“King Buster will come lookin’ for us. He’ll be makin’ ya pay for takin’ us.” Thirak took a sudden step forward which his fists clenched by his side and his chest puffed out. Sylestra chuckled.
“King Buster is a world away and even if he was to learn of your whereabouts his army wouldn’t stand a chance of getting even a day’s march from here. No I think you’ll find that you are stuck with me, but in time I’m sure you’ll be thankful for your fate.” Thirak charged at the bars. Impossibly quick, Sylestra lifted her legs off the ground and swung forward with one extended straight out. Her foot collided with the charging dwarf so hard that it threw him back deep into the cell.
“I’ll be seeing about your mead now.” Sylestra let go of the bars, turned around and slowly walked away feeling very pleased with herself.
Heperi
Pilk awoke early after having spoken to Grand Master Reibeck at length the previous night and convincing the old wizard to accompany him to the academy. His mentor had become very alarmed to hear that Sylestra was still alive and was willing to help out in whatever way he could to see the Gate closed.
Once he had eaten a light breakfast, dressed, and was ready, he went to his enchanted room and locked the door. He walked over to his magical archway and activated it, relieved that Grand Master Reibeck had opened access to his already. He walked through, feeling the familiar tingling sensations run right through his body, realising that every particle was being magically segregated so as to instantly traverse the folded space between the two locations and then reassembled.
Grand Master Reibeck waited for him on the other side, seated upon a comfortable looking, low lying couch and smoking a pipe.
“Still an early riser then, aren’t you, Master Pilk?” asked Grand Master Reibeck with a smirk. “I have only just sat down and begun my pipe, so you will have to wait til I finish.”
“Considering our world could be in great peril, sleeping in is hardly an option, grand master.” Pilk walked over and took a seat near his old mentor, knowing it was pointless rushing the old man. He knew Grand Master Reibeck better than that. The old wizard was ever patient, never in a hurry to do anything no matter how important and yet always managing to get it done.
His wrinkled, weathered old face with his bushy white beard and white hair became lost as he exhaled a large puff of smoke. As the smoke floated away and dispersed he turned his intelligent looking hazel eyes toward Pilk.
“Being a bit dramatic aren’t you, Master Pilk? We have no dragons on this world to anger.” Master Reibeck took another long deep draw on his pipe and blew the smoke out spasmodically this time, forming a dragon’s head with the smoke. He turned once more to Pilk with a raised eyebrow and a curious smile.
“Do we know that for sure, do we? Have we sailed across the Never Ending Sea, or mapped every square mile of it? How many have travelled beyond the untamed lands or north beyond the elves? I fear we know very little about this world we live on,” said Pilk, ignoring his mentor’s little jest and moving about restlessly in his chair, anxious to get moving.
“By all accounts, the elves were here before we were, and they have made no mention of dragons.” Grand Master Reibeck appeared to be argumentative for the sake of it and not because he believed what he was saying. Pilk knew the old wizard used this tactic many times to get his students to think for themselves.
“The elves have explored even less of this world than we have. They have always been content on that large island of theirs. Very few of them bother to travel our lands even now.” Pilk shuffled his feet and became fidgety. Why must his mentor always waste time like this?
“And are dragons also content to dwell in the one place?” asked Grand Master Reibeck, curiously.
“From the little I know of dragons, they are content to sleep for hundreds of years at a time. But I see what you are getting at — when they are awake, they do roam far and wide in search of food and treasure, which makes them a mighty enemy of dwarves. However, this is all off topic. Sylestra was a large threat to Aleri even before she started animating dragons and magic seemed to be greatly more powerful on that world and still they could not stop her.” Pilk sighed loudly as he got up from his chair and began pacing the floor.
“Have you considered why magic was more powerful on Aleri than it is here on Ka’ton, Master Pilk? Or why all of a sudden the power of magic is growing again since the appearance of this great gate? You tell me that Mistress Cali was able to cast spells on the orc world — did you ask if she noticed a difference in the power of it there or even in the way it felt? You know as well as I that magic, in its varying forms, is a gift of the gods or in our case as wizards, the goddess Tybressa.” Grand Master Reibeck finished his pipe and began to clean it out.
Pilk stood frozen as he considered the words of his mentor.. He barely even noticed the old wizard rise to his feet. After a moment of deep thought he muttered to himself, “Of course.”
* * *
A knock on the door had Sylestra waking up. She jumped out of bed as lithely as a teenage girl and waited until she put on her robe before permitting entry. The mass sacrifices from the previous night had her abuzz with energy. General Jak’ho opened the door swiftly and bowed his head low.,
“I’m sorry for the early disturbance supreme mistress, but I have news that I thought you’d want to hear about at once.”
“Well delay no longer. I am awake now and you have my ear.” The sacrifices had continued til midnight and her usual sexual activities after such an event had kept her awake for a few hours thereafter, but her sleep had been a deep and satisfying one. While she would have preferred a few more hours, her excitement about the day’s activities had her wide awake.
