditation. This one was as large as the Demon Lord Anhkabar, though its frame was covered in thick bone-like spikes that seemed to grow at every possible juncture and hung over the bulk of its flesh. Even sitting the spikes could be seen along the demon’s vertebrae like some hideous feral creature of nightmare.
Guilm stalked forward silently, his blades rising slowly as he made his way toward the half-sleeping creature. In the last few seconds the beast’s eyes flashed open and Guilm charged forward. The demon raised his arms to deflect the strikes, allowing Guilm to believe it would be easier than it was. The elf’s blade struck a pair of hardened spikes which grew along the beast’s forearms down to his hands like some fierce animalistic claws. The demon rose smiling and Guilm took a reflexive few steps backwards. The demon came on snarling.
It struck out, using the spiky projection as a weapon now. Two bone-like projections passed just over Guilm’s head as he dodged to the side. He brought his own swords against the demon even as he rolled away. Again they found the bone-spikes, clanking against another pair growing from the creature’s shin and knee. He ended his roll crouched in a ball, swords upraised. He needed a moment to think, the creature was covered in the spikes, his body nearly formed from the hard material. His blades were only making minor cuts into the bone, finishing him this way would take too long, time which he knew he didn’t have. The demon pressed forward. | Instead of swinging the demon kicked outward, Guilm attempted to block it with his out-raised blades but the force of the creature continued on through to his ribs, his swords leaving only small indentations on the bone of its shin. Guilm however was lifted from the ground, and landed against the leathery wall of the war tent. The structure wavered from the contact.
Guilm rose quickly, ignoring the pounding in his chest. The demon was striking again. The spiky fists assailed him, though missing just barely with each swing. Guilm was steadily being pushed backwards, unable to counter an attack on the great demon. His back fell against a desk in the war tent allowing one of the demon’s strikes to land. A terrible raking feeling tore into his left arm, blood flowing freely from the wound. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer before another strike would finish what was started there.
In a moment of clarity he kicked off of the ground, rolling backwards over the desk. Just as he cleared it two massive fists slammed down on top, the spiky bones sticking into the hard wood there causing the demon’s hands to be trapped within. Guilm had his advantage. He leapt back on top of the desk, his blades moving with incredible speed, slicing, stabbing, and cleaving into the hard bones around the creature’s chest, head, and arms. The bones began to chip away with the succession of cuts, dwindling down to mere fractured pieces of bone. All the while the demon moved about trying to free his hands from the desk. Guilm placed his weight on top of the hands, keeping the demon from being able to shake or pull itself free. The demon tried to call out for aide, for more of its guards nearby. Hearing the call, Guilm swung the blade sideways, slicing a cut through the small space of flesh where its lips met. The blade cutting through the flesh of its two cheeks left the creature stunned, and looking even more bizarrely wicked as an unnatural smile formed on its enraged face from the slash.
The demon’s anger finally was too much to hold it longer. It burst free of the table, sending fragments of wood and Guilm flying into the air. Guilm landed with cat-like grace behind the splintered table, looking at the demon with knowing eyes. The demon was exposed now, the bone shielding removed from around its upper body. The demon turned, running towards the open flap of the tent. It was too late. Guilm leapt up and off of the table, a blade flew from his hand impaling the creature from the back and through to its chest. Guilm finished his jump, coming down with a two handed swing from the side, the demon’s head rolled free from its body.
Gathering up his weapons he knew that in the next few seconds the Demon’s forces would be nearly halved, disappearing back into the realms of Hades where they had been summoned from. He couldn’t figure out yet if the demons were forced to return there, or if those who did so left of their own volition.
He looked out of the tent flap to see the black swirling clouds appearing through the ranks of the demon army. Elven arrows were flying through the sky waiting to find their targets amongst the demons which remained. Even from his position he could here the battle cries of the elves which raced towards the front ranks of the disassembled demons.
The battle had begun. | * * * * *
With a dozen warriors from the first burned village Guilm had come upon he headed out to the elven capital to seek out Akkarin. He didn’t make it far until he reached the next set of atrocities. A score of demons had cornered a large group of elves; men, women and children. They were allowing the dreaded wolf hounds to slowly pick off the weaker ones with gleeful shouts of approval. Guilm and his dozen attacked, allowing the cornered elves to fight back as well. The battle was short-lived, with only a succubus watching over this loose band of demons they didn’t stand a chance. Guilm however managed to add to the number those who were willing to march with him to the capital. The others he again sent to Thurlmolan.
This continued as he made his way to the capital, demons attacking elves, elves fending for their lives. Guilm and his growing number seemed the only source of hope for the elven people, and news of their approach spread. Elven refugees flocked to him, while demon bands made their way to the capital to join in on the fight which seemed to be culminating there.
Nearly completing their march on the capital, they had found the city had been blocked by the bone covered demon, as if he and his army guarded the pathway against Guilm and his growing force. He was the sixth Demon Lord he had met, the sixth to die by his blades. He knew the demons’ weakness; that without the Head the body could not survive – the demons fled without their Lord. And he exploited this.
Looking outside the tent now he could see the elves overrunning the demon hordes. The demons were taken by surprise on two accounts. The elves had surrounded them, attacked a force thought to be much larger than the elves could muster, and they had lost their leader and those demons which had fled when the Demon Lord had lost his control on them.
