Elf World Shadows Rising

by Matthew Pequegnat

  “Still, Myst, ya should have taught the lass how to defend herself!”

  “Yes, I went over it once with her... Well, let me think about it.”

  “Ur, that should take a while.”

  Myst ignored his friend, and tried to think of how to explain defensive magic; he himself had only the basic ability to shield against magic. “How to find another way to describe something he barely could do himself….”

  “Kayla, think about a wall of nothingness.”

  Moss snorted at Myst’s description. Myst threw a rock at the Dwarf, who laughed and swatted the rock away before it could hit him.

  “Make the wall between you and the target. Make it large enough to stop him from casting at you. Did you do it, Kayla?”

  Kayla concentrated at finding the magic and making a two handed gesture as if wiping a window from inwards to out to focus her spell.“Yes, I think so. It’s up, but I don’t know if it’s what you are talking about. Last time you said to make a sphere with my hands...”

  “We will try the wall then. Is it between you and I? If not move it, so it’s halfway in between.”

  Kayla, concentrated on trying to move the wall, and found it was very easy to do, and it took almost no magical energy to make the thing.

  “I’m not sure about this Myst. It doesn’t feel very shield like, and it is taking hardly any force to keep it up. It is just as unsubstantial as the sphere thing we tried weeks ago.”

  “Sounds fine to me, Kayla. Now, I am going to send a very weak bolt of energy at you. Don’t worry. If it goes through your shield, it will just give you a little shock, nothing serious.”

  Myst let Kayla get ready, and then he pointed a finger at her. Suddenly, a green bolt jumped from Myst’s hand, and streaked towards Kayla. The magic energy seemed to hit an invisible wall, and it just disappeared.

  “See, it worked.”

  Kayla was proud of herself. She really liked being able to do these things; it gave her a sense of competence that she enjoyed.

  “That, unfortunately is the only defensive magic I know,” Myst admitted. “If you work on varying it, you will hopefully find other defenses. This one is only good against most energy attacks. But the good thing to know is that defensive magic takes only the smallest fraction of your strength to use, compared to offensive or manipulative magic. It is also more effective than the other types of magic.”

  “What do you mean, more effective Myst?”

  “I mean, as I was telling you before, he looked over at Moss, that if someone slightly more powerful than you, cast an offensive spell at you, you could stop all of his spells all day long. But the greater the difference in the two power levels of the mages, the more likely they will get through your shield. Maybe not with the first spell, but if they weaken it enough, they can break through.”

  “So if there are two mages about the same level of power, they can’t touch each other. What do they do, then?”

  “Lassie, that’s what you got us for,” Moss answered her while patting his battle ax.

  “That is one of the major weaknesses of offensive magic. If the other side has mages, then it’s all up to the fighters. Oh, before I forget, Kayla, no matter what your power level is as a mage, you will have problems with the defensive magic of a Priest. They have very little offensive magic, but the defensive magic they get from their God is much better that what a mage can do.”

  “Will I have to worry about fighting a priest?”

  Thomas looked over at Kayla and answered her question, “You are thinking only of the Priest of Good, of The Creator and the Goddess of Nature his consort, but remember that the Demon Goddess of Death also has priests, yes? And what about those that worshipers of the lesser Gods? Yes, those demigod cults are less common, but some people do follow them, and some of the demigods are less than benevolent. Most of them seem to fall between the extremes of The Creator for good, and the Demon Goddess for evil.”

  Kayla thought about what Thomas had said. She knew that most people worshipped one of the three greater Gods, or both The Creator and the Goddess of Nature as many did, but quite a few people also worshipped the demigods that held power in a specific area. But almost no one worshipped them in exclusion of the main Gods, and that was what a priest had to do; to follow his or her God exclusively to gain power from them.

  “You might find yourself at odds to the followers of Mithras, the soldiers’ demigod, or the demigoddess of Seduction, or any number of other of the smaller sects.”

  “Really, are there that many priests who follow the lesser Gods,” Kayla asked skeptically.

  Moss stood up and stretched, “You would be surprised about that. Think about the Star Elves. How many of them worship the demigod of Wealth exclusively. They are a race of merchants after all. Who is more important to them financially?”

