The Sorcerer’s Ascension
Book One of the Sorcerer’s Path
By
Brock E. Deskins
ISBN 978-1-4658-6750-6
Cover Illustration Copyright 2011
Cover art by Brock E. Deskins
Copyright 2011 Brock E. Deskins
Copyright, Legal Notice and Disclaimer:
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold
or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
To my wonderful children: Jenice, Josh, and Elissa.
Open your minds, spread your wings, and fly as high as your imagination will take you.
The Sorcerer’s Saga
The Sorcerer’s Ascension
The Sorcerer’s Torment
The Sorcerer’s Legacy
The Sorcerer’s Vengeance
The Sorcerer’s Scourge
The Sorcerer’s Abyss (Coming Soon)
OTHER BOOKS BY BROCK E. DESKINS
Shrouds of Darkness
The Portal
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
From the Author
FOREWARD
For most of history, the races existed as a scattering of destitute settlements, the largest of which could be called cities. Dragons ruled the lands and oppressed the races for their masters, gods whose existence has been forgotten through the ages. Two thousand years ago, the elves discovered how to wield the Source, a mystical energy which allowed a few to weave powerful magic. Sharing this knowledge with those who possessed the ability, the races united to cast off the shackles of oppression and live as free people, or die trying.
The most brilliant dwarven blacksmith, Dundalor Ironforger, crafted five magnificent suits of armor and gifted them to the greatest warriors amongst the races. Imbued with the magical ability of rune carving, Dundalor enchanted the suits to be able to withstand the awesome might and terrible magic of the dragons. The races banded together, and led by their heroes, fought for their freedom in the Great Revolution.
Decades of slaughter cast a black pall over the land, but the races would not relent. To surrender would invite their destruction as punishment for challenging the old gods and their dragon overlords. With the aid of the new gods, a time of freedom grew from the ashes of their dead.
No longer united in a cause greater than their differences, the races became strangers once again. The elves withdrew, fearful of the rapid growth of the human realm. The dwarves sought sanctuary beneath the mountains, and the humans hailed their first king, Magnus Ollandar, the only hero to survive the Great Revolution. Magnus led the humans during a tumultuous time, putting down those who wanted to divide the new kingdom and claim power for themselves with the aid of Dundalor’s magnificent armor. Magnus created a bloodline legacy, tying his progeny to the throne for all time. One of those descendants, fearing another bloodline could use the armor to usurp the throne, ordered the armor scattered to the farthest corners of the land and the records of its existence destroyed.
Today, a new Ollandar, Jarvin, bastard son of Harlan Ollandar, sits an unsteady reign. Unhappy with Jarvin’s rule, many of the wealthier and more influential nobles plot against the bastard king but none with more fervor than the powerful duke of Southport. The overwhelming support of the common people keeps the traitors from seizing the throne by force, so Duke Ulric searches for the fabled armor in hopes of using its influence to take the throne with minimal bloodshed and establish a new bloodline.
CHAPTER 1
Captain Darius Giles watched as his crew loaded the last of his precious cargo aboard his ship, Storm Runner. The trinkets, jade statuettes, ivory carvings, animal pelts, and gold jewelry as well as local pieces of art and other exotic goods would bring in a small fortune even after he paid taxes and salaries.
Two men approached him as he stood on the dock supervising the loading of his cargo. Despite being a clear, warm night, they had the hoods of their cloaks pulled up, casting their faces in shadow.
“You are the captain of this vessel?” The taller of the two men inquired.
“I am Captain Giles. What can I do for you gentlemen this evening?”
“We require transport for a piece of cargo,” the hooded stranger replied.
Darius looked from the men to the laden cargo net stretched taut with the last of his heavy, wooden shipping crates. “I’m afraid I’ve a full hold, sir. Perhaps another ship will call to port and they can help you.”
“It is expected in Southport as soon as is possible, and yours is the next ship departing. I assure you, it does not require a great deal of space, just the discretion of an honorable man,” the enigmatic stranger assured him, undeterred. “I have been told that you are such a man.”
“I like to think so. I would have to inspect this cargo myself so I know it contains no contraband or illegal items. I’m a loyal King’s man and I’ll break none of his laws, especially those that could mean the loss of my ship, cargo, crew, or life.”
“That is precisely the type of man we seek.” The hooded stranger reached into his cloak and produced a scroll. “Look upon the seal, sir, and you will note it is the King’s own. Inside you will see that our request is done with the explicit agreement and authority of the King.”
Captain Giles examined the seal and found it was either authentic or a forgery of exceptional quality. He broke the seal and read the missive by lamplight. In simple terms, it requested the services of a reliable ship’s captain to deliver a small container of cargo to Southport with the utmost speed and discretion. The cargo was a state secret and not to be opened by captain, crew, or customs. A second group of men would meet the captain upon arrival in Southport where he will be provided with a similar document as proof of receipt of the aforementioned cargo. Any evidence of tampering discovered by the receiving party would be cause for charges of treason and espionage, both of which were punishable by death.
