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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/313430-Chapter-1
Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #906385
In a land beset by sorcery, a band of Druids are forced into battle by the Queen of Blades
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#313430 added November 8, 2004 at 3:57am
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Chapter 1
Our forces have withdrawn from the Pearl City. The armies of Windrider proved to be to much this time. We have been on the retreat for three days now. We are heading to the last druidic stronghold in the south. The Pass of the Star-Eyed. Windriders troops have been persuing us since our abandonment of the Pearl City. They have launched several skirmishes on our army, but nothing of great note. Dragonmoon, our Priest Adept, has been using all his powers to keep Windrider's terrible powers in check. I am afraid that we might not make it to the Pass. It is another two days march. It seems that this war has been waging for an eternity. It has been a slow retreat, first from the southern shores, to the Ebony Gates, and now from the Pearl City. Shekara's forces are better equipped and her mages better spell casters then ours. Even the Druidic Circle can not equal their combined powers. I can only hope to record the events of this war so that my brethren, both fallen and standing, will be remembered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Been at this god damn running for to long!" Crossbow settled beside our puny fire, after placing a few extra logs on it. The big northerner had been with Dragonmoon's division form the very beginning. Unlike most in the army, he was not druidic, but a Tarn, hailing from a region across the Misty Sea. He, like many Tarn, were sent over by allies of the Circle. He did not share our religious out look on life and had no need for such things as simple as gods. He preferred the coldness of the battlefield to the warmth of a home hearth. He didn't like the fact that the enemy was out there and we were moving the other direction. He un-strapped his weapon, from which he gets his name, and began needlessly cleaning it. A bad habit he did when he was either restless or nervous. No one knows Crossbow's real name, and most people seemed to be content with his alias. The army is a haven for men on the run from the law.
"Well, Tarn, if you think you know better then our Priest Adept, at how to defeat 'Rider's army, then perhaps you should speak up." Raider sneered. He and Crossbow have never gotten along. From the first day they met they couldn't stand one another, Radier was another man no one knew much about. He was a Spell-blade, though not one of great skill like those employed by the Queen of Blades. I guessed he was another man running from his past. Raider didn't like Crossbow for two reasons, one being he found Crossbow's view of religion insulting and the other that he was not druidic. Since the rise of the Black Citadel most of the racial tension in the Freelands have dropped off, but a few still stick to the old ways of thought, Raider being one of them.
Crossbow glared across the fire at his rival, but said nothing.
"They say that Darksaber defeated Whitecrow in the Badlands and is marching toward Scorn." One of the men around the fire said. I grunted.
"If Shekara's armies had achieved half the things that rumor says they have, we would all be locked inside Oak or Thorne making a last stand." An army feeds on rumors, it is unavoidable. Ours is no different.
Raider grunted his agreement. A sudden bright flash startled everyone around the fire. In the distance a great white glow erupted from Windrider's camp. It swirled and began to reach in our direction. After it covered half the distance, the white glow ran into Dragonmoon's resistance spells and began to stagger and fade. So has it been for the last two nights. I don't know much about sorcery, but I reckon that both Windrider and Dragonmoon were getting pretty ragged.
"Looks like Windrider is getting impatient." Jayden came and sat down beside me. Although he is one of the youngest in our division, only 17, his wit and intuition are razor sharp. Raider has told me that the kid has the ability of sorcery, however being Tarn like Crossbow, he despises magery as a dishonorable way of fighting. All Tarn are the perfect warrior. Tall, fare-skinned and healthy as an ox.
Another brilliant flare illuminated the night, this one drew closer to our camp before Dragonmoon could respond to counter it.
Crossbow muttered something along the lines of "Why are we just sitting here waiting for them to pick us off" and tossed another log on the fire. No one was in a good mood these days.
