Quarterstars Awakening

by David L. McDaniel

  He then arranged an assembly with all of the tribes and informed them of the new plan to annihilate the elven race from the northern realm. They were going to swarm them like locusts to crop. Once they agreed, he then instructed them to go home, work together, build weapons, and siege tools, train brothers and sons in the art of not just war, but total destruction and annihilation of the entire elven race. In six months, they would march upon the elves and punish them for their transgressions.

  Now his goal of building an army big enough to make a strategic offensive was almost complete. As he acquired new men under his command, he gave leaders of the individual tribes rank and command of his upper echelons thus giving them purpose and prestige within the force. He briefed them daily of his plans, and worked with them, teaching them, and building strong ties with each leader.

  Though the tribal leaders came from near barbarian cultures, that had lived in this area for hundreds of years, they were still only slightly more advanced than the gronts of the eastern forests where Dar Drannon first called home. In the end, it was not hard to sway them into joining as he offered them a bigger prize: The promise of elven blood.

  “Follow Commander Voll and march north to the Elven Kingdom. Attack their southernmost outpost that they call Fort Stone Elf along the way. We have hit that outpost a few times in skirmishes, but have never hit them with the force that we have assembled now. I want you to move the entire force out before the sun rises tomorrow. When you see the outpost, do not hesitate, do not falter, hit them hard and show no quarter!” his voice rose slightly with every word until he was nearly shouting and spitting in Voll’s face.

  Daegon then went back to Traelyn and kneeled before her, begging her for forgiveness for his anger.

  “I should have more trust in you,” he said looking to the ground on one knee.

  “Daegon, my son. You are the strongest willed of all my sons, and I love you for it, but I fear it will be your end. This war with the elves must not end in the destruction you foresee.”

  Daegon looked up at her, incredulous. “But Great Mother, you have instilled your hate of the elves upon me from a young age.”

  “Yes I have,” she said placing her hand behind his neck and kneeled to his level, looking into his eyes. “You must trust me in this my son. You trusted me in my hate, can you trust me in my compassion?”

  “I will do as you command Great Mother, but only because you command it.”

  “You mistake my meaning. I am not commanding you, rather I am pleading with you, because I know that your hate, if continued, will be your demise.”

  Those words repeated in Daegon’s head the whole trip south. All he knew was his hatred of the elves. She had made it his life mission to destroy the elves for her, since she could not do it alone. Now she wanted him to change his heart. Try as he may, he knew he would not change, nor did he want to.

  He rode in the drizzling rain never taking his eyes off of Naemyn, because he had removed Naeym’s bindings, but he still did not trust him. When the gray daylight disappeared, trading itself for the dark of night, Naemyn stopped the group to inform them that they were near. Traelyn had allowed Daegon to bring Traegon and five warriors for protection.

  No one spoke the rest of the way. Two hours later, they reached the base of the catacombs at the exact spot where Naemyn had fought the ravages. He dismounted his horse, reached inside the saddlebag, pulled out two torches, and lit them. He handed one of the torches to Daegon and walked towards the cluster of rocks on a small hillside. With the torchlight, he exposed a dozen or so dead ravages that lay in the mud while large black crows feasted on their carcasses.

  “What happened to them?” Traegon asked looking at the blood not only from the ravages, but also the dead elves that lay scattered throughout the muddied wood line.

  Naemyn only grunted his response.

  As they dismounted and unsheathed their swords, they heard a moaning sound coming from the carcasses. The crows immediately took flight and the only sound to be heard was the flapping of their wings as Naemyn yelled to get inside.

  Traegon and Traelyn ran to tie the horses up to a tree, but Naemyn shouted. “Forget the horses, we have to get inside now!! Everyone, inside now!”

  The horses were turned loose nickering, as it seemed that they could sense what was happening before the others did. First, the dead elves begin to rise, and then the ravages stood up directly onto their hind legs and stood there for a few seconds as if trying to figure out why they had been summoned back to the living. The elves were in even worse shape as they stood up and then sat back down shaking their heads, clearly confused. It did not take them long to figure out that what was happening to them was not natural, yet filled them with rage.

  When they stood up, their faces still covered in mud, they showed no sign of true life except for the blue tint glowing brightly in their eyes, shining so bright that most of their faces shimmered from the glow. Some withdrew their swords while others scrambled to find their swords, knives, or bows. The ravages did not bother looking for either sword or shield but barred their teeth and ran towards Naemyn and no one else.

  Naemyn, realizing both elf and ravage were coming for him raised both hands, clapped them together sending a shock wave all around his body knocking down every one, hoping that the living might recover quicker than the undead would.

  Luckily, for everyone, the gamble paid off. Daegon, Traegon, Traelyn and the soldiers recovered, though their ears rung and their heads ached as if they had just been hit by a fist-sized rock squarely between the eyes.

  “Follow me!” Naemyn yelled as they ran towards the rocky hillside.

  “Where are you going?” Daegon yelled. “There is no where to go!”

