Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle

by J. R. Lawrence

  The Follower was none other than Dril’ead Vulzdagg. He had come down through the crack into the lower level of the Shadow Realms to fulfill his assigned task, though he had willingly offered himself for the assignment.

  Dril walked slowly and silently across the rough stone floor, his cloak barley dragging on the stones underfoot, and his leather boots making little hardly a sound on the smooth cavern floor. He halted and examined the area with his dark eyes, searching the infrared spectrum for any movement. There was a faint glimmer of movement just before him that had barely passed behind a cold stalagmite pillar, stretching nearly to the ceiling of the cavern, and Dril came forward a few paces and rounded the corner of this stalagmite to see what had passed.

  Round the edge of the stalagmite pillar he saw a small figure vanish behind another stalagmite, but Dril saw enough of this creature to know what it was: By its bald head he recognized it as a gnome, undoubtedly searching for valuables to be taken back to Gerrabaar, its homeland deep beneath the Zurdagg Branch. However, once noting the hammer that it carried casually on one shoulder he figured it to be a common enslaved guard patrolling the outer perimeter of Zurdagg.

  Dril waited a moment before moving forward to the next stalagmite, and then carefully peered round its edge. There was nothing. He turned away and went in the opposite direction of the gnome, following a line of stalagmites that stretched along the perimeter of Zurdagg to his left.

  He stopped and looked upon the long wall of stalagmite and stalactite surrounding the Branch of Zurdagg, and saw in the middle of that city the enormous stalagmite, in which was carved the halls and passages of the citadel and Mage Tower of Zurdagg, rising upward toward the darkened ceiling. It was the Mage Tower of which the Branch was honored for, being the House of the Mage itself.

  Dril took in an anxious breath before strolling casually forward toward the gate through the stalagmite wall, tightly shut and guarded by two of The Followers of Zurdagg. The guards wore the deep red and purple colors of Zurdagg upon their tunics. Dril kept his pace steady, though he struggled to relax and look casual, fearing these guards could tell a traitor by first sight.

  “Halt!” one of the guards said, holding up a hand while his other rested on the hilt of a curved blade much like Dril’s.

  “I come on behalf of the Vulzdagg Branch of the Urden’Dagg tree,” Dril said calmly.

  “What brings Vulzdagg to the halls of Zurdagg?” asked the guard. At his side the second guard stood still, waiting for the signal to attack.

  “To speak to Grulad, master of the magic arts,” Dril replied quickly. “This is the home of the Master Mage, is it not?”

  “Grulad has not set an appointment for your presence,” the guard said, getting a grip on his sword. The second guard copied his movement.

  Dril saw this motion and was about to draw his own, and he would have if someone had not raised their voice in command to break the growing tension, saying, “Hold!”

  Turning, the three Followers saw a figure step out of the darkness wearing a maroon robe and cowl that shadowed his face. He carried a book in one hand, his other raised high above his head in protest against their initial action.

  “Dril’ead Vulzdagg, I believe?” the figure said as he approached, indicating Dril standing before the Zurdagg guards.

  “Grulad!” said Dril with a measure of relief.

  “Has this stranger come to speak with you?” the guard, disappointment in his tone.

  “He has, yes,” Grulad said. “Dril’ead, if you would follow me, I have something I believe you wish to see.”

  Dril turned away from the guards, exchanging expressions of annoyance for a brief moment, and followed Grulad away along the edge of the stone wall encompassing the city within. A feeling of insecurity filled his senses as he followed the Mage Master, and he couldn’t help but wonder if from within their tower the nobles of Zurdagg were watching him, knowing all about his families plot against their reign. He glanced only once up and over the wall at the top of the Mage Tower, but saw nothing but darkness and stone there.

  They came at last to a series of complex buildings outside the wall of Zurdagg, and they entered into the center structure where there was three bridges branching off to connect with three separate and smaller buildings surrounding it. Inside the center structure Dril realized that it was just one circular room, tables lining the walls piled with stacks of various manuscripts. The floor was covered with a red carpet that spread just to the legs of the tables.