“Our final scout reported in moments ago. He was the one who was sent to Chimak. While his report on Chimak was as expected, he made an interesting discovery on his way there. He found some tracks he thought to be human mixed with some other smaller, but wider boot prints that he didn’t know what to make of. After following the tracks he came to a cave and confirmed that the tracks were human. He caught no sight of the other beings though, as the cave was dark and he was pressed for time, but the tracks all led to the cave.” General Jak’ho told the story quickly, but clearly.
“Dwarves! It must be surely,” exclaimed Sylestra. “Where were they sighted?”
“That was my suspicion as well. They were in a cave sheltering from the storm just over the border in between Chimak and Izlalek. The tracks showed them to be heading south.” General Jak’ho looked seemingly more relaxed than he first had upon entering her private room.
“How many are they?” asked Sylestra abruptly.
“Perhaps as many as one hundred, supreme mistress,” replied General Jak’ho.
“Assemble a company of worg riders, five necromancers along with their necrolytes and instruct them to wait for me at the eastern gate. Send my maids to me on your way out,” ordered Sylestra.
“At once, supreme mistress.” General Jak’ho turned on his heal and marched out of her room. A few moments later, three of her maids entered.
Within half an hour she was standing in her private courtyard wearing a tight fitting, black velvet outfit with her usual array of wands and potions held around her shapely hips by a thick leather belt. Her scimitar was strapped to her back, while her dagger was sheathed in the side of her left, specially designed, knee high leather boot.
She pulled out a whistle which was ornately shaped in the form of the creature it summoned. By putting her lips to the slightly opened mouth of the metallic wyvern and blowing, a high pitched squeal emanated from the tip of its tail.
The storm had passed over some time throughout the night, but many clouds were still about and the sun had not yet risen, so Sylestra heard the beat of the creature’s wings before she caught sight of it in the darkness. She had been surprised to find the smaller cousin of the dragon on this world a few years after first arriving. At first she thought it signalled tha
t dragons also dwelt here, but after centuries of searching she had found no evidence of the larger beasts.
Once Nefari’s powers had grown sufficiently, she set about creating an enchanted artefact that would give her control over these magnificent creatures. After the sacrifice of hundreds of her slaves, she finally achieved it with a large emerald crystal that she was able to magically imbed into the forehead of the large black wyvern landing gently at her side. The whistle that she now stowed away safely in a pouch on her belt, would magically call to the creature wherever it may be. She named her flying pet Zaydok, which was an orcish name meaning ‘poisonous breath’.
Zaydok lay down at her mental command allowing her to climb up in between his wings. In one of his armoured scales was a bolt she had driven in millennia ago and two thick leather straps were attached to it. She wrapped a strap around each of her legs, straddling the beast as she would a worg, and tightened them up firmly. Then with a thought, she commanded the wyvern to take flight.
* * *
“To what do I owe the pleasure of having Grand Master Reibeck and his favourite student visit?” asked Grand Master Rotager sarcastically as the two men were shown into his office. Pilk cringed and held back about a dozen nasty replies he was tempted to use.
“Thank you for your time in receiving us,” said Grand Master Reibeck before Pilk could formulate any other sort of reply.
“If you’d kindly get to the point, gentlemen. As you certainly know Grand Master Reibeck, the academy is unusually busy at the moment and therefore my time is very limited,” Grand Master Rotager leaned back in his chair and folded his arms looking every bit the arrogant head grand master of the academy that Pilk remembered him as.
“Yes, well, you are well aware of the Gate that has appeared near Arthea. Plans are coming together in arranging the closure of it. King Cassien wants word spread at the academy that we’ll need as many wizards as we can available for such an undertaking,” explained Grand Master Reibeck.
“And what has Master Pilk to do with all of this? He has been unusually quiet.” Grand Master Rotager almost spat out Master Pilk’s name.
“I have a letter here from King Cassien ordering the full cooperation of the academy.” Pilk shuffled forward and placed the sealed letter on the grand master’s desk. Grand Master Rotager retrieved the letter, opened it and began reading it at once. His eyebrows rose with a certain amount of satisfaction.
“The king has charged you with the closing of the Gate?” asked Grand Master Rotager sardonically. “He is making a huge mistake. Matters of such importance should be handled by a grand master, not merely a master. Few wizards of this academy would willingly put themselves under your charge, Master Pilk.”
“Master Pilk has the power of a grand master, if not the title,” said Grand Master Reibeck firmly.
“Which makes him even more dangerous, Grand Master Reibeck, you know that. This is why we have the academy so that we can train wizards to control their respective levels of power. Master Pilk has always had trouble understanding that.” Grand Master Rotager’s voice had raised.
“Nevertheless, it is the king’s order and must be followed. Master Pilk is wise enough to accept the advice of those around him.” Grand Master Reibeck’s voice remained calm.
“I thank you men for bringing this to my attention, but I will discuss the matter in further detail with the king himself before alerting the academy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am already running well behind.” Grand Master Rotager rose from his chair and began ushering them out the door.
“Do not delay too long in speaking with the king,” said Pilk as he was all but pushed out into the corridor.
“I will speak to him as I have the time, Master Pilk.” Hatred beamed from the head grand master’s eyes. He slammed the door hard before Pilk could say another word.