  Naemyn ignored him, stood with his arms above his head, and said a few unintelligible words before a rock on the hillside disappeared, exposing a black door.

  “Inside!” Naemyn yelled as he stepped aside and let the others inside as he prepared to cast another spell.

  One by one, and single file, everyone entered the entrance. When the last one scrambled to safety, Naemyn sent off another blast knocking all of the elves and ravages to their feet just as they were within inches of attacking the last human warrior that entered the entrance.

  Once certain that the threat had been successfully neutralized, Naemyn stepped inside, and magically sealed the entrance. In their rush, no one bothered to grab torches, but he realized quickly that there was no need for torches as the glow inside the cavern was brighter than when they were here before.

  Traelyn, Daegon, Traegon and the three human warriors stood in awe looking to the sky of the cavern seeing that there was the appearance of being outside underneath the night sky.

  “How is this possible?” Daegon asked.

  “The coming of Markenhirth makes it possible,” he answered in a flat tone, actually surprised at the stark differences since they were last there.

  The ceiling sky was dark with fuzzy stars shimmering, but the sky had a bluish tint to it as if it was an hour before sunrise. Naemyn took notes of the changes, as the clouds were flying quickly in different directions as if they were caught in an erratic wind current.

  “How can there be a sky and clouds in here?” Traegon asked.

  “Those are not clouds,” Naemyn answered flatly. “Those are Wraeths, and something has disturbed them.”

  Naemyn looked to his human companions for a reaction, but received none except for awe, with the exception of Traelyn, who had been upon this realm far too long to be awed by such events.

  “What has disturbed them?” Traegon asked after a long pause of watching the wraeths scatter and flit in the sky as if they had no purpose other than bats chasing insects in
the night air.

  “I cannot say for sure, other than maybe it is because the Markenhirth season is nearing.”

  The old elven kings had always considered this area sacred, so they began entombing their dead deep within the mountains. It was not until many years later that they discovered these mountains contained one of the Quarterstar shards. This led them to sanctify this area as the most sacred place in the whole realm. They soon learned that the spirits laid to rest within the catacombs were not completely resting. These spirits could not leave this entrapment and journey to their final resting place with the elven gods, instead a part of them remained to communicate truths to those left behind. This caused the catacombs to become a sought out destination for adventure seekers or scholars of the prophecies. However, most of them ended up becoming trapped and tortured wraeths themselves.

  “We need to keep moving,” Naemyn said, taking Traelyn’s hand, looking down as he kissed the top of her hand. Surprised at how soft her hand felt, he paused to look closer, and noticed that her knuckles were large yet her fingers were frail and bony which matched her long scrawny jaw line. This was the first time that he realized just how old she had become. The last time he saw her she was still a young beautiful woman just out of her teenage years.

  He took her hand and led her down the steps into the lower expanse of the entrance. As they walked, Daegon, Traegon, and their three warriors continued to look up at the open cavernous ceiling and the moving wraeths that were still floating about.

  As soon as Naemyn’s foot touched the soft bottom of the grassy expanse the wraeths disappeared and the ground began to shake violently. The shaking only lasted a few seconds, but when it stopped, everyone had lost their balance and was on the ground. Before they could stand up, long, skinny, over-stretched arms began to come out of the ground and grab their arms and legs.

  Traelyn began to sink into the ground quicker than anyone else, as she did not fight as hard as the others. Naemyn was the first to stand up, as he was familiar with the source and the type of magic that was being used. His Wrae and Kronn were much stronger than anything within these catacombs. Daegon, Traegon and the others struggled fiercely, but were not making much headway with the multiple arms that were holding them down, attempting to pull them underneath the mud.

  “Naemyn’s body began to shimmer blue and fade in and out of the blue light and darkness until the attacking arms no longer had anything to hold onto. Taking a shadowy ethereal form, he then floated near the humans picking up their swords that they had dropped while struggling to free themselves, and put them into their owners’ hands, before returning to solid form.

  “You must fight them yourselves, I cannot touch them, I can only evade them.”

  Daegon reacted first by taking his sword and swung about wildly. On his second swing and every swing after, he sliced the arms into pieces that fell to ground wiggling like bifurcated worms.

  Once he was free, he then charged over to Traelyn, dropping his sword and landing on top of her, grabbing her left arm, as her arm and her head were the only things exposed out of the muddy ground.

  “Traegon, help me!” he yelled as he pulled in vain, helplessly holding her as she continued to slip under the ground. Traegon still battled the arms that were pinning him down and could not free himself to help his father.

  “You cannot let her slip away!” Naemyn yelled, showing real fear in his voice, realizing that if he lost her, he would not be able to steal away the Quarterstar talisman from her.

  Muddy arms snaked their way around Traegon’s throat as he slashed the two that were at his feet, though he could not move any more than the sitting position that he managed to get to.