  Kayla thought over all that she had learned about magic and found another question that puzzled her. "Can I create Rune Magic as well"?

  "Well," started Myst thoughtfully, "maybe, you can. Probably you can learn to bind objects with magic. It is a unique skill that some mages can do, and others cannot. Let me see if I can help you. Magic is everywhere, like the air around you, and mages can manipulate through themselves the different flows of magic. Some mages have the ability to endow objects with magic. To do this they use Magic Runes, that enchants magic into the object, the rune is what locks it in."

  Myst pulled out his sword, and showed her the base of the blade, where the stylized Earth Runes was emblazoned on the side with faint blue and green writing.

  "This binds my sword with Earth Magic, that keeps it unnaturally sharp and hard to break. Zarra's tulwar has the Fire Runes on its blade, that causes the blade to sear whatever it cuts. So will you be able to do this with your Fire Magic. Only time will tell."

  After the lesson, everyone seemed to be settling down for the night. Moss wandered out of the camp, to start the first watch. He found a boulder just above the camp, which gave a good view of the surrounding area. He sat down and got comfortable, his war ax across his knees. The night was dark, and neither Moon was in the sky, a reasonably rare occurrence each night.

  Moss thought of his friend, Myst. “Boyo’s got it bad for the blonde Elf lass,” he told himself. “It’s about time for him to find a mate and settle down a bit. She seems a real nice lassie... Hopefully, we can keep her in one piece for awhile.”

  Later the next morning, Moss wandered out from camp to where Myst was standing watch. Actually he was playing with his Sun Sword again; jump here, lunging there. It was tiring even just to watch.

  "Having fun, Myst," Moss asked as nicely as was possible for a Dwarf this early in the morning, particularly one without having had any coffee?

  Myst moved from one form to another; his sword cutting the air in an audible whoosh. Myst chose not to answer him, and Moss was not overly surprised. They had known each other for a century, and Moss had kidded Myst about his 'Sword Form' exercises for most of that time.

  "What's that one called, Flying Monkey?"

  Surprisingly Myst answered, "Hunting Crane."

  Whoosh. Whoosh.

  "And that would be, hum, let's see, Prancing Pony?"

  "No,-- Drunken Dwarf."

  "It was no such thing, it was Striking Leopard," Moss responded indignantly!

  Myst finally looked over at Moss, and winked, having caught Moss in his own jest.

  Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh, went the blade cutting more air.

  "Come on, it's time for breakfast. We got a long day ahead, no time for playing with yar toy." Moss headed back to camp, with Myst following. They had been friends so long, Moss didn't even mind Myst getting one up on him, well not much anyway. “Drunken Dwarf, har that was almost a real joke, bloody elves” Moss chuckled.

  ~

  The desert mountains narrowed, and forced the party to use the caravan road to get through a low pass. The area was a strange sight to Myst, with tens of thousands of round boulders, in v
arying sizes from a large cottage to the size of his fist. What had caused the strange rock formation, he hadn't a clue.

  Moss might know, Dwarves having both Water and Fire Magic abilities. They knew a lot about oceans and mining. And mining meant digging through rocks. But Myst decided that he really didn't want to know the answer, if he had to listen to Moss expound on the nature of rocks for two hours, just to get a simple question answered.

  The road turned, and suddenly from behind a really large round rock, there appeared a merchant’s round top wagon, six big dray horses, and the team’s master standing looking at a broken front wheel.

  As he approached, Myst sent out a wave of Earth Magic, but the wagon master was the only person in the area. But a dangerous looking character he appeared to be, about six foot two, and two hundred thirty pounds of well corded muscle. At first glance, he might have been mistaken for a thickly muscular Elf, but the ragged brown hair, large hawk nose, close set hooded black eyes, and short beard, proclaimed him to be a Half-Orc.

  “Blah, a Horc…,” Moss spit.

  Myst, sent another burst of Earth Magic, to check the area. You couldn't be too sure, not with a Half-Orc. They have a well deserved reputation as violent and unpredictable, tending to be loners and extremely self centered. They frequently travel, not feeling comfortable in any one place for long periods of time, not even in their own cities.

