by Jordan Cramm
And then, another eerie laugh. The tendrils suddenly fell away and the platform was covered in smoke. When it cleared the only thing that remained was Mortican. His blood that had been spilled earlier, was gone entirely. He stood slowly and stretched. Now that his work on the platform was done, he had no need to suffer the trials of the platform again, and he had no intention of giving up anymore blood. He was already weaker than he felt comfortable being. If he hadn't been a Vampire, he would not have survived the platform at all, and many were the victims who climbed to its top, only to hear from their God directly one time, and then die—right there on the platform. Mortican however was stronger than that.
He crouched down for a moment before taking a leap into the air that was over 40 feet high. In the air, he propelled himself forward with a flip and a levitation spell that he manipulated so that he was nearly flying. He landed 20 feet away from the platform and straightened his uniform around his chest as he touched down. His eyes gleamed. He needed to feed and replenish his energy. His boots, and his leggings were shredded all the way up to his knees. When the platform reacted to his presence, it did so violently, creating otherwise mortal wounds, slicing, ripping, cutting and even cracking bones. But Mortican healed quickly.
For one thing, he was a Vampire. That in itself made him hard to kill. He had natural healing and regenerative properties because of that fact too, and those factors along with his magic allowed him to survive the platform that would claim the lives of mortal men. He was anything but normal though. He was in fact, a child of the evil God Kelnazek. His methods were ruthless, his tactics were brilliant. He was a dominant force and while it was true that most of Fengysha believed him to no longer exist, they knew that the Eloxin Isles were evil, and most kept their distance. To the brave few who came to the Eloxin Isles for hunting and questing—often came great treasures and tales of hard fought battles. But tonight, some unlucky person or group would face the wrath of a God's child. Mortican needed to feed. And he was determined to find his prey.
He was already close to the coastline when he began his journey earlier in the night. Now, the moons of Fengysha were high in the sky and casting their glow upon the land. Oceanic waves crashed against the shore of the rocky beach. But more inland, large fires were aglow on the beach. Fiddles played in the distance; Mortican could hear the sound. He knew that a party of warriors must be on the beach, prepared to leave and awaiting their dingy boats to get them. The fires they kept—they were to guide the way for their ships at sea. The music—that was to make the mood cheerful so that they could leave the Tendra Isle with higher spirits than they likely had during their stay. Mortican grinned.
His wrath was quick. His agility was as fast as lightning in such situations. First a Human male. Then female, a Dwarven male, then another, and finally an Izenian male. A hunting party.
Now they were the prey. Their bodies lifeless around their fires. No more music. Only the burning fire. The Izenian male and one of the Dwarves had managed to pull weapons before their unfortunate doom. The Izenian had been lucky enough to cut Mortican's arm with a sword, but it didn't matter now. They were dead, and Mortican's wounds already healed. He licked some blood from his lip and savored the taste. The blood contained their life, or had earlier. Now he tasted their memories that flowed within it. They were simple people—nomadic by nature. They had been friends for more than thirty years, but now were dead together. Probably as they would have wanted. Mortican chuckled. They stood no chance to overcome him. The only trained one in the bunch had been the Izenian, who had three years’ worth of official training as a Knight when he was young.
Mortican knew as much from memories he gained and scanned; memories that were contained in their blood. The same blood that now regenerated him fully. He knew their type—nomads. They were people with few choices in the world. Most likely they had come to the Eloxin Isles in hopes of making enough to settle down somewhere with some level of comfort in their lives. The Eloxin Isles after all did have large gem deposits in various caves. Perhaps it was strange, but for that reason, Mortican did not lay a finger on any of their treasure or animal kills. Not that it mattered—he had wealth and treasure beyond anything they could offer him. Still, he respected their desire to better themselves, and he knew that in the wild the strong were the survivors. These bodies had been strong enough to survive Tendra Isle besides their encounter with Mortican. So for that, he let them stay in the sand as they had fallen. And he didn't touch anything further.
