Month: January 2017

Boomer stood on the wide allure, the wall walk, of the Fane of the Setting Sun and looked to the east.

He took a long draw from his thick briar pipe.

“Youths just lack discipline. If you like, I’ll go give them a good tongue lashing!” the dwarf growled.

Knarra looked at Eyerthrein and Erinnia sitting near the edge of the forest, at Vanni and Kyrsstina practicing in the meadow, and at Dael watching Cyttia work out.

“They are doing what they should be doing. You have prepared for tomorrow. Haven’t you checked everything three times?” Knarra asked.

“Yes, but I should check four…or five. You can’t be too prepared,” the dwarf answered.

Eomore approached and added, “My old friend, you have dotted the I’s and crossed the T’s. You have checked everything. Relax and enjoy your pipe. We’ll have ale after dinner.”

“Aye…or two, or three,” Boomer laughed.

Eomore looked at Knarra.

The priestess’s snow white hair glistened in the late afternoon soon. Except for Cara, the priestess was the most alluring female he had ever seen. She watched Kyrsstina and Vanni.

“They look good together, Eomore. Maybe I see a future for our land,” she said.

“I feel strong. I see a future as well. My son Tarrance progresses well in his studies. Vanni is resolved to our quest. We have a great ally in Ooranth. Even the Drolls send emissaries to Ooranth. Bonds are forming that never existed before. I see the Dark Elves as a potential resource. Encounters with them are likely. We have never had the power of druidical and illusory Magick. We offer a diverse resistance to the Evil in the Lachinor,” Eomore responded.

“The Dark Elves have long memories. They tell their stories by the campfires of their reclusive lairs. We cannot allow them to gaze upon Queen Cara or probably Erinnia- maybe not Cade. The legend of the slaughter on the field before Detlor during the war against the Sorcerer of the Lachinor still graces their stories. They still smell the fires burning. You know the uncanny resemblance the queen has to the youthful Deathqueen- she was called Theandra then?” Knarra warned.

Cyttia quickly tired of Boomer’s minutia. She sneaked away to practice flips and leaps. She had not been satisfied with her efforts. She wanted to leap higher and kick stronger. She worked hard.

“Can you see any future for a female six and a half feet tall and a male five and a half feet tall?” Dael asked as he approached.

Cyttia responded, “Boomer is going to know we are not working. What are you up to?”

Dael said, “Oh, I just helped the romantic efforts of a star struck Light Sorcerer- maybe I should say an ‘elf struck’ Light Sorcerer. Eyerthrein wanted to impress Erinnia. I helped him gather flowers. I’ve seen my mother form them into hair bows. I cast Invisibility on him so he could sneak up on her.”

Cyttia jumped again and was pleased with her landing.

She replied, “Eyerthrein will be lucky if he doesn’t get a knot knocked on his head! You will be too! You know Knarra frowns on casting Magick without good reason.”

Dael offered, “I told Knarra that I would be practicing some spells. They are too busy to be worried about us right now. How do you do that?”

He marveled at the height of her jump.

“You got some skills from your father- your sneakiness particularly. I got some skills from mine. Watch your step, Dael Louffette!” Cyttia warned.

Dael laughed, “I thought Vanni was straight laced. You are the straight and narrow, Cyttia Uberroth.”

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning the latrines?” Cyttia grumbled.

Dael laughed and sat down on the ground near her.

“Yes, I have something to do. I’m going to sit here on the ground, smoke my pipe, and watch you sweat,” he said.

“Suit yourself! Don’t bother me!” Cyttia said, masking a smile.

Dael was rather cute- in a Drelvish sort of way.

 

“How…er, how is the spell coming?” he asked uncomfortably.

“I know the incantation for the Turn Wood spell. The spell is intricate and requires many sprigs of Mistletoe,” Erinnia said. “It’s less than two weeks until shortest night. I’ll have to harvest then in order for the mistletoe to have greatest effectiveness.”

“We’ll help you,” Eyerthrein said eagerly.

Erinnia said, “Thanks! You can accompany me, but I have to do it myself.”

Eyerthrein looked into the trees and said, “Isn’t that mistletoe?”

“Yes. I’ve gathered some. The most powerful spells require the mistletoe be gathered on midsummer’s eve. We’ll be in the Lachinor then. There’s lots of mistletoe there,” Erinnia said happily.

“If I catch you standing under the mistletoe will you have to kiss me?” Eyerthrein asked.

She gave him a suspicious look and replied, “You’ll have to catch me first. Now I must get back to studying.”

“I have my spell book. Do you mind if I study with you?” Eyerthrein asked.

“Be my guest. Just behave,” she answered.

The master assassin smiled. His glee was short-lived.

Tigarn became apprehensive. He didn’t feel…right. Heaviness…horrible heaviness in his chest. Breathing…so difficult.

Tigarn didn’t understand Wishes. He was an assassin. He was not a sorcerer. He attained surrogate use of Magick through cunning and intelligence. He was not a sorcerer! He was one hundred and fifty- seven years old. He had already lived far beyond his generation. The casting of a Wish drained the powers of and forever weakened one empowered by Magick. The casting of a Wish demanded the life of one not empowered by Magick.

Tigarn died.

