The Ambersham: Book One of The Lords Of Lynnwood

by Greg Ricker

  "You can not kill it, Vargan." Nysin growled. "You can, however, give it what it wants."

  Before Vargan could resist, Nysin knocked the young Orc soldier's crossbow to the cavern floor, then lifted him up completely, and effortlessly, over his head. Vargan kicked, and flung his arms, as he shouted, struggling to free himself from Nysin's powerful grip.

  The General did not release him, until he was ready to do so. He threw the soldier down near the edge of the pool, knocking the wind out of him, and making him easy prey for the water serpent.

  The magical creature did not miss the opportunity. It scooped up the Orc in its mouth, and then held its head high. The serpent's neck straightened up tall, and Vargan's dark figure could be seen slowly sliding down the creature's liquid throat. Down toward the boiling water, where one could only pray, to die of drowning. It was unknown what fOrce was behind the magic in the water, but those who found out, were never seen again.

  Perhaps, that was one of the laws of magic.

  As Nysin had expected, when Vargan disappeared into the water, so did the serpent, and the boiling water was instantly still again, making a mirror image of the ceiling, once more. Only puddles of water on the cave floor, and some wet Orcs, were proof of what had taken place.

  The General pressed on, feeling nothing for what he had done. If anything, he felt relief that the matter was over.

  Pure evil, has no conscience.

  Besides, Vargan's crossbow, was nice enough to keep for himself.

  The Orcs formed their line again. They were a little more confident, once they witnessed the General getting rid of the water serpent, but they were also a little bit wary of being the next to be used, as food.

  Nysin was prepared to do whatever it took to get the Ambersham, and himself, out of the mountain. Even if he stood alone, when that happened.

  Another long, and steep descent, brought them to an even larger cavern, where the ceiling was low, and the air had an uncomfortable chill. Nysin's necklace lit the area, and all eyes went to the walls of the cavern.

  They were covered with holes. Each one, was the diameter of a great tree trunk, and could easily be crawled through.

  With no other visible ways out, they just may have to.

  They followed Nysin closely, as he walked to the center of the cavern. He did not remove his eyes from the walls, until he stepped on something that snapped under his weight. It was the right arm of an Elf's skeleton. It still held on to its sword and shield, its gaping mouth was still screaming. The broken bone beneath Nysin's foot turned to dust, and he knew it must have been ages ago, when the Elf had died there.

  There were more skeletons about. More Elves, some Dwarves, and a few humans. There was not one Orc among them.

  They were the first then, Nysin assumed.

  Were they to donate their bones to this collection?

  Nysin, did not intend to.

  Abruptly, the cavern trembled, hard enough that some of the Orcs even stumbled, and fell. The very moment they were all standing again, it happened once more, and even more violently than before. Only Nysin, and four other soldiers, had kept their balance.

  The third time came even faster, and harder still, and they all fell to the floor, when something erupted from the cavern wall, sending large pieces of rock down at them.

  One Orc, caught a massive piece with his chest, and died before he hit the ground. Others were injured by blows to the arms and legs, but most made it to their feet, and lived to see what it was that was going to kill them.

  The tunnel worm was enormous. With nearly thirty feet of it sticking out of the wall, still much more of it remained within. Its large, glowing, red eyes looked down from over its mouth full of teeth, and two long, claw-like mandibles. Every segment of its body, had a pair of small, thrashing legs, and it used a few dozen of them to lift its upper body to the ceiling.

  The Orcs had their weapons free, and some began firing their crossbows. A pair of Orcs fled, trying their hardest to climb the steep slope that had led them there. The Orc highest up, suddenly fell flat on his face, and the one behind, stopped dead in his tracks, when he saw the bolt in the other's back.

  He turned quickly, and knew to look directly at Nysin, who was now pointing the crossbow at him. He hesitated to move, but only for a brief moment.

  By the soldier's sudden flight, it was obvious to the General, that the fleeing Orc would prefer a bolt in the back, over the bite of the tunnel worm.

