Gaolin explained that he had noticed an increase in the number of creatures in the area. Thankfully they paid little attention to the ruins of the old elven town, although one or two had ventured as far the gateway to what was once the outer wall. “I’m not sure why they come that close and turn away again,” the elf said, before pointing out the direction from which the creatures always came. “How far further west they originate from I do not know, but they never emerge from any other direction.” Galdrac nodded, and despite the information being a little vague, it did narrow down the area of origin quite significantly.
“Why do you think the creatures never venture into the town. Surely if they sensed life here they would have attacked and destroyed you?” he asked as they made their way back down.
“Again we believe it is the goddess Heralin that protects us,” Gaolin replied before suggesting they walk a little further away from the church grounds.
As the two left the small oasis of life in the centre of Beseklin and ventured out amongst the ruins, Galdrac thought of a question. “Why is it you believe the goddess protects you? I mean there must have been hundreds of small villages and towns that had survivors from the war, yet you are the first we have ever found.” He hoped the question was not taken in the wrong context, but merely him wanting to know Gaolin’s thoughts on the matter. The elf just cast him a smile, “I believe she has kept us here for a purpose, although I must confess none of us really knows why.”
Gaolin showed Galdrac what was once the market square. This was apparently the hub of the town, where elves from all around congregated to sell their wares and fruits of their labour, now nothing more than a vacant space with pieces of rubble scattered about. The buildings around it had all collapsed over time, although the fountain at the centre still remained in reasonable condition, although no waters were flowing within it. “The statue in the fountain is a depiction of Heralin,” Gaolin explained.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Galdrac mumbled under his breath.
If indeed these few elves had been kept alive by their goddess, there was surely a reason for that being the case. As if reading his thoughts, Gaolin spoke about the exact same subject. Despite already saying he had no actual reason as to why they were kept alive, each of the elves had their own idea as to why that might be. “For instance, I believe we are here to rebuild, once the taint has been removed from the lands,” he explained suggesting they walk a little further.
Galdrac remained quiet, listening to the various reasons as to why this small oasis of life existed. If the taint was to be removed from the land, he assumed it would take some godly power to do so, but kept the thought to himself. “Perhaps you have something. A trinket or weapon that might assist the fight?” he suggested thinking maybe his find of the ring was not the only curious artefact out here in the wilderness.
Gaolin chuckled, “The only things of value here our apple tree and the fruit it provides us.” Galdrac just nodded, feeling a little disappointed that’s all there was; not that having an apple tree was a bad thing, it just wasn’t the kind of thing he had hoped for.
As they headed through the rubble and back towards the church, Galdrac pondered. Perhaps Gaolin was right, and the only reason they were here was to help rebuild, although personally, he could not see that happening anytime soon. Whether the whole goddess thing was right or not, he presumed there must be some kind of power at work to enable the small oasis to survive. Perhaps that was it, these elves were here to give a sign of hope to others, though if that were the case, it seemed a pretty lousy reason.
Galdrac felt even the air around the area of the church smelled better, fresher almost as if the taint upon the land did not affect this particular place. After thanking Gaolin for the guided tour, he wandered back up the narrow steps to the top of the tower to gaze westwards and the direction he had sent two of his scouts. He did not think they would return anytime soon, yet by some chance, he might see them if only to check things were well. He gazed down at the land surrounding the church, and from his elevated view could see where the fertile land stopped and the tainted land started. It appeared as if a complete circle had been drawn, and while everything outside it was bad, everything within it flourished.
Galdrac could see that the church was the centre of the invisible border, and noticing this got him thinking. As a young mage, he was always praised for his ingenuity and quick thinking. While the years may have taken their toll on his once youthful looks, his mind was still sharp. “Something in the church,” he said thinking aloud. Yet there was nothing of note on the roof, nor inside the building. “Perhaps underneath,” he mumbled to himself.
He quickly turned about and with a new purpose, hurried down the steps and back into the main room of the church. He looked around for Gaolin but could not spot him, and so headed for one of the older elves sat contently staring into empty space. “Excuse me,” Galdrac said politely hoping he was not interrupting some silent prayer. The elf slowly turned his eyes his direction. “Is there a crypt or some other kind of basement here?” The elderly elf just nodded very slowly and pointed to a small door at the far end, Galdrac had not even noticed before. “Thank you,” he said before hurrying towards it.
The door opened relatively easy, although he could not see any further in, and knew he needed a lamp to proceed. After rushing over and lighting one of the oil lamps he had unloaded from the waggons, he ducked under the lintel of the doorway and gingerly stepped down several dusty looking steps. Using his staff to support himself, he felt glad when he reached the bottom and back on level ground.
