David Bishop and the Mystic of Creation

by T. C. Crawford

“My lord, I’ve received news from my brother in Ashmire. As you had suspected, he came across some travelers from the Northern Kingdom. They must have reopened the Southern Tunnel” said Jakob Zander.

  The deep growling voice of the wolf echoed his displeasure from his great stone throne. “Where are they now?” he asked impatiently.

  “They got away, my lord, fleeing to the North along the foothills.” replied Jakob, lowering his eyes.

  “Your brother’s incompetence displeases me, Jakob.” replied Bloodvayne. “My master has a way of dealing with those who displease him. Fortunately for you, I am a little more forgiving than my master. I will give you one more chance to find these travelers and bring them to me, but this time, you are to personally lead the men. My master tells me they are with a boy of great importance to him. He wants the boy alive, the others you can kill.” said the wolf.

  “What will come of my brother, my lord?” Jakob dared to ask.

  The large wolf growled deeply, indicating his displeasure at being asked a question that was clearly not his place to ask.

  “Your brother will be given the same punishment as any other who would fail me. He will be fed to my brethren as an important reminder to all who should think of failing me again.” he growled.

  Jakob bowed his head, clenching his teeth in anger. His brother had always had a way of screwing up, and now it had cost him his life. Jakob vowed right then and there that he would make the ones responsible pay with their lives if it were the last thing he did.

  The large commander of the Southern Wolf Guard stood from his throne and slowly walked towards Jakob, stopping merely inches from his face. He could feel the hot breath of the beast on his face but dared not move for fear of offending him by showing any sign of weakness – the wolves despised weakness.

  Bloodvayne pulled something small and round out of the cloth around his waist, handing it to Jakob.

  “What is this?” asked Jakob.

  “This is an artifact of my people imbued with dark magic. It will bring you back to Brineport quickly when you find the boy, no matter the distance. You need only break it when you have him in your grasp, and it’s magic will do the rest.” he growled.

  “Thank you, my lord.” replied Jakob, as he stood and turned to walk away, placing the small glass ball in his pocket.

  “And Jakob, I’ve always took pride in you, ever since the beginning. But should you fail me, don’t expect any special treatment.” snarled Bloodvayne.

  Jakob stopped for a brief moment. “Yes, my lord. Your favor will not go unrewarded.” he replied, and he swiftly exited the room.

  Jakob made his way through the pyramid-shaped desert palace to his men who were gathered outside in the courtyard. When they saw their leader alive and well, they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

  The last Guild leader who had a faction under his control that failed to carry out his task never made it to an explanation. Bloodvayne simply lunged from his throne and bit off his head in one fell swoop. The rest of his body was tossed to the other wolves and was quickly devoured. All that remained were the bones which were tossed aside for the vultures to carry away and pick clean.

  Jakob looked around the courtyard at his men, and they all gathered around to hear their leader, eagerly awaiting their next assignment.

  “We are to hunt down the scum from Ashmire and bring back the boy. The one with the tattoo on his hand. He is to be brought back alive. The others we have been ordered to kill.” he shouted loudly, to which the men all cheered.

  They lived for assignments such as this. They paid better, and they satisfied their need to kill – a need they had been trained to fulfill since they had been taken from their lives of begging and scavenging the streets as children.

  The Guild had given them all a sense of purpose that left their bellies full and their purses fat. Being in the Guild was a privilege for those who lived in the sprawling desert city of Brineport. It gave them power and purpose and the promise of a better life – something they never would have had otherwise.

  To those who weren’t fortunate enough to end up in the Guild, the city had little to offer but a meager life under constant threat from the wolves. Their wages were taxed heavily, leaving them with very little reward from their own labor. Those who tried to pack up and leave were never heard from again – the Guild made sure of that. Everyone knew that leaving was suicide, so no one dared attempt it.

  Brineport wasn’t always this way. It was once a sprawling metropolis, the center of commerce in the ancient world of men, but that was before the end of the war and before the Wolf Guard had arrived.

  Brineport was a city located on the great Southern River that flows from the Draconian mountains down to the South Sea, providing the area with lush vegetation in an otherwise dry, desert climate. It also provided access to an abundance of fish in the South Sea and a means of traveling quickly from the most Southern parts of the kingdom to the most Northern parts by way of sailboat. It was how the Guild moved so quickly throughout the kingdom and how they kept control of the population – as only the Guild members were allowed to travel by boat, just another means of control over the less fortunate.

  Jakob and the northern Guild members quickly gathered their gear and prepared the ships to set sail up the river towards the old mining community of Ashmire.

  When he reached the ships, he made his way to the Captain’s cabin where he set down his pack before greeting the rest of his crew who had been waiting on deck, keeping watch to make sure no one tried any funny business while they were in port.

  The city was not only filled with worthless slaves, but it also was sprawling with thieves, and Jakob never took any chances when it came to his things – he knew better than that.

  Once they were all on board and the dock lines had all been released and stowed away, the Captain gave the order for the fleet to set sail and they began their voyage upstream.