Everything had worked beautifully and now the capital city was laid bare before them. | Entry 15 (Discussion: https://www.lordswm.com/forum_messages.php?tid=1847965)
Guilm squinted against the noonday sun breaking through the trees up above. The capital city spread out before him with its familiar buildings, towering trees, and well worn paths which were the elven roads. Apart from that, everything was bizarre and unnatural to him. The roads were teeming with demon guards, standing in prime positions to defend the conquered town. Imps seemed the common element, running errands for demon superiors, led by their larger and much crueler cousins the spawns. The wolfhounds gathered in the large squares and common places, lounging menacingly and snapping at imps and spawns which approached too close. From time to time a succubus could be seen moving throughout the streets, overlooking the defenses of the town’s takeover. The Demon Lords could be seen even less frequently, riding on hellish looking horses, escorted by great packs of wolfhounds and other demonic forces.
In only a matter of days the demons had taken the elven capital, forcing the remaining elves to surrender. Those few elves from the capital who were in Guilm’s makeshift army said the others had been gathered as slaves, though where they had been taken no one could say. Those who escaped fled with demons chasing them from the capital; those too slow were either captured or fell beneath the hellish hordes.
Guilm moved away from the bushes he was hiding in, slowly making his way back to where his army waited for him. When he arrived he gathered his captains to him, relaying the plan he had come up, then set it into action.
If the demons were expecting an attack, it would be during dawn and to the east, when the sun would once again weaken them with its first appearance. The elves decided to do what was least expected. As it approached midnight, the elves found their positions, and began closing in on the demon hordes protecting the western border.
The demons on the front began to look around, wondering what the sound was. It appeared suddenly and came on even faster. The whistling of several hundred arrows ended suddenly as the wooden stocks found their targets. Demons wailed and fell to the ground. Still others survived, calling out to their brethren. The hordes began moving to the west, abandoning their positions to taste the flesh of elf once more.
Before the demons could reinforce the perimeter with new able bodies the elven sword fighters were upon them. Led by Guilm’s captains, the elves tore deep into their ranks, coming in like a sharpened arrow. The demon ranks fell once more, though not without casualties form the elves as well.
Still the arrows sounded once more, aimed higher now, and targeting the demons meant to reinforce the western front. Rows of the red-hued creatures fell to the dirt, and then were trodden by their own as they surged forward.
The sharp sound of elven whistles sounded throughout their ranks. The sword fighters ceased and quickly made their way back into the line of trees. The demons, enraged beyond understanding came on. A single volley of arrows was loosed from the shadowy trees, felling those closest, and slowing those just behind the fallen. Wisdom was mute by now, they were fueled by anger and vengeance; the demons pressed on, coming to the edge of the trees and continuing further. Wicked creatures known as Incendiaries piled through in droves, scorching the land with their fiery powers. They crouched into tight balls, their body temperatures quickly rising and then flaring out to the nearby foliage. Bushes and trees were set ablaze, lighting the woods with a deathly light. But by then, the elves were gone.
* * * * * | Guilm crept through the deep root systems, dark paths, and tree lines that only an elf that had grown up in the Blooming Glade would know. He slipped into a tight space between a copse of trees on the backside of a surface home. Above him, more of the tree homes common to elves could be seen, their shapes nearly invisible to those not trained to spot them. A pair of imps slunk past him, chirping in their hideous tongue. He hovered there only long enough to make his way into the next thicket. As he neared the central square of the capital the number of demons increased, his passing would soon be noted and his plan invariably fail. He bent low in the darkness, hoping to wait out the demons and their tracking hordes.
Minutes later a wolfhound bounded past, startling the elf into a single slight movement. It was enough. The hound halted and slowly double backed, noting the sound just barely, but enough for its keen ears to pick out.
It nosed through the bushes along the path then moved along to the other side where Guilm had come from. It took a single step into the darkness there then stopped. its head turning fully around, sharp canines showing. It leapt back across the path and passed the bushes. Entering into the dark of the trees where Guilm still crouched. It slowed, pressing its nose nearly to the ground with each passing step. Propping its head up it let out a low guttural growl.
Readying himself, Guilm slowly removed his sabers from their sheaths. The beast’s ears pricked up, its head turning slightly to one side. Guilm could hear it now too, knew the time it would take the arrows loosed to the west to find their targets. He knew the horrible sound that awaited – the death cries of the fallen.
Seconds later, the first volley of arrows struck off to the west, the demons were wailing and calling out to their brethren. The wolfhound’s head turned completely, allowing Guilm the precious seconds he needed. He rushed out at the beast, slicing a long cut along its flank and drawing a clean slice up its entire side. When the wolfhound turned to him Guilm struck out with his second blade, slicing a long gash across the creature’s face. In full motion Guilm spun, landing a third strike and burying it deep down behind the ear, ending the wolfhound’s life immediately.
Even as Guilm pulled the body into the darkness of the trees, other demons began to make their way to the west. Hordes of the creatures heading off to kill his clansmen. The thought was nearly enough to shake him, to negate his plans and call for a full retreat now. The memory flash of Anhkabar dying granted him by Janneria steadied him – there was a purpose to this it reminded him. He knew his timing had to be exact, otherwise he would find himself in the middle of an entire army – secluded and without hope of survival. For those fighting off to the west, and those already fallen, he couldn’t let that happen. |
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