Rustling began several yards away from my group and spread quickly through both rumor, and herald. It reached us. Stormweaver was on the move. Last we heard she was in Tamber recovering. She had some how managed to cover the miles between Tamber and the Guthry Plains, just southeast of our main force, in a matter of days and was coming fast. I leapt up with everyone else and began dosing the fire and scrambling to make ready. Dragonmoon wanted to get the hell out of dodge. He could not hold two members of the Black Citadel in check. They were too powerful, and his under-studies had almost all been killed during the war, when they were shoved into uniform and made to join. He wanted to rejoin with Whitecrow at Scorn, just north of the Pass of the Star Eyed, presuming that the rumors of her failure were false. Faint lightning in the distance that revealed a massive thunderhead building up and heading our direction was the confirming evidence that any non-believer would require.
Within a surprising short time we were all loaded up and beginning to move out. Fear is a great motivator. The thunderhead in the distance, had gotten bigger and the lightning was so frequent that it seemed there was one large, constant roar of thunder. The wind had risen dramatically, and the air had grown colder, as it does before a big storm strikes. Though it seemed that it wasn't moving at such a fast pace as when it had started. I figured that was Dragonmoons doing. Flash! Crack! A violent explosion of white light raged out of night several miles south of us. It was so bright that it turned night into day. It reduced itself to a strong white glow that seemed to wave as if a great wind were blowing it. It shed enough light still to see the ranks of Windrider's army marching forward, at what seemed a unnaturally slow pace. The huge black thunderheads could now be seen clearly. I counted at least three. The white glow began to rise and reach for us. It came fast, then slowed, then sped up again. Each time it slowed the waves became more violent and it seemed to lose flare.
The storm approaching regained it's normal speed. We had been moving ten minutes when I felt the first raindrops. They were few and seemed to come in spurts. The white glow had slowed and was no longer as brilliant. It seemed to be more of a light haze then a glow. Lightning began to appear in the clouds over head. A few bolts found there way to the ground at the edge of our army. Screams erupted. The clouds suddenly cut loose with a furious down pour. The rain came down so heavy I was knocked to my knees, as was Crossbow and Raider. I staggered up, Lightning began ripping away, striking with deadly accuracy, as if guided by some skilled hand. The outburst of lightning quickly faded to a few strikes every now and then. It continued to flash up among the clouds. As we continued to march, I passed areas where the lightning had left blackened craters of melted sand.

We marched until noon the next day and then stopped to rest. We had out distanced Rider's army. I suppose she didn't want to catch us immediately. Her and her fellow general's magic could inflict more harm. The skies had cleared, but the earth remained damp, and smoking in places. It had been a rough night. I wondered around looking for any sign that my friends might have made it through alive. I found Crossbow after just a couple of yards. He looked rough. He had gotten a pretty good shock from a lightning bolt that landed to close. Behind him Jayden was cooking them a meal.
"I see you two made it through the night alive, the gods must have a sense of humor after all" I joked. Jayden looked at me puzzled, and went back to cooking.
Crossbow said "We're almost there"
I wasn't aware of what he meant till he pointed it out. I hadn't noticed but you could see the Pass from here, it seemed only half a day away.
"What do you suppose we'll do when we get there?" I asked.
Crossbow grunted.
"We might have a chance to hold them off, if we can get to the Pass. Numbers won't matter then." Jayden said, and handed me a bowl of corn mush. Of all things I must say that Jayden is a good cook, best in the whole damn army.
"Numbers might not matter, but you forget that they have two spell-slinging bitches over there who fight like cowards." His close call last night must have really gotten him riled up. He said the last part loud enough for Raider, whom was walking by, to hear. Raider just sneered and keep moving. I asked a few more questions for conversation's sake, but didn't get any response greater then a few more grunts. I finally gave up and sat down across from Jayden and began feasting upon my great meal of corn mush.
"Well you guys look as sorry as a pack of two dollar whores!"
I spun around to see Silverwolf walking toward us. He was Dragonmoon's right hand man. He had taken a liking to me when I first joined up, a life time ago. He was the one who taught me both to read and write. I hadn't seen him for almost a week. I surely thought him dead.
"Where the hell have you been?" I asked stunned.
