Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “You mentioned that the krypters have masters,” Timoran says, focusing on the information he knows he should report to his leaders. “Do you know who they are?”

  “The Lich and Trinity,” Nyx blandly states with a roll of her eyes. “It’s always the Lich and Trinity.”

  “The Lich is involved right now, but Trinity is not here,” Isaiah explains. He chuckles at the frown of disappointment on the half-elf’s face. “Surprisingly, I know nothing about the creature that prepared all of this. It seems this being created the krypters and left the area, assigning the Lich to oversee them. All I know about this being is that it is incredibly powerful and dangerous. If there was a hierarchy of evil, this figure would be a dominant predator like a dragon or a shadow shark. You should be thankful that it has decided to step out of this situation.”

  “We should report this immediately,” Timoran whispers. He is about to walk away when Nyx grabs him by the wrist and tries to pull him back. She is barely able to move his arm, but he politely steps back to hear what she has to say.

  “I want Isaiah to show us that the Lich and the krypters are together,” Nyx declares, ignoring the barbarian’s worried expression. “We need to see if they’re truly under his command or simply obeying their former master’s orders. The more details we can bring Tzefira, the better our report will be and the quicker we can finish this mess.” Nyx pauses when she remembers something and stares into the autumnal forest. “That terrifying presence wasn’t the Lich or the krypters. Do you know what it was, Isaiah?”

  “I didn’t sense anything,” he admits with an apologetic shrug. “I can think of a few local beasts that use a fear presence to keep predators away. You may have accidentally startled one when you were patrolling.”

  “It is a possibility,” Timoran agrees, stroking his chin and thinking of the animals he has seen in the area. “I have not run into any that can do so, but it does not mean they are absent from this land.”

  “Then, we’ll leave it alone for now,” Nyx begrudgingly states. “Let’s find more evidence to bring back to Tzefira.”

  Nyx turns on her toes and marches off in the direction of the swamp. Timoran rushes to walk in front of her, noticing that she has a white-knuckle grip on her weapon. He turns to see that Isaiah is gone, but a small, black-furred monkey carrying a gnarled stick is now bounding through the branches ahead of them. With a deep sigh, Timoran follows the furry form, a scowl stuck on his tanned face.

  “I do not like this, Nyx,” he whispers.

  “Neither do I, but Isaiah wouldn’t show up simply to poke around here,” Nyx replies in a low voice that only Timoran can hear. “There’s something going on in Hero’s Gate that he isn’t telling us about. I want to get a look at the Lich and the krypters to see if I can figure out their secret. I’m depending on you to get me out of this alive because I’ll have to do something that I’m not going to like.”

  “Upon my honor, I will bring you home alive and in one piece,” Timoran swears without a second thought.

  *****

  “Stay here,” Nyx whispers to Timoran as they near a tree-covered hill overlooking the edge of the swamplands.

  With Isaiah bounding ahead of her in his monkey form, Nyx creeps along the ground until she can peer over the hill. The other side of the hill steeply rolls down to a swampy lake that is calm and black. On the far side of the lake is a horde of krypters feasting on a pack of slaughtered dread boars. The massive hogs have been torn apart, their gnarled tusks and metallic hooves discarded into the lake. Standing behind the krypters is a familiar figure, his body cloaked in black robes and an aura of magical shadows.

  “We’re too far away to hear anything,” Nyx complains.

  “I refuse to bring you any closer to them,” Isaiah says with a high-pitched voice. “The krypters will be able to sense you.”

  Nyx swallows a growing lump in her throat. “I thought they could only do that if I use my magic.”

  “They have become more attuned to your presence,” Isaiah replies while patting the half-elf’s arm. “The krypters are individual monsters, but they also have a magical connection. Once you touched one of them with your magic, the others learned of your return to Hero’s Gate. They are hungering for you, but the Lich has been keeping them at bay. I feel nervous bringing you even this close to them, so let’s not push our luck.”