  Nysin was quick to send one his way.

  There were at least a dozen bolts in the creature's body, before it made its first attack, but it still did so with deadly speed. It picked an Orc up by his head, violently jerking it free from the body, which landed motionless on the cavern floor.

  Bolts and throwing knives struck true, but they were minor wounds to the large monster. A siren-like screech came from its mouth, before it swung its head around close to the floor, trying to knock the Orcs down.

  Those who were not struck by the worm, had to jump out of its path. The Orc that it hit, was smashed up against the rough wall, and then picked up by the creature's pointed mandibles. The Orc stabbed the tunnel worm's head repeatedly, as he was lifted near to the ceiling. The blows did not stop it, however, from bending the Orc in half, backwards, and drawing him into its mouth.

  Panic filled the room, when the cavern suddenly turned pitch black. The Orcs shouted to each other for help, as they watched the glowing red eyes of the tunnel worm slowly hovering above them.

  "The holes!" Nysin shouted above them all. "They're the only way out! Follow me!"

  The others thought the General was crazy, to think they could follow anyone in such darkness. Then Nysin released his grip on the jewel, just enough to let a few rays of light bleed through his hairy fingers. He was visible to the soldiers then, and they ran quickly in his direction. Two were at his side in seconds, and the remaining were doing their best to catch up, when one of them fell victim to the tunnel worm's snatching mandibles. They could hear both armor and bones breaking, as the soldier screamed.

  Then another was pulled up into the air.

  Three suddenly were crushed, when the worm came crashing down on them with its weight.

  General Nysin climbed into one of the holes first, and all that remained of his party followed quickly after. There was only eleven of the original thirty left, and Nysin had killed three of them himself.

  They were expendable.

  It was only he, who was not.

  Nysin let the jewel on his necklace hang free, and let it shine full, as he crawled swiftly on his hands and knees. He hoped that the soldiers following him, would keep the light from traveling far behind them.

  Their Orc scent, however, could not be helped.

  Occasionally, other tunnels intersected with theirs, but Nysin stayed loyal to the one he started them on. He wanted to avoid the chance of crawling right back into the cavern with the worm.

  Luckily, it was also what his map advised.

  Until the Orc in the rear screamed, and was ripped away from sight, they did not know that the tunnel worm was still right behind them.

  They were helpless in the tunnels!

  The Orc that held the last position, waited until the next crossing tunnel to leave the others. He crawled into it alone, hoping to let the worm travel passed him, and then after the others.

  He found it waiting there, instead, red eyes looking straight at him, and he failed to get away from its bone-snapping mandibles.

  From the horrible scream that echoed through the tunnels, it was easy for Nysin to make the subtraction. He had nine soldiers remaining. Perhaps he would think twice, before killing another one himself.

  He was finally afraid, and it was the first time he had ever felt so, without being in the presence of Sawl.

  Nysin came upon a large hole in the side of the tunnel. Big enough for him to slip through, but the worm would have to chew it out some more, in order to use it. Nysin looked down out of
it, and did not like what he saw. The hole was located in the middle of a shear wall, and it was, at least, thirty feet to the bottom.

  The General slid out feet first on his belly, and quickly found holds to fasten him to the wall. Then he had to move on, to let the other's out.

  When the tunnel worm screeched, just down the passage from them, the Orc soldiers shot through the hole, and hastily found their holds.

  One hung from the grip of a single hand for nearly a minute, before finding footholds. Just as he did, the wall began to tremble.

  The Orcs watched nervously, as the tunnel worm passed by the hole in the passage they had just used as an exit. If it found them there, they would have to risk jumping the rest of the way down, which would prove to be bone breaking. It carried on, however, until the mountain shook no more.

  Nysin was halfway down the wall, before the others dared to move, and when he reached near to eight feet from the floor, he let go, and landed securely. When he looked around at his surroundings, he realized that he had failed to notice the area before.