  With the wind rushing through his hair, Jakob finally allowed himself to relax for the first time since they docked. He knew his luck had run out with his brother’s failure to capture the travelers the first time. That failure had cost his brother his life, but fortunately he had been spared due to his position of favor with Bloodvayne.

  This time he would not return empty handed, for he knew that if he did, it would be the end of his wretched life.

  Chapter X

  The alarm bells rang throughout the cold, cloudless night, as the soldiers of Ravenfell scrambled to finalize their preparations on the frontline fortifications.

  With the demon army amassing in the Great Plains far below, they knew it would only be a matter of a few days at best before the enemy was at their gates. It would be their duty to fend them off for as long as they could, and they knew they were going to be in for the fight of their lives.

  “How are the preparations coming along, Captain?” asked General Ryan.

  “The walls have been built and reinforced, General. We have prepared the boulders at the top of the walls and doubled the archers on patrol. We will be ready when they come, sir!” replied the young Captain – a man from Eldergate who had fought with General Ryan and Erin during the battle to take back the city and stop General Krauss.

  “And what of the men, how do they fare?” asked the General, concerned of their morale as the demon army grew ever nearer.

  “They are well, General. My men know what they are facing and are prepared to give their lives for the protection of their families.” said the Captain proudly.

  “Good. See to it that the men are rotated so they get enough rest in between shifts. Once the battle begins, we will need all the strength we can muster, and there won’t be any time for breaks I’m afraid.” said General Ryan.

  “Yes sir!” said the Captain.

  “And Captain,” said the General.

  “Sir?” asked the Captain, turning back to his General.

  “Make sure you get some rest, too. You can’t lead your men if you’r
e too tired to think straight.” said General Ryan, concern etched across his face.

  “Yes, Sir! I will sir!” said the Captain, clapping his fist to his chest before returning to his duties.

  General Ryan had been overseeing the defensive fortifications for the past few days while they were being built. He knew that the walls would be their first line of defense and made sure there would be no gaps in their lines that could be exploited by the enemy.

  So far, they had completed the front gate and walls which were several feet thick and nearly twice as tall. They were built from the same hard stone of the mountain and put together skillfully by the local builders in the valley. It had taken them nearly half of the time Ryan had expected, which was a tribute to their superb skill and expertise in their field.

  Once the outer wall was completed, they had begun construction of several similar walls that served as additional barriers in the event the first would fail.

  All together, they would have a total of three major fortifications for the enemy to overcome before they reached the mountain pass. Each wall would be topped with mounted ballista’s and catapults, and hundreds of archers and soldiers, ready to rain down volley after volley of arrows and rock from above.

  Behind the fortifications would be the bulk of their army, ready for the moment when the integrity of the walls would fall, and the demon army would break through. The natural canyon between the two rock faces would serve as a funnel, preventing the whole force from attacking at once, and improving their odds of holding off the demons.

  If the enemy forces broke through these defenses, they would have to overcome a series of wooden, maze-like barriers filled with protruding spikes and barricades that narrowed down into a single, six-foot wide opening into the valley.

  The men would fall back through the opening and again use the narrow doorway as a funnel, hoping it would slow the approaching army enough to render their overwhelming numbers useless.

  So far, two of the three walls had been fully constructed, and the final wall and wooden barricades would be ready before the army reached their doorstep.

  If all went according to plan, General Ryan felt they actually had a chance in surviving the coming siege, albeit a smaller chance than he would have liked.

  When he was satisfied with the progress of their defenses, General Ryan made his way back down the winding valley road through the city and toward the castle of Ravenfell to meet with the others and give his report. He ran into General Owen along the way who had been tasked to check on the townspeople and their preparations for the pending exodus through the Southern Tunnel.

  Ever since the watchmen had sounded the signal, the townsfolk had been in an uproar, rushing everywhere back and forth trying to deliver their final shipments to the keep before frantically packing their own belongings for their journey through the Southern Tunnel.

  When the two Generals reached the castle gates, the large iron portcullis slowly rose and came to a grinding halt.

  Inside the courtyard, Rex and Orin were waiting for them, eager to hear the news of their findings.

  As they walked together through the main double doors and towards the war room, he told them of the progress that had been made since his last inspection and assured them the defenses would soon be completed.

  “Those men are something else,” said General Ryan, speaking of the builders. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  “Yeah, they are skilled with stone and mortar, having worked with it most of their lives here in the valley. I couldn’t be prouder of those men and I am sure they are happy to help with such an important task.” replied Rex, beaming with pride.

  “How are the townsfolk faring? It seemed like the whole city was in an uproar since the sighting of the enemy forces” asked Rex as they made their way up the large stairway leading to the second floor.

  “As good as can be expected, considering the circumstances. It seemed most of them were preparing for their journey through the Southern Tunnel and had already finished delivering their final cart of supplies to the storehouse.” replied General Owen.