  The more he struggled to stand up, the more pressure the arms pulled upon his neck, choking and blocking his airway. Then arms wrapped around his chest, and he was about to give up when he realized that the arms were one of Daegon’s warriors. Traegon dug his heels into the ground and pushed while Trapper, another one of the human warriors, encouraged him to push hard. As Trapper pulled, Traegon pushed, but the arms around his neck tightened as he did so.

  “Keep pushing!” Trapper yelled as he strained to pull Traegon away.

  Push he did, but the more he pushed, and the harder Trapper pulled, the less he could breathe. Then, without warning, the arms around his throat turned loose. He flopped on his back and allowed Trapper to pull him free of the dozen or so arms looking for new victims.

  “Father,” Traegon said as he grabbed Trapper’s arm and pointed to him to help Daegon and Traelyn. As they ran to her, they saw the fingers of one of the warriors hands slip beneath the surface and seconds later the foot of another warrior.

  When they reached her, Naemyn guided each of them to grab her left arm and pull. Daegon, during the time Traegon and Trapper were freeing themselves, had managed to pull her out passed her shoulders.

  “Can you bring out your right arm?” Daegon asked her.

  “No, something has it and is pulling it down. Hurry, it hurts!”

  “Naemyn, what can we do? She is too old for us to be playing tug of war with her! You have to be able to help!”

  “I cannot help without hurting her further. The only help I can offer is to sever any body part that the wraeths have a hold of, and I know you do not want me to do that. Just keep pulling, they will turn loose, they are not that strong.”

  “But they are so strong, I can feel their strength pulling against me.”

  “They will tire, just hang on.”

  Hang on they did, for nearly an hour they fought, only gaining an inch at a time while Naemyn shouted encouragement. Though his encouragement wasn’t helpful for all the good he thought he was doing, he was merely reminding them that they needed to get moving, for he feared that the longer they took, the more intense the peril they were going to face when traversing deeper into the catacombs.

  They did not quit, even when Traelyn begged them to let her go. They pulled as hard as they dared and rested frequently by holding their position. They continued in this fashion, until finally, with a whimper and a cry, Traelyn passed out, which gave the men a little more encouragement to pull harder without fear of hearing her crying out in pain.

  Inch by inch, minute by minute, they gained ground and eventually pulled her free. When all that remained held by the ghastly hands was below her knees, the wraeths released their grip and Traelyn’s company pulled her out and rolled over in exhaustion.

  Naemyn gave them no time to relax. “We have to move. Let’s go!” he shouted picking Daegon up off the ground.

  “Let go of me elven scum!” Daegon shouted as he planted his hands squarely into Naemyn’s chest and pushed him back. He then bent to a knee and placed his arm behind Traelyn. “Great Mother…” he whispered. “We have to go. Please wake up.”

  He repeated that to her as he gently shook her. After the fifth time, her eyes opened, blinking quickly.

  “Oh, no,” she said, realizing that she was not in a safe place.

  “We have to go now,” Daegon said, bending over to help her up to her feet. Once she was on her feet, she looked around to get her bearings, straightened her blouse, and regained her composure the best she could.

  “What attacked us?” she asked, still stunned.

  “Not good beings, and not entirely of elven nature, but rather beings placed here not of their own will. Even though this is a place of respect, and reverence, it is also prison to the dead that do not die. I do not know why or how they got here, but they are here.” Naemyn explained. He had studied about these malevolent wraeth’s under Kroejin’s tutelage. He learned that their activity increased with the coming of the Markenhirth when the Sippling tree’s roots loosened their tight grip upon the realm, thereb
y allowing the cold frozen dark season of Markenhirth to take place.

  “Do you know where the shard is?” Daegon asked impatiently. “If you do, let’s go, before more of these things come.”

  “Precisely my intention. Follow me,” Naemyn said as he walked toward the center of the expanse. The soft grass squished beneath his feet, but began to harden with every step. Daegon, Traegon, Traelyn, and Trapper followed him. They crossed over many shallow two-foot wide streams as they wandered through the open expanse. Naemyn did not speak a word, but they trusted him that he had their best interests at heart and was not setting them up for another attack like the one they had just escaped from.

  After twenty minutes of walking across the expanse, they came to a solid rock cliff that stretched before them to the left and to the right as far as they could see with each side running into the darkness, fading out of sight. Naemyn did not stop and showed no signs of confusion as he turned to their left and walked another hundred feet until he found a seam and walked in between the wall.

  They found themselves in another section of the cavern that also had the appearance of no ceiling, and as Naemyn had predicted the wraeths were increasing in number. There were so many above, that instead of wispy clouds, it looked as if a storm was creeping in, covering many of the stars.

  They stood upon another precipice that overlooked another section of the catacombs. Stairs led down many flights into a maze of walls and twists and turns. Naemyn didn’t not waste any time looking at the maze below. Once again, he never spoke and expected the others to follow, which they did without question.

  Naemyn knew where to go and where not to go, he searched his memory from his tutorship with Kroejin when his master made him scour the maps of the catacombs and commit every angle to memory.