  The cavern was enormous. He stood at one end, and could hardly see the other side. It was as if the core of the mountain had been hollowed out. More awesome than its size, was the plant life in the cavern. Tall trees covered with vines, flowering bushes, and mossy grass, had grown wildly everywhere. Their life supported by the spring water that ran in small channels across the cavern floor, and the long rays of sunlight that shot down from holes in the mountain apexes.

  This had to be it. The center of Dragdath.

  Nysin decided, and he began walking, just as the remaining soldiers all reached the cavern floor.

  Slowly, they entered the ancient kingdom of the Drow.

  The drow were dark Elves, black-skinned, and white-haired. They did not possess magic like the pale-skinned Elves, and did not care to venture out of their mountain kingdom. Their jealousy, and disposition of the outside world, grew over the generations, into an inherited hatred.

  Blazekor, had been their king. He was the first, and last, drow Dy'Shan Lord, and that earned him many followers. He used them to launch the deadliest attack that Ayarlyn had ever faced.

  The drow were strong and ruthless opponents, claiming many lives with their advanced weaponry skills. They even burned Ayarlyn castle to the ground, and pieces of the ancient structure were carried down the Asmynd, for all to see.

  In the end, however, magic defeated steel, and Blazekor retreated his army back to Dragdath, but not without first claiming his prize.

  He had stolen the Ambersham. It was a ring of spell turning. Anyone who attempted to cast a spell on the wearer, received the effects himself. An absolute defense against magic.

  The Ayarlyn army, along with the Dwarves of Mynnorah, and the humans of Bowenn, followed Blazekor to Dragdath Mountain, and attacked with an even greater blow.

  The battle did not end, until the last drow fell, but they had failed to find Blazekor, or the Ambersham.

  Even the Elves that could detect magic, had found no clues to where the ring could be. A continued search, brought them treasure, and fine weapons to take with them back to Ayarlyn, but that was all.

  The cave openings that led to Dragdath had been sealed off upon their departure, and they left behind their fear of the drow, and Blazekor, and the power of the Ambersham.

  Even so, they would not be forgotten.

  The first drow Nysin had ever seen, was the one he stepped on, and kicked aside, as he made his way into the woods growing inside the mountain. There were so many skeletal remains in the cavern, the Orcs had trouble not stepping on them.

  They did not take time to search for the remains of Blazekor, for it was written in Sawl's book, that the drow lord was not among the dead. They would not find him here.

  With the fall of the Drow dating nearly eight-thousand years ago, the drow Dy'Shan Lord may have been buried under the rubble of a hundred rockslides, or the brittle pieces of his bones carried off by the spring water channels to the rivers of Lynnwood, then out to sea.

  It was something Nysin had considered during their flight to Dragdath, and he hoped that it was not so.

  He did not care to lose his own blood, without reward.

  He spotted one treasure just ahead. A finely crafted drow sword, with a golden hilt, was sticking out of a human skeleton ribcage. The drow were known for being great blade smiths, and that one was far better than the General's sword. He pulled it free with ease, but not without twisting it first, out of habit.

  Nysin could still see the dying faces of the Bowenn soldiers. He could hear the screams of the servant girls, stopping short as he ran his dagger across their throats.

  He imagined it must have been the same, for Blazekor.

  When the Orc soldiers saw Nysin take the ancient sword, and throw his own away, they commenced to look for weapons to replace theirs, as well. It was not hard to find better items than what they carried, and one even had the luck of finding a round shield of the ancient Dwarf warriors, that still looked nearer to new. Then began a search of the cavern, and even four hours later, the Orcs found no halls, doors, or stairs leading to anywhere else. Except for the way they had come, and that would be a suicidal journey.

  Perhaps it had been so, all along.

  For the last thirty minutes the Orcs had to rely on the light from Nysin's necklace to get around. Elves could almost see as good as normal, in pitch-blackness, so the drow did not need the extra light at night. The sun was a part of the outside world, so darkness was preferred.

  Their tOrches had been left behind, in the packs of some of the dead soldiers. At least one of the remaining soldiers, had some provisions in his pack. They stopped for the second time to have a bite, and fill their drinking pouches with spring water.