  “I’m ready to run to my big, dangerous barbarian at the slightest sign of trouble,” Nyx promises with an excited grin. “Can you cast a listening ear spell over them? The krypters won’t notice your aura and the Lich isn’t foolish enough to confront you.”

  With a furrowed brow, Isaiah waves his furry arms in the air as if casting an invisible net over the area. He turns to Nyx and roughly flicks the tip of her left ear. A high-pitched screech erupts in Nyx’s head, lasting for a few agonizing seconds. She cringes and grits her teeth in pain until a distant, muffled voice pushes through the static. It is a wispy, sinister voice that she finds almost laughable when she thinks of all the times the Lich has failed to kill her and her friends.

  “-left me with you useless creatures,” the Lich complains to the growling krypters. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with you. This must be another plan to turn the master against me. That bastard has always hated that the master accepted me as an agent and occasionally listens to my opinions.”

  A krypter turns to hiss at the Lich, who flicks his boney hand at the creature. The krypter explodes with a deafening blast, scattering chunks of rotten flesh into the polluted lake. The other krypters stop eating the dread boars and rush to devour the remains of their murdered kin that have fallen on land. Nyx struggles to calm her stomach and avoid throwing up as the sounds of their slurping and crunching echo in her sensitive ears.

  “You will not learn much from this,” Isaiah whispers as he works to weaken his spell without erasing it. “The Lich is alone and does not appear to have any idea what he’s doing. The one who created the krypters seems to have left him in the dark. We are witnessing a power struggle between the Baron’s minions and I doubt the Lich will be the victor.”

  “I have to learn something that can help Tzefira,” Nyx insists, nervously chewing her bottom lip. She rubs her necklace and shakes her head, her hair covering her face. “I had a bad feeling that I would have to do something like this. Prepare to run, Isaiah.”

  “Don’t cast any magic,” Isaiah warns her.

  Nyx ignores the chattering monkey, her eyes already glowing a bright yellow. Isaiah swiftly retreats to get Timoran while Nyx looks down at the krypters again. The monsters shift in and out of her vision as if they are tricks of the light while a void marks where the Lich is standing. Focusing her sight on the krypters, she notices hundreds of black aura threads in the air. Following the strings, Nyx realizes that they are running from the krypters to her body. With a choked cry of fright, she watches several of the krypters suddenly come into focus and screech at her. None of the monsters are moving toward her, which makes her anxious and barely able to move. She musters the courage to slowly wiggle away when one of the bigger krypters reaches into the air. Nyx watches in terror as the krypter wraps several of the aura threads around its clawed hands. The other krypters do the same thing as the first krypter prepares to pull on the threads.

  “Timoran!” Nyx screams before she is pulled off the ground. She closes her eyes, expecting to slam into the waiting jaws of the krypter pack. Instead, she feels a massive arm wrap around her waist and violently yank her back to the ground. The force nearly pulls her shoulders out their sockets and knocks the air from her lungs.

  With gasping breaths, Nyx opens her eyes to see Timoran standing over her, his great axe in his hands. The krypters are soaring through the air toward them, which Nyx assumes is a new power gained from tasting more of her magic. Getting a longer look at the monsters, she can see them flailing and awkwardly twisting as if they have been launched against their will. She grins when the krypters get close eno
ugh for Timoran to cleave three of them in half with a single swing. The remaining creatures crash to the ground around them and scramble to their feet, but they refuse to get within range of the barbarian.

  “They really don’t like you,” Nyx mentions as Timoran picks her up and slings her over his shoulder.

  “We have had words with each other in the past,” the barbarian says with an edged laugh. “I do not wish to put you in danger, so we are going to run. I can retreat without aide from your magic. Please hold on tight.”

  Timoran roars at the krypters, causing them to shrink away from the primal warrior. A clear path opens up and he rushes through the hole in the pack, chopping a krypter’s head off as he runs by. He is deep within the trees by the time he hears the Lich scream at the krypters, followed by an explosion. The forest erupts with the sound of screeches and growls from the panicked krypters that have begun their pursuit. Timoran charges ahead as fast as his powerful legs can carry him and the added weight of Nyx. He glances at the caster every few seconds to make sure he still has a solid grip on her tense body.

