Death Knight Box Set Books 1-5: A humorous power fantasy series
Page 1
Death Knight Box Set
Books 1-5
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter: Awake?
Chapter: Through a Skeleton’s Eyes
Chapter: New Life, Similar Situations
Chapter: Border Crossing!
Chapter: Each Story Has Two Sides
Chapter: To the Deepwood
Chapter: Into the Deepwood
Chapter: Morhtheaus
Chapter: Quest Update
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Chapter: Changing Times
Chapter: Memories
Chapter: I Spy
Chapter: Skalafell’s Secret
Chapter: Under My Protection
Chapter: Chaos Emerges
Chapter: Leader Of The Black Rags
Chapter: Running Scared
Chapter: A New Skalafell
Chapter: Beauty Isn’t Skin Deep
Chapter: Norlund
Chapter: The ’Berg Incident
Chapter: Across The Swirling Seas
Chapter: Yelling Atoll
Chapter: Final Component
Chapter: Meeting The Chief Justice Of Ilsal
Chapter: A History Between a Lich and a Death Knight
Chapter: Tuckered ’Lil Guy
Chapter: Memory Lane
Chapter: Striking Out
Chapter: On the Graves of the Faithful
Chapter: Resurgence
Chapter: War Front
Chapter: New Haven Harbor
Chapter: Moving Pieces
Chapter: Ascen
Chapter: On Dawn’s Break
Chapter: Ignite the Fire of Change
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Chapter: Ascen Changes
Chapter: The Divided Humans
Chapter: Gnominator
Chapter: Changes Across the Land
Chapter: Weight in one’s eyes
Chapter: Phoenix and the Dragon
Chapter: Movements Unknown
Chapter: Sneak Attack
Chapter: A Guardian’s Wrath
Chapter: The Stoha Mountains
Chapter: Facing the Coming Storm
Chapter: Open and Closed doors
Chapter: Kin Revival
Chapter: In Hidden Corners and Foreign Lands
Chapter: A Foothold in the Sand
Chapter: A Different Home
Chapter: Opening of the Northern Basin
Chapter: In the Darkness
Chapter: Wrath of the Protector
Chapter: Army of Light’s Trial
Chapter: Reinforce the North
Chapter: Legion’s War Horns Sound in the East; Army’s Drums Sound in the West
Chapter: Friends at the Gates; Enemy on the Horizon
Chapter: New Arrivals
Chapter: A Lich’s Duty
Chapter: Battle on Three Fronts
Chapter: Under the Cover of Cannons
Chapter: Hidden Might
Chapter: An Oath Taken; An Oath Received
Chapter: Shifting Tides
Chapter: Plans on Both Sides
Chapter: Port Frostfinger
Chapter: Flying Fleet
Chapter: First Battle of Its Kind
Chapter: War on All Fronts
Chapter: We Are the Harbingers, the Peace Seekers, the Blood Letters, the God Killers, and the Farmers
Chapter: Does the Adventure Ever End?
Chapter: Awake?
Aila could hear the devil hunters and their specially trained familiars that were following her trail.
Why did they have to have humans? She ducked through the broken passageway. She came to a stop suddenly; she whirled her arms around, seeking to regain her balance as she heard the rocks she had disturbed falling below. She took a quick second to look at the massive cavern she found herself in.
She failed to regain her balance and finally fell back- ward, grabbing onto the walls of the corridor she was in, panting from fear as she looked at the cavern.
A city of the dead? As a dark elf, her eyesight quickly ad- justed, allowing her to see over the cavern. No, it’s too small; this has to be a crypt. Could this be the one?
Her eyes fell on the large temple in the center that reached up to the ceiling. Around it, black sarcophagus- es were set into the floor, information written into them.
“Come on, she’s close!” she heard the head devil hunter yell. Their voice filled the corridor behind her.
Aila looked around and saw a set of stairs in the side of the cavern. She moved down them quickly, trying to not peer down all the way to the bottom of the stairs. She got to a broken section, jumping before she had time to think of what she was doing.
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She landed on the other side as the stairs started to crack underneath her.
“No!” she yelled as the stairs let go. She tried to run for- ward but of course she was too slow and she dropped to the ground. Aila looked at the rubble-strewn floor right beneath her feet. She had been so scared to look down she didn’t realize she’d only been a few feet from the ground.
She looked around to see whether anyone had noticed or heard her panicked cry. She coughed awkwardly. Who would see you messing up in a crypt like this!? Well, beyond the bastards chasing me, anyhow.
There was an explosion as the debris blocking the cor- ridor she had squeezed through was blown out, raining down on the closest sarcophagi.