In the flickering light of his lamp, he could tell the crypt nearly matched the footprint of the room above, although the ceiling here was much shorter. With just about enough room for him to stand without stooping, he assumed an average sized elf would not have had a similar problem. As he ambled over to one wall, he could see several sealed off sections, and knew that behind each panel would be the remains of an elf. Probably little more now than a pile of bones and rags, he did not feel the need to intrude further upon them.
There were a few statuettes along the far wall, probably depictions of some elf of importance long ago, but it was not these he was interested in. Stood in the centre of the crypt was a short stone pillar, which at first glance looked nothing more than just that. Standing about three feet in height and circular in appearance, he decided to take a closer look. The top was flat and much smoother than the sides, but as for its purpose, he was unsure. Why would they have a random stone pillar in the centre of a crypt, under a church? Despite holding the lamp closer to see if he could make out any markings, he spotted nothing of interest. Galdrac even ran his hands across the stone, in hope, there was maybe some form of indentation, anything that could suggest this was something unusual.
He was so convinced this pillar was somehow responsible for what was happening around the town, he did not hear the sound of footsteps approach. “Father says it is blessed by the goddess…”
“Don’t tell me, Heralin,” Galdrac interrupted before turning to see the young elven girl stood behind him. “Yes your father seems to think she is responsible for a lot of things around here,” he added dryly.
The girl just smiled, “If you’re looking for something on the stone there are some words written around the base,” she replied. Galdrac nodded his thanks and returned his attention to the pillar.
Holding the lamp as close as he could to the stonework and leaning down, he could indeed just make out some kind of inscription. The only problem being, it was written in old Elvish, a language he did not know very well. Galdrac turned back to the elf, “I don’t suppose your father has told you what this says, has he?” he asked. The girl nodded, “Of course. It is a message about being re-born. Father says it is Heralin letting us know that the lands around here will one day be as they once were.”
Galdrac scratched at his wiry beard, straining his eyes to see if he could actually make any of the words out for h
imself. “What does it actually say?” he asked. The girl merely shrugged, before turning about and heading back up the stone steps.
Galdrac looked around for anything else of interest, but aside from the closed graves of the dead, the room was bereft of anything of note. The only way he could find out exactly what was written on the stone pillar would be to find Gaolin, and deciding there was nothing else for him in the crypt, duly headed back up the narrow steps to the nave of the church.
With his scout’s due back shortly he picked up his pace a little and duly found the elf he was looking for outside picking apples from the tree. Galdrac, with his staff in hand, cleared his throat announcing he was there. The elf turned and smiled, offering him an apple, which he politely refused. Food was short here, the last thing they needed was for him to start taking what little they had. He waited patiently while the elf collected just a few more, noticing how he only took the fruit ready to fall.
As Gaolin turned about, holding his small basket of apples, Galdrac mentioned he had been down to the crypt and noticed the short stone pillar at the centre. “Do you think it is the source of the power here?” Galdrac asked. “It appears to be at the direct centre of the small area that remains untainted,” he added before Gaolin had a chance to answer.
“I believe Heralin, has something to do with it, and as long as we pray to her she uses the stone to give us our small oasis of life,” Gaolin replied.
Galdrac merely nodded. Gaolin may have been pleasant and friendly enough, but all this talk of the elven goddess being responsible for just about everything was wearing a little thin. However, not wanting to offend his host, he decided to change the subject just a little and move on to the inscription around the base of the stone. “Your daughter said you believe it refers to the rebirth of this town.”
“Indeed I do. It actually says, ‘My life has lived, my life has passed, reborn again from ages past’. Or at least that’s as good a translation from the elvish text to the common language as I can make it.”
Galdrac thanked Gaolin for the help and thinking it was time his scouts were returning, ventured back up to the tower to see if he could spot them. As he reached the top, mumbling the words over and over to himself, he was uncertain as to whether Gaolin had interpreted the words correctly. Surely the phrase ‘My life has lived’ would refer to a person, not a town, but then again as the inscription was very old and written in a different language, meanings of certain words might have been slightly diverse.
He stood atop the roof for a while, before he eventually spotted his two scouts riding back at a much faster than normal pace. He thought it strange until he saw the several dark shapes giving pursuit just several hundred paces further behind them. His scouts had evidently found a number of the enemy, the only problem now, was that they were leading them straight back to Beseklin. The elves here had no means to defend themselves, none who could wield magic, nor even any weapons. As quickly as he could, he scurried back down the steps into the nave to give warning they would be under attack very soon.
Chapter 21.
The elves in the church seemed far less panicked than Galdrac felt. After making sure all his own soldiers were awake and ready for action he tried to persuade Gaolin and the others to make their way down to the crypt for safety. The elf, seemed not to care about the approaching creatures, sounding almost dismissive about their chances, “Heralin will protect us,” he repeated suggesting they all kneel to pray to the goddess to ask her favour.