  Grulad opened the book he held and began flipping through the pages in search of something. Dril waited patiently, but couldn’t help glancing anxiously around the room to be sure no one was about.

  “Here you are,” Grulad said, handing the open book to Dril.

  Dril took the heavy book and read where Grulad pointed. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” he asked in a confused tone. “I thought it was more on the subject of Zurdagg defense of power.”

  “You want to know about Zurdagg?” Grulad asked curiously.

  “Yes! I thought we had clearly told you to research Zurdagg, foundations and defenses of the city!” said Dril, handing the book back to the Master Mage. “Should I return when you have accomplished our request?”

  “No!” exclaimed the Zurdagg Follower as he quickly flipped through the pages again. “I have it here! I’m sorry for the confusion.”

  Dril snatched the book out of The Followers grip and skimmed through the page, tracing words with his pale finger. “This will do fine.”

  “Will it?” Grulad asked, nervous tension revealed all too clearly.

  “Yes,” Dril said, eyeing the Master Mage suspiciously, and he clapped the book closed before handing it over to the mage. “It will do just fine… for now.” He then turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Grulad said, taking a step forward, “What’s in this for me? I’ve done your research, I deserve some part. What is it you’re even doing to know so much about Zurdagg?”

  “If I told you,” began Dril, turning to face him. “I’d have to kill you.” He paused and looked from side to side; scanning the walls for any listener he might not have seen before.

  “As for your payment,” Dril’ead drew his sword quickly and swung it downwards to be held just a tear drop away from Grulad’s nose, the Master Mage stumbling below him in alarmed surprise. Leaning in close to his face Dril said in a half whisper, “Your life will be spared.”

  He returned the blade back into its cover and straightened his cloak over his shoulders. “If you wish to learn of my plans with this information, I’ll tell you… But be warned! If one word of our meeting here is even mentioned, I will take my blade and run it clean through your throat. Do you understand?”

  Swallowing his anxiety, Grulad nodded.

  “If you try to interfere with our business, I will do exactly the same – but cut off your hands and feet and make you crawl from Zurdagg to Grundagg first,” Dril said, and smiled at the mages horrified face. “Now,” He continued smoothly, “our plans are simple, and if you stay out of our way while we fulfill it, you may have a part of our earnings.”

  “Our?” Grulad said, wondering who the others were since they were mentioned.

  “The members of my Circle of Power, of course” Dril said simply and somewhat offhandedly.

  Dril’ead Vulzdagg, new captain of the Vulzdagg Basilisks and third head of the Vulzdagg Circle of Power, continued what he had begun to tell the mage master of Zurdagg. “Our plans are somewhat simple, but also daring and difficult,” he paused, thinking of the best way to describe it. “We are going to end the Branch and Circle of Zurdagg.”

  3

  House of the Basilisk

  The Basilisk climbed upwards, squeezing itself and its rider out of the crack and onto the upper level of the Shadow Realms. They came free of the crack and were scurrying across the stone ground of that dark realm toward the high towering peak of the Vulzdagg Branch. As they went forward at a quick pace they neared th
e mushroom forest outside the stalagmite walls of Vulzdagg. Here, Dril dismounted and took the reins of his Basilisk and led it through silently, neither of them making the slightest noise to arouse the mushrooms rigged with natural explosive abilities.

  Dril and his Basilisk made it safely to the gates of the city without triggering the mushrooms, and passing between two large stalagmite pillars carved with runes by careful hands they were finally home in Vulzdagg, the home of the Basilisk Riders, and Dril’ead returned his Basilisk to the stable where other Basilisks were kept

  The Vulzdagg citadel appeared dark in the eyes of The Follower as he approached its gates; spikes rose from its walls, making it look more fierce and foreboding then he knew it to be. Two enslaved Horg’s passed him by, pulling a cart through the rocky terrain, stumbling and bumping into one another as they went.