The Death of Magick vanished.

The Magick of the Wish…

Red lights!

Blue lights!

Within the dungeons of Red Mountain a purple glow enveloped the Chalice of Mystery!

Levimire was whisked from his lair!

Faranzer was whisked from his lair!

Hundreds of families were robbed of loved ones!

Items and artifacts of Magick disappeared from the areas housing them in this world and others!

Time was no barrier!

Things long dead and extinct were brought into play!

OETHFPPE!

The world of Donothor and many other worlds changed.

The consciousness of Uyrg stirred.

The door of Infernos slammed shut and locked.

“My wyvern cannot traverse the Gate without special protection. The spell that would protect him would require several amber periods- I’m sorry, three days- to prepare. I require a steed; a fast steed. I must go to the Lachinor,” Calaiz continued.

“My lord, there are much better places to visit in Donothor. Let me take you to Hillesdale, the center of the dwarves’ provinces. From there I will take you to Tippy Rarrie- we’ll catch some fish,” Mobbick suggested.

“I don’t come to Donothor for sport, my little friend. I appreciate your offer. I would very much like to go fishing with you one day. My task takes me a long way from Tippy Rarrie. Have you a war horse?” Calaiz asked.

Mel awakened.

He stretched and said, “I just had the most wonderful dream. I was dancing with a beautiful Gray Elf in a bar in Cam…”

“At ease, Mel! You are in the presence of our king’s ally, the lord of Ooranth. He has honored us with a visit. Will you go to the farrier and get the strongest horse in our stables?” Mobbick ordered.

“Yes, sergeant!” Mel answered sharply.

Soon the young Ranger returned with a magnificent gray stallion.

“Dann will carry you well. Old Roscoe, the sorcerer, rides this horse from time to time. The sorcerer says the name honors the memory of a very good friend. Roscoe always calls the horse he rides Dann; he calls the horse’s rear Boomer. We can ever let our lieutenant know that. It would cause a fight. Roscoe and Boomer have always been a bit at odds,” Mobbick continued.

Calaiz tolerated the dwarf’s small talk but didn’t understand the comments.

The Draith lord said, “Thank you.”

He walked over to the stunning animal and commented, “This is a beautiful animal. Its rear is a lot better looking than the old dwarf you call Boomer. I just met him at my home.”

“Whether she makes it to her world or not doesn’t really matter. The fact that she was afoot in their precious sanctuary should spur the Elders to action. We have scapegoats. We’ll say the dead guard and trog enabled her escape by stealing your wand. I’ll report the treachery of the guard to the council,” Orylan scoffed.

 

“She has escaped the prison area,” Phynne surely stated. “The wand’s Languages Spell has been activated. She can communicate, but she won’t find a willing ally.”

“She had no trouble ‘Charming’ the troglodyte! Why didn’t you anticipate that?” Orylan said chastising his comrade.

“She beguiled the beast! It was a feminine thing! It wasn’t Magick! I can’t anticipate that! I thought the beast would rip her apart!” Phynne said, defending himself as he ran.

“How do you know it wasn’t Magick?” Orylan panted.

“She had no wand. She uttered no words! She had no materials!” Phynne objected.

“Magick! We should rely more on the sword!” Orylan puffed as they reached an ally filled with activity.

“Relax! Your worries are for naught! We have her cornered. I’ll soon have my wand back,” Phynne said.

The leaders made their way through the crowd and reached an open door to a drying storeroom. Several of their soldiers lay dead. Others pummeled the stacks of leaves in the storeroom.

The prisoner was gone!

The “Charmed” troglodyte fought with tenacity and propose. The Centurion Orylan had been pressed to defeat the beast. His comrade the Counselor Phynne had been stunned when his head struck the floor. Orylan cleaned his sword and muttered, “The troglodyte’s ichors befoul my blade. She has escaped!”

Phynne straightened his robes and grumbled, “At least you didn’t feel the brunt of her blows and suffer the indignation of hitting the ground of this prison cell. There was quite a bit of risk in what we did! We have endured casualties.”

The carrion of the troglodyte lay in the cell, and the slain guard lay near the door to the cell.

Orylan urgently asked, “Will she be able to use the wand?”

“The wand’s Magick can only be accessed by using one of the proper commands. It carries the spells Invisibility, Fly, Detection of Magick, Dispel Magick, Protection from Magick, and Jolt. Thirteen charges remain on the device. Once the charges are expended, the wand is useless,” Phynne panted as they ran into the hallway.

“Not even I know the commands!” Orylan puffed as they rounded the counter and ran past the cell containing the frenzied troglodytes and reached the stairs.

“Few do! The commands are revealed to one only if he reaches maturity as a Maker, Counselor, or Elder,” Phynne answered, trying to reassure the angered Centurion.

“I never meant to release her onto the population! I only wanted to spur the Elders to action!” Orylan puffed.

Large numbers of soldiers ran from the barracks to the left.

“Whether she makes it to her world or not doesn’t really matter. The fact that she was here and afoot in their precious sanctuary should spur the Elders to action. We have a scapegoat. We’ll say the dead guard and trog enabled her escape by stealing your wand. I’ll report the treachery of the guard to the council,” Orylan scoffed.