"Helping Dragonmoon save your sweet little ass from Imperial Phsyco Bitch One and Two." He looked like death warmed over. He was one of the few surviving pupils of Dragonmoon and almost as skilled in sorcery. Like every user of magic that I have ever met or heard of, he has adopted a Casting Name. No one has ever made clear to me as to why sorcerers take on different names. It has something to do with a true name being the source of power, therefore is hidden well. I, personally, think they just want to be called by some flashy and mysterious name.
Jayden dished out another bowl of mush and handed it to Silverwolf, who accepted it with tired enthusiasm.
"So any word when we might be able to get some god damn fighting done, and not so much god damn running?" Crossbow asked Silverwolf, who winced at the mention of god's name in such a profane way. Crossbow must have really been shaken by his experience last night, he never spoke that way to an officer, sorcerer or no sorcerer, but Silverwolf overlooked it.
"Whitecrow is moving south as we speak, we should met up with her on the other side of the pass. Then we might be able to push Rider and Weaver back or if nothing else, stop their advance."
"Can two members of the Circle match the powers of two from the Citadel?" Jayden asked.
Silverwolf looked at the youngster, but did not respond. I think he was afraid what the answer might be.
"We have had reports about contact with the enemy Calvary. Mainly they are just harassing us. Dragonmoon doesn't want a big fight until we can join with Whitecrow."
I turned to study the Pass, It might be another two or three days before we reached the other side. The Pass is about thirty miles long, but only twenty feet wide, with steep, canyon walls. It cuts through the Shagora Mountains, which are almost completely impassable during the summer and impossible during the fall and winter. The only other way north from the Ebony Gates are two roads, one leading to Tamber and the other leading to Stable.
"Ashe! Damn it, pay attention" Whitecrow snapped.
"Huh?"
"Dragonmoon wants to see your new maps of the area that you have been plotting. He wants you and Raider to accompany me back." I glanced at Raider, who had come back by. He just shrugged. I sighed and went back to eating. I didn't wanna go tramping to the other side of the camp, I wanted to crawl back into my bed roll and sleep for another six years, but there was no point in arguing.
I finished eating after Whitecrow and drew myself up, tossed my bowl to Jayden and started following him and Raider toward Dragonmoon's command post. It was a hell of a walk. I was sweating and breathing hard before we reached the door to the Command Tent.
"You need to get into better shape Ashe! My dead grandmother could out walk you." Raider said shaking his head.
"Bite me! I'm as fit as ever." Which was a flat out lie. He just shook his head and entered the tent after Whitecrow. The inside of the tent was hot. There were to many people in a closed area. Dragonmoon stood at the far side of the tent, surrounded by his captains. He wasn't a very big man, and didn't look the part of a battle-mage of great power. If you met him on the street and didn't know who he was, you wouldn't look twice. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, I would guess. He wore a simple dark blue and silver-highlighted robe. His hair was white, as was his beard. Dragonmoon looked terrible. His normally braided hair was frizzed and unkempt. He had huge bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was pale and seemed permanently winded. He didn't look up from what ever he was working on till we were right up to the table. Everyone seemed to be busy doing something or telling someone to do something. When he did look up his silver eyes seemed drained and empty. He stuck out his hand, waiting for me to give him the maps. I, however, being so intelligent, reached out and shook his hand. He scowled and pulled his hand back.
"The maps Ashe!" His voice was high pitched and creaked.
"Oh!" I reached around to my pack while everyone snickered and shook they're heads. I fished out the maps I had been working on and handed them to Dragonmoon, who unrolled them and laid them across the table, over the maps of the North. He studied them for awhile, occasionally pointing something out to one of his captains. I just stood there feeling odd. Raider took advantage of a near by empty chair.