“All right, gentlemen. Bring the crate, and if it is small enough I will secure it in my own berth,” Captain Giles directed.
“That will do just fine, Captain,” the man said, handing him a purse heavy with coin. “This should be more than sufficient payment for transport of such a small piece of cargo, and your personal assurance of security.”
Twenty minutes later, the two men returned carrying a wooden crate with handles on two sides. They carried their burden to the Captain’s quarters and secured it in chest after Darius made room. They then left without another word, disappearing back into the darkness of the foreign city’s streets.
Captain Giles decided to sleep in his cabin that night instead of celebrating with his crew on their last night in port before catching the morning tide. He was in possession of the King’s pro
perty, and he would not relax his vigil over the special cargo.
Storm Runner set sail in the morning with the rising tide. The large, three-masted ship caught a favorable wind and pushed out to sea. The wind was proving favorable and propelled the ship along the gentle swells of the sea at a respectable clip. Captain Giles said a quick prayer of thanks to Serron, god of the seas, for their continued good fortune.
This had been a long and circuitous voyage. It was going on three months since they had sailed out of Southport, and he was eager to be home again with his beautiful wife, Celeste, and his son, Azerick, just as he knew his crew would be anxious to return to whomever or whatever was greatest in their own desires.
Darius let his mind drift to thoughts of his family. He thought of Celeste with longing. Although she had been his wife of fifteen years, she still held his heart just and strongly today as on the day they met.
Azerick was thirteen and as smart as any boy he had ever seen. Darius decided he would spend some time at home and let the other captains he employed take care of the shipping duties of his maritime trading company for a while. He needed to stay at least a couple of years at home and, if the gods willed it, give his son a little brother or sister. It was not as if he hadn’t tried to do that on his previous times at home between his voyages, but this time he would devote some real time to his family instead of his work.
After all, the business was doing well and could almost run itself without his constant attention for a time. He would have to find a good captain to take over his flagship, Storm Runner, while he stayed landlocked. Maybe it was time to reward his first mate by promoting him, as he deserved. Zeb was a good man; honest, hard-working, loyal to a fault, and kept a tighter ship than any captain he employed, including himself. Besides, Zeb had been a first mate since Darius himself began his sailing career. As he leaned on the aft railing looking out over the ocean, a call from the crow’s nest broke him out of his reverie.
“Sails, four points off the port bow!” cried out the lookout.
“Heading?” Captain Giles called up to the sailor on watch.
“Cutting across on an intercept from the looks of it, Captain,” came the answer a full minute later.
“Arm the catapult and ballista, man the scorpions, and draw weapons. Prepare to defend the ship,” Darius ordered as he stalked across Storm Runner’s rolling deck.
Zeb chased after the sailors, ensuring every man was armed and at his station. The crew cranked back and loaded the ballista on the aft deck and its smaller counterparts, the scorpions. They wound the catapult on the foredeck, locked its swing arm into place, seated jars of flammable oil, which they would light just before launching them at the enemy vessel if forced to defend themselves.
Pirates have been the plagues of the seas for centuries, especially this far out where Valaria’s meager navy did not patrol. His was a paranoid, aggressive response but for good reason. Few merchants risked this dangerous voyage, which made his cargo so valuable, and Darius would not lose it without a fight.
“Tack three points to starboard. We’ll see if we can outrun them.”
“Unknown ship tacking to match new heading, Captain, and still on an intercept course,” the update came about ten minutes later.
Captain Giles cursed their ill-turning luck. “That’s all the proof I need to call them pirates, boys. If we can’t outrun them, fire as soon as they come within range and send them to Serron if they choose not to let us pass.”
The Captain’s proclamation was met with a loud huzzah of support from his crew. The chase continued for hours before the other ship came within range. The crew of the Storm Runner could see the pirates on the deck of the pursuing ship now aiming their own foredeck catapult. The ballista had a greater range than the small catapult, and his men started launching its two meter, steel-tipped shafts at the advancing vessel.
The javelins cut ropes, sails, and any man unfortunate enough to be in the bolts' path. One of the bolts found purchase when the bow swung wide and presented a flat plane and punched through the hull.
The pirate ship soon came within range to use its own catapult and began flinging chain to tear sails and foul the rigging. It also stripped men out of the rigging perched there with loaded crossbows, ready to unleash their quarrels on the pirates as they came within range.
“Load incendiary pots in the ballista!” Captain Giles ordered.