Instead he knelt over the body of the Izenian male. He respected that victim the most. At least he had enough skill to get a small scrape against Mortican. Not that it mattered, Mortican still slaughtered them all. But the Izenian male may have made a good Knight if he had encountered better fortune. Mortican pondered the body and the man with his memories a moment. And then Mortican made a decision he didn't normally make. It would have seemed merciful under other circumstances. But Mortican was not merciful. He was quite the opposite.
His hands glowed orange over the Izenian's body. Power surged through Mortican's arms until the dead body began to twitch and jerk. Mortican poured magic through the body as its convulsions became more powerful. At last, it began to move with purpose. Mortican stood first, and then the Izenian male. Suddenly, Mortican had a new slave. The body moved as it had when it was alive. But now, its willpower was overthrown entirely, and it did Mortican's bidding entirely. Mortican asked it its name, and it responded, saying its name was Nambrin.
“Well Nambrin,” Mortican began, “consider yourself the lucky one here tonight, for I have revived you. I could have made you a Vampire and increased your life and powers, but Vampires can be rather testy, and I couldn't have you alive with free will. So, as it is you are merely revived. You are still Izenian, and if you behave like a good puppet and get me the results I seek, then I will remove this mind control and let you live in the world once more. But for now, we have work to do. You will follow.”
Mortican took his new pet slave with him back to Castle Helkar located at the heart of Tendra Isle. Getting in was easy for Mortican, but it would have been an impassible labyrinth for those who did not know the way. Secret passages, pitch black tunnels, traps and various guards made the way dangerous for anyone who didn't belong there. Mortican feared none of it. Instead, for him it was like a stroll through an amusement park.
In different corridors, doors led to various torture chambers. Mortican had many minions. The undead—animated corpses in most cases. They weren't servants like the one that followed him now. They were mindless and controlled yes, but the one he used now still had a chance to live free. Most of Mortican's other servants did not. They were rotten flesh, decayed bones and vile creatures now, no matter what they were once. Humans, Izenians, Dwarves, Elves, Centaurs...the list was long. Mortican had many slaves. He took pity on the Izenian that followed him now, and perhaps no one could ever know his reasons but him. Still it was so, and Mortican made his own choices. The Izenian followed him silently without question until Mortican led him into a room within one of the halls. It was a torture chamber with two large bed-tables in the room, set up at an incline.
Mortican worked quickly. Despite the fact that the room was barely lit, and only by a very weak brazier in the ceiling corner, Mortican saw his way perfectly. He put Nambrin, his new slave upon one of the upright tables. He didn't have to strap him in. In the other table was someone unconscious—a human male that had been captured. Mortican then began his work of reaching for needles, and tubing made from animal innards. He connected the lines, which woke the Human man who was strapped into the other table. The human began screaming and crying in horror.
Mortican delighted in the horrid sound. To him, it was like sweet music, set to play as he worked. He knew that his Izenian pet would need a blood transfusion after Mortican had originally bled him out. He knew the Izenian was weak however—weak like he had been earlier in the night. But now, he had the transfusion lines pumping, and
the bodies both convulsed. To most people, it would be a gruesome sight, but to Mortican it was delightful. The screams of his Human victim was sweet sounding to him, and he smiled, tracing his fingers through the air to the patterns of the yelling. He knew however that those screams would soon stop. The Human was getting weaker and would soon pass out again, either from pain or loss of blood. And soon he would be dead. It didn't really matter to Mortican. The man would serve his purpose and then Nambrin would be ready as a pet, to do the work Mortican wanted him to do. It was only a matter of time.
Soon he would be a Hunter for Mortican. A fitting hunter too, being Izenian. And his target was Izenian...a young man destined to be War Mage. But Mortican wouldn't allow that. Still, he hardly thought it mattered. He made his Izenian slave Nambrin in case it did matter, but Mortican was confident that his plans would continue uninterrupted, and one day soon, he would open the portal between his world and Nexulous moon, and on that day, the power, the evil and the darkness of ages would come pouring back into Fengysha. It was only, a matter of time.