She heard coughing and the screeches of familiars as they rushed ahead of their hunters. Some called them spirits; others called them familiars. They were contract- ed magical beasts; all of the races could contract them. It was known that the humans had an innate ability to contract familiars and they could contract multiple fa- miliars. Other races could only make one contract. Hu- mans could even annul contracts and contract other fa- miliars, releasing their previous familiars easily.
These familiars were trackers. They didn’t track by scent but rather the Mana that one gave off. It was impossible to hide from them as they could track their opponent across entire cities, unless someone had a powerful ar-
tifact, or were strong enough to not use their Mana or could kill the familiars.
The familiars let out excited cries as Aila was already running again.
She ran for the main temple, remembering the oath that she had taken to not raise undead and use her abilities for good instead of evil.
What does it matter now? Her anger burned in her chest. If it wasn’t for the devil hunters, then she would have been left alone; she could have completed her trip in peace.
She touched the pouch on the inside of her jacket, mak- ing sure the letter she had been given was still there as she ran into the temple’s open arches. The building was simple but the materials were of the finest quality.
There were three tombs here, arranged in a triangle: the two rested beneath the one placed in the center of the temple.
She had a grim look on her face as she ran to the tomb. The devil hunters weren’t far behind. Taking a deep breath, she drew on her power. Black and purple Mana with flashes of green moved around her as she started chanting in ancient Elvish. Her Mana flowed out under the power of her words, creating a magical line that ex- tended from under her feet to around the sarcophagus. Lines extended out from the main magical circle, cre- ating other magical circles that grew taller into magical pillars.
She used her senses on the sarcophagus in front of her. Even t
hough they were dead, she felt a great power with- in the sarcophagus.
“I, Aila Wranoris, call upon you to heed my words, my call to disturb your rest. Rise to aid me in my tasks! Rise once more, warrior!” she yelled. Her words carried as the familiars’ yells could be heard within the cavern. They were closing with the temple.
The devil hunters aren’t far behind!
She moved her hands quickly, pouring out her Mana without reserve. She would be drained but it was her last shot.
“She’s trying to raise an undead!” one of the hunters cried out, wearing their gold and white badge on their rough leather clothing.
“Kill the devil worshipper!” the head devil hunter cried out, a man with a face full of wrinkles and no hair, a cru- el light in his eyes.
Aila poured out all of the power within her. The air shook as power rushed through the spell. Aila felt her strength leaving her; she had to hold on or else the spell would fail.
An arrow shot past her. The next pierced her cloak that was flying around wildly with the wild Mana churning up the air inside the crypt’s temple.
The spell drew out the required power and rushed into the sarcophagus. Air rushed out from where the spell had been, followed with a thunderclap. Aila was tossed back and the familiars moved back in fear.
The devil hunters were all looking around in alarm but nothing happened.
Did I fail? Aila shook as she looked at the sarcophagus. But it didn’t move. Nothing happened.
She felt herself falling into a pit of despair as the humans showed cruel smiles as they pointed their bows at her.
“Cursed necromancers.” The leading devil hunter spat on the ground, the words dirtying his mouth.
Aila fought to get up, but her entire body was tired. Dark elves, like all other elves, had a great amount of magical power that they could draw on. Although they could cast great spells, once they exhausted their Mana, they had to take time to recover; if they used all of their Mana, they could actually die from it.
“The bishop said that he was interested in her, though,” one of the hunters said.
Aila felt her fury building, remembering how this had all started. She had been getting supplies in the city Pearl- more and booked a boat down to the south through the canals. She kept herself hidden in a cloak. Humans and the other races were drawn toward the elves, either for their beauty or their power.
The “Lord of Light” religion was widespread with the humans. The temples grew in power every day but they normally didn’t reach the dark elves in their under- ground catacombs. She had stepped in front of a bishop, not knowing that it was seen as a great offense.
They had grabbed her and torn off her hood, everyone alarmed at seeing a dark elf with her gray, marble-like skin and black eyes with purple irises. She was not some young child; she could see the lust in the bishop’s eyes.
“Serve me and I will allow this transgression to go,” he had said gravely, as if he were forgiving a great sin, in- stead of her just walking in front of the self-righteous ass.
She’d used an obscuring spell, allowing her to slip away from the guards and escape. She had to leave Pearlmore and kept on running, making it on foot instead of trav- elling on a boat.
The bishop sent devil hunters after her to capture her and bring her back.
The devil hunter looked as if he were making a big deci- sion, weighing the pros and cons.