  “I’m going to throw up,” she mutters after being jostled for five minutes.

  “If you think it will help then feel free,” Timoran calmly replies. He barrels through a patch of thorn bushes, ignoring the dull pain on his bare stomach.

  With a half-hearted snarl, a krypter bursts through a tight clump of bushes to Timoran’s right. The monster leaps for Nyx, but it is taken down by a skull crushing blow from the side of the barbarian’s great axe. Another krypter takes advantage of Timoran slowing down and tries to drop on him from the thick canopy. A bolt of green magic strikes the creature in the throat and it falls apart at the joints.

  “Keep running! I’ll take care of the krypters!” Nyx shouts, firing her crossbow at another monster to her left. She grins as the krypter melts into a puddle of muck. “I’m not going to be a helpless damsel! Run, Sir Wrath!”

  Timoran continues his grueling pace while Nyx destroys one krypter after another. He can feel her body steadily lose its warmth and the small hand gripping his shoulder becomes clammy and moist with sweat. He skids to a stop and gently places Nyx on the leaf-covered ground as the remaining krypters bound into view. With a savage battle cry, the barbarian rushes toward the approaching monsters. His great axe cleanly slices through the first krypter and he spins around to viciously knock a second into the air. It lands at his feet and he crushes its head under his boot while chopping a third monster into pieces. The last four krypters jump out of his reach and scamper into the trees, swiftly retreating through the branches.

  “Why did you stop running?” Nyx asks in a weak voice. She shivers and rubs at her arms, which have gone numb from an internal chill.

  “I feared you were growing ill because of your weapon,” Timoran claims as he crouches in front of her. “It would appear that your crossbow should not be used continuously. I would guess that it drains you of energy.”

  “Guess I found my limit,” she laughs, already feeling warmth gradually return to her body.

  Timoran picks her up in his arms and smiles at her childish frown. “Conserve your strength. I will carry you back to Hero’s Gate. I promise to put you on your feet before we come within sight of the city.”

  “This isn’t amusing in any way,” Nyx angrily mutters, crossing her arms and pouting. “I could use magic to scare you into putting me down, but I don’t want the krypters to come back. Also, I think I used my crossbow so much that my aura is still blocked. One of these days I need to contact Queen Ionia about her little gift. Maybe she can give me something better or find a way to improve the design.”

  “You have friends in very high places,” Timoran says, lifting Nyx onto his shoulder where she awkwardly sits. “My tribe has trade and military treaties with Queen Ionia. She has been very kind and respectful to us. Past rulers of the magic city have either ignored us or declared war, so we are indebted to her for breaking the cycle.”

  “Maybe that’s why your tribe is so leery of magic,” the half-elf suggests as she tries to keep her balance.

  “It is a possibility that I never considered,” he admits. He stops to put Nyx on the ground and rubs at his shoulder. “If you would indulge my wisdom for a moment, I do not think you should change your weapon. You have a great power within you, but there is always a high risk with such power. If you were to lose control of your aura, your crossbow could be used to prevent a great disaster.”

  “It can also leave me defenseless,” Nyx argues, trying not to scowl at the barbarian. “I understand your concern, but aura doesn’t randomly explode out of control for no reason. The only time in Windemere’s history that has ever happened was during the Great Cataclysm. That wasn’t even an hour of chaos. We should pray nothing like that ever happens again. If it did then my aura going wild would be the least of Windemere’s problems.”

  “It would still be a problem.”

  “Only for me.”

  “And those around you.”

  “I would find a way to protect them.”

  “How would you-”

  “I would find a way, Timoran!”

  “I apologize.”

  Nyx glares at the large man before sighing and looking to the sky. “You really should stop saying whatever is on your mind and apologizing for it. I understand you’re an honest man who is trying to be helpful, but you have to learn what sets a person off. You’re smart enough to figure it out and adapt. Then again, I doubt a man of your size and strength has ever had to worry about angering someone. It’s probably easier for you to speak and apologize.”