Chapter 7: Into The Wild
The team was ready. The animals moved slowly on the outskirts of town. Wolflen rode Sespa, Ayvock rode his new warhorse Colt, and Katrina agreed to take the wagon out of the city. She seemed to be handling the task well as they all trotted over the main road known as Karnaya Road, a road leading Northward from Haven, which was the direction they were going. Here in Izenian territory, the road was especially wide, allowing for each of them to ride side-by-side. Still, even with all of its traffic, the Karnaya Road was still just a road. Near town, the dirt was well packed and well-traveled. Katrina warned Wolflen however, that as they pushed farther to the North, the road became less traveled, and would undoubtedly have rough spots.
The day was warm, at least to both Izenians. The air was only slightly breezy now, and the temperature was around 68 degrees. Wolflen sat upon Sespa's back over the top of a saddlebag harness he had made for her. In the pouches, he kept mostly food and a few canteens of water. Wolflen found though, that at the slow pace on the smooth surface of the Karnaya road, that he could open his spell book and lay it on Sespa's back and neck in front of him, looking at it as they traveled. Ayvock was atop Colt on Wolflen's right side, and was still nervously tense in a saddle and was uptight about keeping Colt reigned in, despite the fact that Colt was behaving perfectly anyway. Ayvock's new sword and sheath rattled back and forth against Colt's haunches as Ayvock kept himself steady.
As for Katrina, she had the business of keeping the wagon and horses in check. And for the most part, the horses that pulled the wagon were very calm, so it was not a difficult task. But given the fact that they pulled the wagon, she was constantly making slight adjustments to the steering. But, as she sat upon the wagon bench, she removed a dark blue sapphire stone that was the size of a grape from her belt pouch. She examined it and began chanting as she clasped it in her hands. When Wolflen asked what she was doing, she told him that she was charging the stone with magical energy. She explained that it was like creating a reserve of magical energy for a later time when they might need it, and if so, in that instance, she could call upon the energy stored in the stone either in place of her own energy at that time, or in addition to it. Wolflen was fascinated by the concept.
“I've heard of what you speak, but I do not know how it's done.” Wolflen remarked calmly.
“Actually,” Katrina said, “it is not really hard at all. They teach you how to do it in almost any magical trade school. But the concept is simple. To do guild magic, one calls upon their own energy to power the magic. Well, such energy is limited at a given time, but with rest, it gets replenished. Using charged gemstones to store energy however is a handy thing because you can transfer as much of your energy into a stone as it can hold, and withdrawal it when you need it. Of course, transferring the energy now means that I am draining my energy now, but when I rest it will be refreshed and I will still have the stone and the energy in it too.”
Ayvock tightened his reigns as he responded to Katrina's explanation.
“But if you drain your energy now, what happens if you need that energy magic soon and can't rest?”
Katrina smiled.
“This road we are on is vast and expands quite a ways into the North. We will have passed several towns and settlements before it ends. Plenty of times to rest, even before entering territories where we might really need magic. I am just getting prepared for the journey that still lies well beyond our reach at the moment.”
Ayvock leaned back a little more in his saddle as he responded. He thought he understood what she was saying, but wanted some clarification to be sure.
“So,” he started, “you do EXPECT to be needing magic down the road then—for what exactly?”
She understood his question just as he meant it. He wanted to know about danger ahead; if there was any. She turned her head to look over at him and spoke sarcastically.
“Well, we are traveling with a War Mage. What do you think War Mages do exactly?”
“War?” Ayvock responded seriously and innocently.
Katrina laughed at the response, and Ayvock noticed that Wolflen was laughing too.