“Well that went quite well,” said Grand Master Reibeck. Pilk looked at his mentor and raised an eyebrow. His mentor just smiled in response.
* * *
Krak’too smiled as he watched his reinforcements march into the camp. Fort Dega was not yet large enough to accommodate them all and so Krak’too had arranged for more tents to be set up in the canyon on Ki’arantha. What made him smile the most was the full company of worg riders now under his command.
The sun was cresting the horizon on Ki’arantha but it was near to mid-morning on Ka’ton and General Krak’too was eager to set off to Heperi. Feygrus had scouted it personally for him after the human army had left the day before and the report was encouraging. It was a city without walls containing a population made up of largely fishermen and farmers, but also a standing army of a few hundred.
Wanting the new warriors to witness first-hand the effort and the loss to acquire human captives, he took them all with him, leaving behind two hundred of his most trusted to continue works on the fort.
The warm sun was directly overhead as the army marched around the northern banks of Teardrop Lake and caught sight of the city across the still water. It was also evident that they had been observed as all the boats on the water swiftly rowed back to shore. A ringing bell in the distance a short while later confirmed it.
Krak’too ordered his worg riders to go on ahead and cut off any attempted escape on the western edge of the city while he spurred his troops on even quicker.
Half an hour later and they had reached the northern edge. A single large tower stood amidst the surrounding buildings containing a squad of archers. In front of the tower stood the town’s assembled army clad in red and black leather armour with the large griffin head emblazoned on their chest.
“Care to clear out that tower for us, Great Shaman O’tukka?” asked Krak’too turning to the shaman.
“With pleasure, general.” O’tukka muttered some words not loud enough for General Krak’too to understand while waving his arms about. With a sudden outthrust of his arm, a fist sized ball of fire went hurtling toward the top of the tower. As it hit the deck supporting the archers it exploded into a massive ball of flame, instantly incinerating the assembled archers and catching the tower on fire.
General Krak’too ordered the charge immediately after. As they neared, the Raziyan archers at the rear of the formation let their arrows loose, volleying them over the heads of those in front. Having full confidence in his powerful shaman, General Krak’too charged on, not even flinching as arrows neared him. Sure enough, as arrows came within a few feet of those leading the charge, they hit an invisible barrier and bounced away harmlessly.
The general hit the front line of the defenders with a fury. Wielding his two enchanted falchions, he chopped the first defender clean in half; the slight blue glow of the weapon brightened as it sliced through flesh and bone.
With one of his weapons so charged, he slapped the two flats of his blades together while pointing them at the next soldier. A row of growing blue circles emanated from the tips of the falchions until it hit the man and subsequently knocked him off his feet and flying back into his fellow defenders.
Using the blunt edge of the falchion in his right hand, General Krak’too swung it into the back of another man’s head, knocking him out cold. The next soldier to confront him was the first that was able to block his attack. The force that the general had hit with however, was enough to put the man off balance and with a solid kick of his leg, Krak’too forced the man to ground.
The fighting was over within an hour and they began to sweep the town for any that were hiding. Those that had tried to flee were swiftly rounded up by the worg riders. All who surrendered willingly were disarmed and gathered together in the city square. The injured were treated and healed to the extent necessary, enabling them to travel.
Krak’too was a little dismayed with how easily they had conquered the city. He had wanted to show the new recruits how difficult it was to attain prisoners that were later released by the fierce one. He had conquered this town with the loss of around fifty of his own soldiers and had possibly over a thousan
d captives. Admittedly a lot of those were women and children but he had a good hundred soldiers among them, along with many fit, strong working men. But with these results, the fierce one’s plans didn’t seem that crazy after all.
* * *
Gerard and Jeff had left the cave at first light. It was still cloudy but the rain had stopped and the wind had all but ceased. Gerard’s leg was no longer a hindrance and so the two men had made swift progress. Coming to the crest of a large hill they caught sight of the mountains southwest of them.
They stood there admiring the view for a few minutes until another sight had them running for cover. Gerard had thought it to be a bird at first, but as it got closer its size soon became apparent. Peering out from the crevice they had jumped into, they both kept an eye on the flying creature.
“I think someone’s riding it,” said Jeff. Jeff had keen sight and Gerard didn’t doubt his friend’s observation. He had thought himself that the creature was flying in a very sequential pattern, as if in search of something or someone. If it had a rider, that would explain the unusual behaviour and Gerard had a fair idea what it was they were searching for.
“I hope the others have seen it and are keeping out of sight,” said Gerard. Jeff nodded in agreement.
It wasn’t long until Gerard could see for himself that Jeff’s observation had been correct. The creature and its rider were close enough to make out many of their features.
“Is that … Is that a dragon?” asked Jeff.
“I’m not sure. I thought they were bigger. However I also thought them to be a myth, so who knows,” answered Gerard.
“And the rider looks to be human — a woman in fact.” Jeff shuffled toward the end of the crevice, obviously trying to get a better view. Gerard followed behind him.
“It is a woman!” exclaimed Jeff in triumph after a few minutes. “The orcs have been lying to us, Gerry.”
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