  The General was not one for conversation, so the soldiers ate silently, looking around with nerves on edge. It had made their hearts nearly jump out of their chests an hour ago, when the tunnel worm passed by near the cavern again.

  Was it still looking for them?

  Growing weary, Nysin decided they would rest there until morning, when they would have the help of the sun's rays. He took second watch, for it was the most difficult. The others would get four solid hours of sleep, but his would be split in half by the two hour watch.

  It was nearly an hour into his watch, when he thought he saw something move within the trees. He just caught the edge of a shadowy figure with the light of his necklace, as it disappeared behind a large tree. He caught so little of it, in fact, that he almost dismissed it, but on their search, they had not even stirred up a single rodent, they had not heard the song of even one bird, and had not been annoyed by the buzzing of any insects at any time inside the mountain.

  What was the shadow, then?

  Nysin chose to leave the sleeping soldiers, and investigate the movement. If there was an animal down there, he was always ready for a fresh meal. Whatever animal it was, it could not have been alone there, unless it had wandered down to the cavern, or fell from one of the holes in the cavern ceiling.

  Dry spring water channels could be a way in and out, and as for the fall, Nysin had once seen a mountain squirrel fall from a sixty-foot cliff, and run off seemingly unharmed.

  This, however, had been no squirrel.

  Perhaps it was unwise, to roam about alone. He had been warned of the creatures that could inhabit Dragdath Mountain. He had seen the water serpent, and the tunnel worm.

  Could this be something like them?

  Nysin did not stop walking. He did not know why he pressed on. Was his interest stronger than his will?

  No.

  If he wanted to plant his feet, he could do so.

  In fact, he tried to.

  Then found, he could not.

  Impossible! The General was not about to believe that he could not stop his own feet!

  He could deny it as long as he wanted, but the truth was, he could not control the movement of his legs.

  Magic!r />
  Nysin knew something was drawing him in, and he was not about to let it have him, without a fight. His new sword would do nicely, but he failed to pull it from the scabbard. He tried with both hands, and immediately after, he lost control of his arms, and they fell to his sides.

  Fear took on a whole new meaning for Nysin, then, and when the light from his jewel suddenly vanished, so did his hopes for survival.

  As far as he was concerned, he had already lost this battle.

  In pitch blackness, without a way to stop what was happening, Nysin walked slowly, to wherever it was he was being pulled. His eyes bulged, and oily sweat oozed from his thick, hairy skin. Only his head could move, and he twisted and jerked his neck violently, as though to rip it free from his body, so he would not have to witness what was going to happen to him.

  After a couple of minutes, he felt rock returning under his feet, and he knew that he had left the huge cavern, but he could not see even an inch beyond his eyes within the tunnel that he entered. Whatever the fOrce was that had him, it had been kind, so far, steering him around the trees and bushes, and then picking an easy path through the rock. He felt far from safe in magic's grasp, though.

  He was like a helpless little bug, wound up tight in a spider's web, unable to move, and waiting for death to come claim him.

  Magic pulled him for another few minutes, and he could tell that he had descended a great many steps, before his legs suddenly halted, but he still could not control them. His arms also remained useless at his sides.

  The time was here. He was to meet his doom.

  Then, the jewel on Nysin's necklace flashed back to full bright, and the General had to shield his eyes for a moment. When they adjusted, he was in a small cave, with just enough room to stand upright, and barely enough for the bed, table, and chair that occupied it. In the dusty, web covered chair, sat a dark skinned Elf in fine clothing.

  A drow.

  A very dead drow.

  What was left of its black flesh, was dried, and hanging from the bone. There was an odor in the room, a sealed in stench.

  As if death itself, lived here.

  Catching Nysin's eye, purposefully, a shadow seemed to peel itself from the wall across from him. It circled the room, floating behind the General where he could not see it, and then back to where it started. Suddenly, glowing yellow eyes opened on the shadow, giving a head to the shapeless form.