  Distrusted by both Orcs and Elves, Orcs do not let them into their society as full members, and the Elves treated them the same way. It was not the Half-Orcs’ fault, that they were the product of Orc soldiers raping Elf captives, or of Shadow Elves sampling the local Orc populations. Nowadays of course, most of the Half-Orcs were the product of Half-Orcs breeding together, but still the stigma and anger was a deep trauma to the Elven society, which abhors such violence towards women. The Orcs see them as inferior and not trustworthy, but frequently useful as tools to their conquest. And so the outcast Half-Orcs fill the bottom rung in both Orc and Elf societies; thieves, pirates, slavers, assassins, mercenaries, whores, panderers, and disreputable merchants, were what Half-Orcs became.

  The Half-Orcs have founded some small city states in outlying areas in the wilderness, and in the last few centuries a major country, Ishmara, far to the south. Nardak on the north continent was not truly a country, just a defined place of anarchy with warring cities and tribes of Half-Orcs and Wild Elves…

  Myst kind of liked some of the Half-Orcs he had known, yes they were not as attractive as Elves, true they spent their free time drinking rot gut whiskey, brawling, and whoring, but besides all that there was a simple honesty. Well honesty was not the right word for Half-Orcs, perhaps simplicity or directness was a more accurate description.

  "Greetings, my name is Myst. You lose your caravan? It’s dangerous for a merchant out in the Waste, alone."

  The stranger smiled a rather slippery looking grin at Myst. His hands on his hips, and no weapon in sight, Myst noted carefully. The merchant was wearing tight leather pants and soft leather boots and vest, all in a very light shades of brown; effective camouflage out in the desert. Studded leather wrist bands, and a myriad of scars, proclaimed that he had spent much of his life as a mercenary, and not a merchant.

  "I am called Mordu Reese, merchant, and yes I seem to have lost my caravan, and then the wheel fell off the wagon. Would it be possible to get a hand in lifting the wheel in place? I would be most grateful to you, master elf."

  “Well how can you tell when a Half-Orc is lying to you,--- when you see his lips moving,-- at least that’s how the old joke went. And old jokes tend to have the right of things. Mordu Reese, had not lost his caravan group, because he was never in one, an illegal arms trader to the Orcs is what he is, I am sure. No other reason to be out this way by himself; you don't just lose caravans, not with dozens of triad wagons and hundreds of guards patrolling all sides of the slow moving things.”

  "Sure, why not. Moss, help the unfortunate merchant."

  Moss gave him a dirty look as he went over and held the wagon up so the Half-Orc could get the wheel on. The dirty look was because Dwarves disliked Orcs, and by extension, Half-Orcs, more than any other of the peoples, even more than the Elves who pity and feel somewhat guilty about the plight of the Half-Orcs. Dwarves simply mistrust them more than anything but Goblins, and consider them ten times more dangerous. Killing Orcs and Half-Orcs, was the normal Dwarven response when coming across them, not helping them change a wagon wheel!

  Moss got his back under the front end and lifted it up, with not much effort for the strong Dwarf. Myst noticed, as the Half-Orc lifted the wheel in place, the hilt and blade of a Falchion, a heavy curved sword made for hacking through armor and looking much like a scimitar, had slipped from under a blanket on the driver’s seat of the wagon. Myst had already noticed a brace of throwing knives hidden in the merchant’s boot tops. But Myst was more than ready if it came to trouble. A basic 'Magic Power Bolt' was itching to jump from his hand and fry the Half-Orc if things came to trouble. It was the only offensive spell that Myst could do, and not many of those at one time, but they almost never miss, and would be more than sufficient to end the fight, before it could get started.

  "My thanks, Master Elf," the slippery smile was back. "If I can ever be of service."

  "Now you mentioned it, how's the road ahead, any problems?"