Katrina could tell that Ayvock was edgy. Maybe it was being on the horse that made him so. Maybe it was the journey they were on. Maybe it was the unknown that was still ahead of them. Most likely it was those things together that made him so nervous now. Katrina knew it too, and decided to ease his mind a bit.
“Look, for now things are calm. We should follow this road until we reach the Snadoc Bridge. From there we ought to break from the road and follow the river. It runs almost parallel to the road, but at a safe distance. And where there is a water source, there is game to be found and hunted.”
Wolflen saw no problem in her thinking, so he agreed freely. Katrina told them that by nightfall they would likely be to another small settlement, and that most likely they could sleep there for the night before starting the journey again in the morning.
By mid-day on the day following, Ayvock and Wolflen were noticing the heat of the sun above. The temperature was close to 69 degrees, and their attire seemed to be hotter than what they wanted to wear. Wolflen removed his robe and set it in front of him over Sespa's back, and Ayvock was complaining about the heat he felt in his leather armor. Katrina however seemed perfectly comfortable in her armor still, and that fact indicated to Wolflen that she was accustomed to being in the wild open and well-dressed still. He asked her when they might stop for lunch. She informed him that it would be soon, when they cleared some of the plains and entered the forest-covered hills. She told him they would have better shade there, and that she would be able to hunt.
She hadn't lied. Another two chimes and they were traveling through the forest. Wolflen was surprised that the road had been cut through it so well, and he admired the hills that climbed and gently fell away again. Everything here is so green. Grass grew all around them, and on either side of the road, trees sprung up everywhere around them. Wolflen noticed that some of the trees had berries on them; red berries that were small in size but clustered on the trees. He asked Katrina if they could eat those berries with lunch, partly because they looked good to him, and partly to drop the hint that he thought they should stop and eat now.
“Sure,” she responded, “sure you can eat those. Of course, if you do I will be watching this expedition slow even more because they will make you very sick. As for lunch, we will stop over this next hill. I will find us a clearing where we can make a fire.”
Katrina had done just as she described, finding a place just off the main road that was in a clearing of trees. She found plenty of fell wood that she gathered as Wolflen and Ayvock adjusted to being back on their feet. She laughed sheepishly as she watched them stretch and groan about the discomforts of riding. As they talked, Katrina grew even more amused, because now the two seemed to be arguing about whose ride was more uncomfortable as if it were a competition of some s
ort.
“You know,” Katrina said to them, “we will be stopped for some time to prepare the food and stretch our legs. It would serve the animals to eat and drink too. Ayvock, unhitch the wagon and get the horses ready. As for you Wolflen, I suggest we try that fire spell of yours one more time as soon as I get this wood ready.”
Ayvock looked at Katrina with mild disdain. He wondered when he became the wagon lackey on their journey, and why she was taking charge. He was under the impression that it was Wolflen's expedition. But when Wolflen did not object to the orders, Ayvock realized that he would have to go along with them whether he wanted to or not. So as he set to the work of unhitching the wagon from the horses, he was grumbling softly about it. Katrina on the other hand, seemed ready for hunting. She had a bow in hand and was shouldering her quiver of arrows. She promised them a decent lunch upon her return and then set out into the trees. Once she was gone, Ayvock finally spoke up.
“So she goes off running around while we do all the work. And when did you put her in charge anyway?” Ayvock asked.
Wolflen just huffed and started unpacking a few things from the wagon.
“Look,” he responded, “we don't know what it means to survive in the wild at all. I figure if we follow her lead we should be okay.”
Ayvock stopped working and stepped to the back of the wagon where Wolflen was.
“Are you saying that because she is a Ranger, or because you have fallen for her?” Ayvock asked urgently.
“Don't talk to me like that!” Wolflen demanded, “You didn't have to come along you know. And who cares who is in charge at the moment? We are following a stupid road north. My maps indicate that her directions are right, so who cares who has to unhitch the wagon? We are all going to have to do some things on this trip—you knew that when you agreed to come along.”