  He watched the slaves pass before continuing on toward the citadel. The gates were made of hard iron and guarded by two statues of Basilisks, crouched and ready to attack. Dril paid the statues no heed, for this was his home, his family, and he had grown up with the gaze of the Basilisk ever upon him as they guarded his every move within the Vulzdagg walls.

  The gates opened on approach without any hands to shift them, but directed by a magical property, and Dril passed into the throne room of his father and mother, and halted before the spiked seat of Leona’burda Vulzdagg as she sat pregnant with another member to add to the aristocracy of Vulzdagg.

  Dril’ead dropped to one knee and pulled back his purple cowl to reveal his stark white hair, and bowed his head to his mother in respect. “Your command has been accomplished,” he said with his head bowed still.

  “Has the information been found?” Leona’burda asked.

  “Yes,” Dril said. “Grulad of Zurdagg, the Master Mage, has done his part. Zurdagg’s weaknesses are revealed.”

  “Has any questions been asked from the Master Mage?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Dril hesitated. “Yes. He wished to know why we needed this information. I told him that if he were to speak of this to anyone, he’d pay the full penalty.”

  “He knows?” Leona demanded with increasing distress.

  Dril’ead hesitated. “Somewhat.”

  Leona exhaled deeply; the anger and want to scream showing in her eyes and expression. “Rise, Dril’ead Vulzdagg,” she said in a surprisingly calm tone, and Dril rose slowly, keeping his gaze down. “Your task has been successful and you will be rewarded for your actions. However, never speak of our tasks again to anyone. It could mean failure and the fall of Vulzdagg.” She waved a hand toward the door. “You are dismissed.”

  Dril bowed and turned away, walking swiftly to the iron doors, his cloak fluttering behind him. But as he approached the doors someone stepped out of the shadows and came to his side, Vaknorbond, Dril realized as he looked up into his father’s solemn face. He halted and was about to bow to his lord when Vaknorbond stopped him with a hand, and led him out the iron doors that opened again as they approached.

  “What have you told Grulad of us?” Vaknorbond asked in a whisper, once they were outside the citadel.

  “Only that we planned to kill crush the aristocracy of Zurdagg,” Dril replied. “I also told him that if one word of it broke out of his mouth, I’d deal with him personally.”

  “Threats do not keep a traitors tongue behind its teeth,” Vaknorbond reminded his son and apprentice. “It would have been better to kill the creature of a Fallen.”

  “Kill him?” Dril asked in surprise, “After what he’s done for us? I came close to doing so, I admit, but we can trust Grulad. I know it – I saw it in his eyes.”

  They turned and began walking again as they followed the walls of the Vulzdagg citadel. Here and there Horg’s or goblins were pushing carts, making weapons, or working in all sorts of ways. Barracks and stables rose in constructed clusters, and soldiers were busy training and testing their weapons against practice bodies. The city was preparing for the act against Zurdagg.

  “Where was it that you met Grulad?” asked Vaknorbond, his tone stern. “Explain the happenings when you were in Zurdagg.”

  “Well,” Dril began thoughtfully, “I had some trouble with the guards. Two of them guarded the gate into the Zurdagg city, and when I asked them if I might see Grulad they turned me down and were about to fall upon me when Grulad at last came and halted them. Grulad then led me to a large round building outside the city with three smaller buildings branched off by bridges on either side. I recognized this as the Mage Training Quarters. Inside the Mage Training Quarters there were tables along the walls, each piled with many stacks of books – I took no time in seeing what books; that was not my assignment.

  “But there he showed to me a book with the topic of the city of Zurdagg and its foundations’ strengths and weaknesses. But before that he opened the book to the topic of the Urden’Dagg, its unspeakable power and its wrath when a Branch openly destroys the peace by crushing a Branch without its consent. This concerned me for a moment, but when I demanded for Zurdagg’s information he quickly turned me to the correct pages.” Dril looked sidelong at his father, Vak, as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “I see,” Vaknorbond said in deep thought. “If it is so that Grulad showed to you such things in that book during a time like this – when we are secretly planning against his Branch – It seems to me that Grulad already knew what we are about.”