  Mordu Reese could not have believe his luck. A profitable trip selling weapons to the Quintara Orclands; they had paid far above normal prices, and now having lost a wheel in the middle of nowhere, threatening the profits hidden under his seat, and now this silly Elf shows up and has his Dwarf servant help fix the wagon. It had taken Mordu Reese ten years working as a mercenary caravan guard, to earn enough profits to set himself up as a weapons dealer. And now he would have enough to expand his operation, get out of the stinking Waste, buy a couple good looking slaves, and who knew where things might lead. Maybe he could open up his own brothel, ah now there was a dream to come true.

  Mordu Reese, opened his mouth to lie, but somehow found himself telling the truth, "I think the Orclands are planning a major raid into Tuscan. Be careful if you head that way, Lord."

  Myst could tell by the flash of surprise, that just for a second had lit the Half-Orcs eyes, that he had actually told him the truth.

  “Wonders never cease.”

  "Thanks for the information, friend, safe journey," and leaving the still surprised Mordu Reese, they headed down the trail.

  ~

  More days of trudging through the barren waste followed. Each night, they slept huddled in their blankets due to the deepening desert winter. Fire was out of the question; it would only draw the predators to them.

  Myst was walking point, picking out the trail and looking for potential ambushes. They had not had any significant trouble for days; the waste was quiet, too quiet it seemed to Myst.

  Topping another dusty hill, Myst stopped short. There before him, across a wide valley and before a low ridge of desert mountains, stood a beautiful city of gold. A sixty foot wall surrounded soaring towers and minarets, all deep gold in the late afternoon sunlight. A great columned palace stood in the center of many massive stone buildings. The city was not really made out of gold, but from a rare golden colored marble, and no one lived in this great city, not for ten thousand years.

  “It looks the same, every time I see it. Hell, it probably looked this way since the cataclysm. Well, I guess the Star Elves built the thing to last in those days.”

  The city was once known as Dachron, the second largest city of the old Star Elven Empire. By now, the rest of the party had caught up with Myst.

  "And the damn Star Elves haven't done anything worthwhile since they built her," Moss stated loudly.

  Zara gave him a dirty look, but said nothing.

  "It's lovely, really lovely." Willow stared at the golden city, in wonder. “It is, but is it safe to stay there? Are all of the rumors about the ruined cities false, if not…” "It would b
e nice to sleep someplace with walls and a roof. Perhaps a fire?" Willow was pleading to Myst.

  "While I've heard the rumors, I've never meet anyone who had seen anything amiss in the cities," Thomas added to the argument for staying the night.

  "It would be nice," chimed in Kayla.

  "There may be water in the cities deep wells," added Zara.

  Myst gave in, "Ok, let’s go."

  They made their way across the valley, to the city’s main gate. Instead of having normal doors, the gate was a giant stone circle, blocked by a thirty foot stone wheel, that somehow must roll to allow entrance? But how it worked, they had no idea. And after ten thousand years, would it even worked if they found its secret?

  Zara walked up to and searched the wall, feeling the stone with her fingers of her right hand. Seeming satisfied, she went to her pack and started pulling out the things she needed. A thin 100' silk rope, she slung over her shoulder, and a ring with small spikes she clipped on her belt. Walking over to the wall, she leaned against it and started to take off her boots. Barefoot, she looked up at the high wall, and digging into her pouch she pulled out a hair tie and put her dark hair into a ponytail.

  "Looks pretty smooth," Myst cautioned. He was enjoying the way her firm breast stood up, as she was pulling her hair back.

  "No problem, I can make it."

  Reaching high over her head, she somehow found a crack. Inch by inch, she worked her way up the side of the wall. Below, everyone looked up at her swaying backside and was suitably impressed, and not just at her climbing ability.

  About half way up Zara stopped, took one of the little spikes from her waist, and forced it into the wall. Using it as a step, she continued up and immediately had to reach for a second spike. Myst had only seen about a half dozen of them, when she clipped them on.

  “Hope she doesn't run out of them…!”

  Zara used two more spikes, and then found better handholds, and was soon at the top.

  Sitting on the wall she looked around, enjoying the view. She had used her Air Magic to get up to the top, just a little push of two, but that did not stop her from enjoying the feeling of accomplishment, no not in the slightest. How many Elves had any skill in Air Magic, and she was proud of all her many extraordinary skills, if she did say so herself.