"We can move up the Pass to this point and hold out till Whitecrow meets up with us, which shouldn't. . . . . . ." He stopped, his hand still raised for half a second. Then shouted "s***!". A deafaning clap of what sounded like thunder sounded so violently that the ground shook. Everything went chaotic. People began bellowing orders, others ran outside. Silverwolf jumped up and ran out, as did Raider. I just stood there like a still tree in a raging storm. Dragonmoon was muttering something strange and the air around him seemed to crackle. His gestures were sharp and jerky as if he was struggling with a giant, invisible serpent. I stepped back a few steps. He continued to wrestle with whatever it is he was fighting. I had no idea what to do, or how to help him, or even if it was possible to help him. Someone grabbed my arm and jerked me backwards out of the tent. I stumbled backwards and hit the ground hard. Another deafining blast erupted, this was accompanied by a reddish flash and I could see a plume of dust and dirt rising from our lines further south. I got to me feet, and turned to see Silverwolf standing over me, acting as Dragonmoon had in the tent. Raider was beside him, but doing nothing but staring southward. I yelled at him to get his attention, he trotted over to me so he could hear me better. There was noise and panic everywhere.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked
"Windrider got one of those white-glowing spells off before Dragonmoon could counter it." He pointed to a dozen large whitish-red glowing balls of light hovering in the sky.
"That big white curtain thing turns into those?" I asked confused.
He looked at me blankly and said "Yes. . . ". I guess it was painfully obvious to him. One of the balls above suddenly shot down from the sky. It waved and bobbed as it came down but eventually hit the ground. The ground shook and another deafining blast, that sent dirt, smoke and other debris shooting into the sky. This time I managed to stay standing. Another ball shot down, but it appeared to come a part on the way down, by the time it reached the ground there was nothing of it left. I guessed they neutralized that one.
A ragged looking scout came galloping up to the command tent. He leapt off his mount before it completely stopped. He ran up to the tent and pushed inside. Soon after there was shouting and the tent spilled all it's contents except our Priest Adept. Officers started forming up their ranks. Crossbow came running up. He looked like he had seen heavy fighting.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Windrider and Stormweaver's armies are on the move. We are already engaged with Windriders infantry." He shouted.
Another deafining clap, so close it knocked everyone to their knees. Raw earth and rock rained from the sky. Everyone took a beating. I staggered up with Raider's help. No more then thirty feet away a huge crater remained smoking. It was completely white. A few white- charred bodies lay amongst the smoking rubble.
"Motherf***er!" I stated in shock. I had never seen battle-field sorceries up close before. I looked up to check on the remaining balls of light, only six remained. Those left waved and bobbed violently. Crossbow returned to his feet. A sinister black cloud bank began building south of us. It seemed to seethe and flicker with lightning. A funnel cloud formed and dropped down to form a tornado.
"Stormweaver is playing rough!" I stated. The wind and thunder was so loud I had to shout.
"Silverwolf!" Someone called from behind us. I turned to see a frazzled Dragonmoon standing in the entrance to his tent. He looked hurt.
"Get the men moving, we have to make the Pass by nightfall. Whitecrow has already made it and she's waiting on us. Stormraven is with her."
"Yes, sir." Silverwolf said and ran off to find the other officers.
The chaos taking place at the southern end of the army was evident from where I stood. Windrider and Stormweaver play rough. The roar of battle could be heard as well as the screams of the wounded being brought in.
". . . your gonna have to re-map them! Ashe! Damnit, listen to me!"
"Huh" Yet another sparkling gem of wit. I turned around to see Dragonmoon still leaning against his tent.
"I said the maps you gave me have been burned badly, I'll need you to march with me so we know where things are"
I was dumbfounded! I had spent hours and hours making those maps. It was damn hard work, and now they are just gone! Without thinking I asked "What did you do to them?".
He looked surprised. Then he eyed me hard.
"Fire you twit, now come on!" He looked pretty pissed, I didn't question anything more. Angry wizards are never a good thing. I followed him into his tent. It looked like a mighty gale of destruction had blown through. I quickly located what was left of my maps. All that remained was a pile of ash and a few black and brown pieces of paper. All that time and hard work! Gone! I grumbled and cursed to myself and started to move out.
© Copyright 2004 Pentacle Prince (UN: enchantedelf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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