His faithful and fearless crew obeyed his commands without hesitation, replacing the heavy ballista bolts with the oil-filled flasks. They launched the flammable jugs as soon as one of the sailors lit the wick. The clay pot sped through the air with in a moderate arc and shattered as it struck. The incendiary burst into a spray of liquid fire, wreathing the front of the boat in fire, but the sea spray from the rising and plunging bow washed the oil and flames away.
The sailors manning the heavy weapon raised their aim and fired a second shot, which shattered into the deck of the pursuing vessel. The crew of the Storm Runner cried out in triumph as the deck of the enemy vessel caught fire. Their elation was short lived as the pirate crew smothered the flames with buckets of sand. The enemy ship may have been crewed by degenerates and scum, but the pirates were an experienced lot. It was apparent they had soaked the deck with saltwater before engaging, and the burning oil was extinguished and did little damage to the wooden structure.
Chain shot and fist-sized stones continued to tear into the rigging and rain down upon the deck and heads of Captain Giles’ ship and crew.
“Damn these pirates! Just our luck to get a pirate ship with a first class crew! Zeb, have some of the men bring up a few barrels of that demon fire from the hold,” Captain Giles ordered.
“Demon fire?” his first mate paled. “Are you sure?”
“Damn it, man! If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn't have issued the order! Now move it!”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
It was unheard of for Zeb to second-guess his captain, but fire was one of the greatest fears on a ship, and demon fire, or dragon’s spit as some called it, was the most flammable substance known to man. It burned so hot it could reduce a man to ash and bones in moments and could not be extinguished by water. Minutes later, Zeb and several sailors had four barrels of the volatile liquid brought to the rear of the ship.
“I want a plank strapped to each side of the stern at a downward angle to create a trough. When we pour this stuff out, I don’t want any of this infernal concoction to touch any other part of my ship!” Captain Giles ordered.
Zeb and his fellow sailors lashed a six-foot long, one-foot wide plank at the rear of the ship on each side to create a track for the heavy liquid to follow in order to keep it off their vessel.
“Open up those barrels and pour ‘em down the runnel. Quickly now! You men grab torches and carefully swab a bit of that mess on to each of them and lash them to a ballista bolt then throw the casks over the side as soon as they are empty! ”
The pirate vessel had done significant damage and was overtaking the wounded Storm Runner. The pirate crew ceased launching chain into the rigging and sails and now their catapults flung small stones and shards of metal in an attempt to clear the deck before boarding.
Captain Giles, Zeb, and a handful of sailors, hidden behind the ballista and the aft railing, remained on deck since the Captain had ordered the rest of the men below, but they were all prepared to rush back topside to defend against a boarding party.
Captain Giles used the empty, floating barrels as reference points to time his attack. He let the pirate vessel get near the first barrel before ordering his men to light and fire the ballista bolt into the shimmering, oily stretch of ocean between them and their pursuers.
The combustible liquid floating on the surface of the water burst into flames when the torch struck the oily sheen. The pirate vessel plowed through a blazing river of fire flowing atop the rolling swells of the sea.
The conflagration stretched a few feet in the air, and adhered to the hull of t
he attacking ship and ignited any wood above the water line. Left to its own devices, the demon fire would even burn below the water. The pirate captain realized the mortal danger he and his vessel were in and ordered his crew to swing hard to starboard to get out of the narrow channel of deadly fire.
“All hands on deck! Man the catapult. You men resume firing the ballista. Zeb, bring us broadside to the nearest pirate ship!” Captain Giles ordered as his men scrambled from below decks.
The pirates attempted to extinguish the flames lapping up the side of the ship as the Storm Runner tacked alongside them and unleashed a volley of bolts, stones, and crossbow quarrels at the now helpless pirate ship and her crew. The pirate captain realized that between the fire and the vengeful crew of the Storm Runner, his ship was lost. He ordered longboats to be cast over the side as far away from the all-consuming fire as possible and prayed the other ship’s crew would have pity on them. The instant the longboats hit the water, the pirates leapt from the sides of their doomed vessel and swam to catch them. Unfortunately, two of the longboats hit at a bad angle and capsized.
“Bring the ship around to those longboats,” Captain Giles ordered.
“You want us to finish off the pirate scum with crossbows, Captain?” a sailor asked.
“I’ll not murder a helpless foe, even a pirate. But I won’t go out of my way to help them much either. Throw a grapnel to right those capsized longboats and float three barrels of fresh water over the side,” he ordered. “Who is the captain of this filthy crew?” Darius called out to the pirates now treading water or sitting in longboats.
“I’m the captain of what used to be the Insidious,” volunteered a heavyset, mustachioed man standing at the prow of one of the longboats.
“I am Captain Giles of the merchant ship, Storm Runner. Remember the name of the man who gave you and your men a chance to live. Zeb, order us on our way as soon as you get those longboats righted. I want men repairing that rigging and replacing those damaged sails immediately.”
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