  General Owen was the head of Ravenfell’s army and had been promoted to his new rank back when Rex took control of the kingdom after his uncle’s defeat. He had served with Rex during the siege of Eldergate and had proved to be a loyal friend and a valuable asset to the kingdom.

  “That’s good to hear. It won’t be long before the fight is brought to our doorstep. We need to ensure the people are ready and safe from harm before that day comes.” said Rex.

  “Agreed. We will ensure they are ready; you can count on it!” replied General Owen.

  They reached the war room where King Eldergate and several officers were awaiting their arrival with a series of finger foods to fend off the hunger while they finalized their plans for the coming battle.

  They all stood as Rex and the others entered, showing their respect for the king of Ravenfell. When he seated, the rest followed, and they wasted no time in assessing the situation.

  “We have a combined might of roughly twenty thousand strong, including roughly five hundred archers, fifty ballistae and catapult support each,” began one of the officers. “With the reports coming in from the men standing watch, the enemy has a force of several times that, and it’s still growing. Each hour more and more demons are pouring into the plains” he said somberly.

  The room was silent, each knowing they were facing insurmountable odds, but nonetheless ready to fight to the death if fate required it.

  The officer continued, “When the enemy strikes, their numbers won’t matter as much given the narrow pass up the mountain, let alone the pass through the rockface, if they get to it. My worry lies with the fact that their sheer advantage in numbers provides them with the opportunity to lay an endless siege on our fortifications, without worry of ever running low on men…or in this case…demons. Our biggest concern will be fatigue.” he said, looking around the room.

  Everyone seemed to catch on to what he was saying. With such a huge disadvantage in numbers alone, even with their fortifications, their men would eventually tire and need to be replaced by fresh troops. Eventually, this cycle would begin to get strained as they lost more and more men, leaving less and less time for each successive wave to rest between fighting. If the battle waged on long enough, it would only be a matter of time before their fatigue would overcome them and sloppy mistakes would start being made. The kind of mistakes that lose a war.

  “There is one thing that I can do that may help,” chimed in Orin, to which all heads turned his way. The old mage stood up and addressed the room of kings and generals with a confidence that only comes with age and vast experience.

  “There’s an elixir that can be made, if done properly and mixed with the right level of skill, that can enhance a person’s ability to focus – giving them increased sensory stimulation that can last for hours on end.” he said, to which several officers immediately went into hushed conversations with their neighbors.

  “But there’s a catch.” he continued, “Like all magic, there’s a price to pay. When the effects start to wear off, the fatigue that ensues comes tenfold – all of the exhaustion postponed over the duration of the elixir will come crashing down on the user like a boulder, effectively rendering them useless until they get at least half a day’s rest.”

  “This elixir, can it be made in bulk?” asked Rex, clearly aware of the usefulness of such an elixir if the timing were right.

  “Yes, theoretically it can be done. But I would need time, and a lot of materials” replied Orin, thinking it over.

  “General Owen, see to it that Orin gets everything he needs to make this elixir. Time is of the essence!” said Rex to his General.

  “I’m on it, sir!” said General Owen before marching out of the room with Orin in tow, meticulously listing all of the materials and ingredients he would need to complete the elixir.

  “All right, men.” said Rex, turning to the others. “W
e know what must be done, and we know the enemy we are about to face. Some of you weren’t there for the battle of Eldergate to witness first-hand the abominations that poured out from the Dark Abyss that day, but most of you have heard by now the accounts of those of us who were. I am here to tell you, none of them were exaggerated.

  “Our enemy is fierce. They are fueled by a hatred for humanity that dates back over a thousand years to the Mystic War of our forefathers. It was that war that left them imprisoned in the Dark Abyss, and now I fear they are ripe for revenge.

  “It is our duty, our privilege, to ensure they don’t get it!” he finished.

  “Some of these demons are almost dog-like, crawling on all fours with vicious teeth and fangs and powerful legs that allow them to run at incredible speeds and jump to incredible heights. These beasts will most likely be toward the front of their lines and will try to scale our fortifications to get behind our lines. We must ensure that doesn’t happen!” said General Ryan.

  “Others are winged bat-like creatures that are as big as a horse. They will be one of our greatest threats at first and it will be up to our archers to ensure they do not get beyond our walls to wreak havoc on our forces.

  “Their foot soldiers are much like the undead, they are easily dispatched, but are merciless and unyielding. They have no worry for their wellbeing. They do not feel the blade or the arrow, nor do they fear being sent back to the Abyss from whence they came. The best way to dispatch these warriors is to attack at the limbs and joints and sever the head. Without a head, they drop to the ground. Without legs and arms, they are immobile and pose no threat. Do not waste your efforts on these with jabs and slashes – remember this and you will fare well against this enemy.” said General Ryan, looking at all of his men.

  Some who he knew had been with him during the battle of Eldergate were nodding, remembering all too well the monstrosities of that fateful battle, and acknowledging his tactics. Others who had not witnessed first-hand the battles, stood wide-eyed and horrified at the descriptions they were being given, afraid of the enemy they would soon be facing.