“Even if she’s a bit damaged when she gets there, the bishop shouldn’t mind. After all, the devil’s minions on- ly say lies.” One of the hunters gave a dark laugh.
A shiver ran through her body. Right now she didn’t even have enough power to call up even a simple flash spell.
Silence fell as the head hunter thought for a few more seconds.
Badump badump. Aila could hear her heart thumping, it was so loud.
“What is that?” someone asked.
There was a noise from the sarcophagus in the center of the temple.
The devil hunters looked over but there was nothing else.
“It was nothing,” the devil hunter leader said.
“I’ll kill you all if you dare land a hand on me,” Aila said in a cold voice.
The others looked at her.
The head hunter let out a loud laugh. “You really think that you can threaten me, a devil hunter under the Lord of Light!” he yelled.
“We’ll teach you a lesson!” another yelled out. The fa- miliars growled as they looked at Aila.
She grabbed a dagger from her belt. The humans pulled back on their bows, still alert. She pushed Mana into the dagger, ready to draw on her life-force to increase the power of her attacks.
One last dance.
“A cornered cat still has claws!” One laughed.
“Grogg, get your stun spell ready!” one called out. A devil hunter pulled out a magic book as he prepared a spell.
There was a final noise of complaint from the sarcopha- gus.
Everyone looked over as a bald white head drilled through the top of the sarcophagus, throwing dust into the air.
“Some people are trying to sleep, you know! Keep it down, will you?”
The devil hunters all looked over.
“Sk-sk-skeleton!” one yelled out, his blade shaking in his hand.
A skeleton stood there with his hands on his hips, an im- age of someone who’d been forced, against their will, to wake up.
His dominating posture was ruined by the top of the sar- cophagus that was hanging off his neck, like some nou- veau art attempt at a scarf.
“Kill it in the name of the Lord of Light!” the head hunter said as everyone looked at the undead skeleton.
“Kill them!” Aila yelled at the skeleton.
“Lord of Light? You don’t look like Light Bringers though?” the skeleton said as an arrow hit it in the head.
“Ow?” it said, standing there as more attacks struck it. It didn’t seem fazed, looking thoughtful.
“What is this? Elven magic? Life-force, phew, big ole spell, some memories in here.”
Aila saw flashes of information pass behind her eyes. Her entire body shook as the undead used the thread of power connecting them to review her memories.
The skeleton’s thoughtful face changed. “Redeemer.” He held out his hand.
The hairs on the back of Aila’s neck stood up at the sud- den chill in his voice; she felt suffocated under the pow- erful aura the undead was giving off.
There was a cracking noise as a sword that had been held by an armored statue flew from its resting place, shed- ding its stone covering and revealing a sword covered in powerful runes.
It rested in the skeleton’s hand. They seemed right to- gether as the skeleton stepped forward and then blurred. The devil hunters seemed to drop as one, he moved so fast. Looks of disbelief filled their slowly dulling eyes as they dropped to the ground and turned into dust. The familiars’ contracts were severed, being sent back to
their spirit plane without time to attack those that killed their contract holder.
The skeleton stood in front of the head devil hunter. “The legions will cut you down!”
“You say you are a person from the justice faction, but instead you are mired in chaos.” The skeleton seemed re- gretful for the devil hunter, who was about to say some- thing, but was cut down by the undead. His sword didn’t even have blood on it. He sighed, making to put it away and finding no scabbard there.
“That’s annoying,” he muttered as the cover stone moved with his head.
The head hunter was burned up from the inside as well. A breeze from the undead’s attack left nothing behind.
Aila had released her magic and looked at the skeleton in shock.
“Hello!” His bright voice was at odds with the death he had just brought down on the devil hunters.
She studied the thread of magic between them. Her magic had been altered, feeding him Mana, but not commanding him.
“Who are you?” It took high level
magic to alter her spell. She had never heard of a skeleton like him.
“No idea.” The skeleton grinned, looking extremely
creepy.
“Must have been dead for a long time, memories are gone,” she muttered to herself. She noticed wording on the cover stone; his head was through most of the writ- ing and the last name, but she could see the first word.
“Anthon—maybe it’s Anthony?”
“Anthony.” The skeleton said the word before nodding. “That sounds familiar. How did you know?”
She smiled awkwardly and pointed at the cover stone.
He looked down at it, or tried to. “Well, that is a bit awkward.” He laughed and pulled on the cover stone. It didn’t come off the first time; then he heaved, his head popping off and flying as the cover stone was tossed against a wall.
“Oh, this is strange,” Anthony’s head said as his body’s hands were splayed out, trying to balance. “Would you be able to help me?”