Galdrac fumed and cursed, “Stupid elf,” he grumbled, glad that those elves in his own group did not decide to do likewise. Knowing the town as a whole was far too large for his small number of soldiers to protect, he opted to set up his defensive line at the church. Making a stand here would also give the elves living there the best chance of survival, as it seemed they had no intention of fighting.
The two scouts pushed their already tired horses, as they managed to reach what used to be the main entrance to the town. Just a dozen or so paces behind, and almost caught up with them were five dark haired monsters, slobbering and salivating as they ran. With the main street not being as it once, both riders were forced to slow, dodging the piles of stones and rocks that covered the street.
Galdrac could see his men approaching from his position at the church, and more importantly the beasts behind them. At two hundred paces he ordered his handful of archers to prepare to fire, giving the order to do so shortly after, even though he knew them likely to be out of effective range. He watched on in horror as the rider at the back was thrown from the saddle as his horse stumbled. There was little he could do as the creature just behind him leapt upwards and came crashing down upon him.
The leading rider was at least given a little breathing space as his fallen comrade became the focus of attention to the other pursuing beasts. Galdrac puffed his cheeks as the rider finally made it onto the church grounds, his horse all but exhausted as it came to a halt just a few yards from him. “Get inside,” Galdrac ordered the elven rider, clearly in no condition to fight. The elf nodded, puffing and breathing hard, as he stumbled towards the church door.
With his archers in range, they scored several hits, although that did not stop the beasts. Galdrac swirled his staff about, summoning his magical abilities and manifesting a flame that fired out from the tip as he pointed it in the direction of the nearest beast. The creature dived to one side, dodging the ball of fire before it petered out a further fifty paces on. The human mage was about to summon another but stopped midway through, as he noticed something a little strange.
All of the creatures pulled up before they got to the lands around the church as if something was keeping them away. They moved left and right sniffing up at the air, growling and snarling, but they did not cross the invisible barrier. Not one to miss an advantage when it so readily presented itself, Galdrac asked his archers to all focus on one beast. A dozen or more arrows thumped into the creature, and after manifesting another fireball, he fired it that direction. The creature stumbled forward straight into his shot, and after a deafening roar slumped to the ground. As the thin tendrils of smoke drifted skywards, the other beasts merely turned about and darted off out of range of the arrows and Galdrac’s fire.
After watching the creatures disperse and head back out of the town, Galdrac first checked on the fallen scout. A youngish looking elf, although probably at least thirty years or more in age, spluttered his last breath as he died in Galdrac’s arms. With large gaping wounds from the claws and teeth of the beasts, he was surprised the elf had stayed alive as long as he had. Knowing the least he could do was give the soldier a decent burial, he waved for a few others to help.
The scout who had managed to escape was given a drink and a little food before Galdrac asked him to sit and give his report. The elf, probably in his middling years was an experienced tracker and rider, and yet had barely escaped with his life, while the news he gave was not particularly good, although it did seem to indicate they had possibly found what they had been looking for.
Several miles further south-west were the ruins of an old fort, although it was apparent there were hundreds of fresh tracks leading up to it. On closer inspection, the scouts had discovered the ruined building being used as some kind of production facility. Lines of odd-looking pods spewed forth these beasts, producing dozens in the short time they had watched. The scout looked up at Galdrac, “These creatures are different to what we are used to. These are not the dim-witted easy targets we usually encounter,” he added.
Galdrac listened with interest, as his scout explained further. Not only were the beasts much tougher and quicker, evidence of which the mage had already seen for himself, but they showed a level of intelligence far beyond that of a wild animal. “There were various different beasts, some bigger than others, and some that seemed to command,” the scout explained. They had eventually been spotted, and at first thought, they had managed to slip away without incident. However, such was the intelligence sh
own, that a small group of creatures had circled around to intercept them further back.
After thanking the scout again, Galdrac sat on one of the pews in the church to think. His hand inadvertently felt the ring in his coin purse, something he had all but forgotten about since his arrival at Beseklin. He was certain his find was something quite significant, even though he knew so very little about it. With the forces of darkness amassing a much larger army than he had thought possible, he knew it would not be long before it was unleashed. With the elven lands just a few days ride away, he needed to warn them as soon as possible, to give them time to prepare their defences.
The druid in the group had proved all but worthless, and did so once more, as he explained the bird he was linked with refused to travel this far out into the wilderness. If a message were going to be carried, it would have to be done the more conventional way. Any thoughts of taking the elves at Beseklin back with him had long since gone, as it was clear they were probably in the one place that was safe from attack anyway. Whatever the reasoning behind the creature’s unwillingness to cross over on to the church lands, he was unsure, but it was evident the elves here were probably safer remaining here as they were.
Return of the Darkness Page 16