  “If that is so, then why had he asked me the reasons I needed such information?” Dril asked, wondering much the same now that Vaknorbond mentioned it.

  “That is the tricky part,” Vaknorbond said. He halted and Dril stopped beside him, and they faced one another with grim expressions. “The enemy may ask questions not to arouse suspicion. The Master Mage might have been doing just that. Perhaps he asked as to sway your thinking he already knew. Maybe he did know, and maybe Zurdagg knows of our plotting. Grulad showed you the wrath of the Urden’Dagg in that book with the intent to scare us out of our plans.”

  “So it was a foolish thing of me to let him live after all,” said Dril.

  “It was already too late for that, my faithful son,” Vaknorbond said, and he clapped both hands down on Dril’s shoulders. “And now, Dril’ead Vulzdagg, even if they do know of our planning’s, we will still destroy. And you, my faithful son, are to be promoted to the station of captain of the Basilisk Riders as I ascend to the throne of Lord Vishtax.”

  Dril’ead bowed to his father. “Thank you for this honorable privilege,” he said.

  They turned and began walking back to the gates of the Vulzdagg citadel. For a while neither spoke, but before reaching the doors of the citadel Dril’ead spoke once more to his father, saying half to himself and half to him, “I spared the mages life for the work he had done in helping us in the research. Perhaps I show too much mercy.”

  “Perhaps,” said Vaknorbond. “One must be careful how and to whom he deals his mercy. You shouldn’t allow your enemies to know your kind self.”

  “I showed no kindness to him. And he’ll never receive any more than what I already gave: his life.” Dril stopped at the base of the steps to the doors of the citadel, looking up at his father thoughtfully.

  Vaknorbond turned to him before going within. “You’ve done well, Dril’ead. Remember that, if nothing else.”

  Dril bowed to him, but rising he said, “Let mother know I’ll not allow another enemy knowledge of my business or the workings of my people, Or else they will surely fall.”

  “It will be done, Dril’ead,” Vaknorbond said, and disappeared behind the gates.

  4

  Fond Farewell

  Dril’ead sat cross legged in a circle connected to the Circle of Power, his arms folded over his chest and his purple hood cast back and folded over his shoulders. Others of the captains and commanders of Vulzdagg sat in the other circles, such as Vaknorbond, Leona’burda, and Gefiny. This was a war gathering. Dril hadn’t seen it before, though he knew it had hap
pened once before in his people’s history. Every leader was to attend this meeting before a battle so they could make official plans for the attack.

  Vaknorbond rose slowly to his feet. The one hundred and twenty year old fighter stood before all, appearing in his youthful years even after so long of a time, and he spoke loudly for all in the circle to hear. “Tonight we attack Zurdagg with all our might and force. The Branch has stood against us for far too long, and it is now time that we, the citizens of Vulzdagg, make a stand against it.

  “Captains and generals of the militia,” Vak continued, directing his words toward their chief commander, whose name was Razarr, “you will move your battalions of footmen forward while keeping your Horg slaves at the head of the company – they will do the most damage there. Move forward and advance on their gate. While you are thus marching a host of mages from our training course will shoot detonations that should ensure your passage through the gates.

  “Once the outer guard towers of the gate are destroyed, my son, Dril’ead will ride with the Basilisk Riders and pass down and into the gates of the city – that are hopefully by then destroyed. If all goes well and the aristocracy of Zurdagg is cast down, there will be no more threats to our authority and stand here as Vulzdagg!”

  Despite the grimness of the air in the room, everyone clapped. That is, everyone except Dril’ead; who sat cross legged and arms folded, thinking only of the battle and its possible outcomes. They would fight for vengeance, a thing more bloody and terrible than any other ideal to fight for. However, they all knew Zurdagg had done something to cause the death of their previous lord, and so they were all enraged.

  Nothing could stop an enraged host of zealous fighters, both Dril’ead and Vaknorbond knew.