  “Does it feel strange to be without your magic?” Timoran politely asks, trying to change the subject. “I assume it would be similar to me losing one of my senses, which would be very debilitating.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Nyx states with a gentle laugh. “I lost access to my aura once before and I struggled to get it back. Thankfully, this sensation is nothing like that. Right now, it feels like a cork is on my aura and it is slowly fading away. Back then, it was closer to a brick wall that refused to break no matter what I tried to do. I felt naked and defenseless, even when I was surrounded by people who could protect me. Almost like my skin was missing and my insides were at the mercy of the elements. I’m sure you get the point by now.”

  “It must have been a traumatic experience for you,” Timoran says, unsure of what else he can say. “I hope you never have to go through that again.”

  Nyx smiles at Timoran and reaches out to squeeze his hand. They continue walking in silence until they can see Hero’s Gate through the thinning trees. Nyx is about to step into the open when Timoran stops and whirls around. She rolls her eyes in frustration and looks around, noticing a mass of shadows prowling through the trees. The shadows are slipping toward the pair from every direction, including the canopy. Occasionally, one of the short creatures steps into the light and Nyx recognizes the red-skinned form of a goblin. She sees several of the creatures are carrying nets, but none of them have drawn their weapons. Remembering the razor-sharp teeth and claws that tore at her skin during the goblin swarm incident, Nyx doubts the goblins need to carry weapons. The goblins stop several yards away, sniffing at the air and whispering amongst themselves.

  “Stand behind me,” Timoran demands.

  “No,” Nyx replies. She takes a deep breath and gently pushes Timoran away. “I need to handle this on my own. Please find Luke and tell him to come for me, but to not use any force when he arrives. I promise to keep myself alive.”

  “Do not be foolish,” he hisses, watching the red-eyed goblins. “They mean you harm.”

  “Yes and they have every reason to want to hurt me,” Nyx whispers, turning her attention to the goblins. “I surrender! I request that you take me to your village, so I may atone for my crimes against you! I promise in the name of Tanki, god of goblins, that I will not harm you!”

  The goblins inch closer to Nyx, gradually surrounding her and T
imoran. The small creatures cautiously eye the large warrior as Nyx lets her hands be bound behind her back. She gives a final, calming nod to Timoran before allowing the goblins to lead her away. The barbarian watches helplessly as she bravely walks among the pack of goblins that grows with every step she takes. After several minutes, the distant form of Nyx vanishes behind a tree and the goblins fade into the shadows.

  “Listen to me, Tanki,” the barbarian growls, running his hands through his fiery hair. “I will lay waste to your people if you let them harm that girl. If you doubt that I can make good on such a threat then speak with Kerr and let him tell you exactly what I am capable of. I am sure the barbarian god will paint you a convincing picture of my true battle rage.”

  *****

  Luke rolls his eyes as he trudges ahead of the squad of loud, heavily armored mercenaries. He glances at the canopy where Conrad is swiftly leaping and swinging from branch to branch, sending a gentle cascade of leaves to the ground. The calico pauses to look down at Luke, shrugging helplessly. Luke holds up his hand to get the mercenaries to halt and walks back to the relaxing warriors. Conrad silently drops next to him, but keeps his eyes ahead in case trouble approaches.

  “We have to make a new plan,” Luke bluntly states, yawning and scratching his head. “I understand that you don’t want me going too far ahead and getting killed, but I’m too close to these guys. Their racket is making it impossible for me to sneak up on anything. I really think I should be further ahead and call back to you if there’s trouble.”

  “I understand your frustration, but I don’t see why you need to be so far ahead if I’m in the trees. I can see for nearly one hundred yards from up there,” Conrad politely counters, his ears tufts twitching. “Would you prefer being the rear guard?”

  “That defeats the purpose of me being a scout,” Luke replies with a charming, half-hearted smile. “I don’t think Tzefira factored in the issue of having two scouts in one party. At least, two scouts who want to be in the front of the hunting party. Can I remind you that you took point on the last two hunts?”