To give myself a bit of a challenge, I decided to start an episodic story. I'm not really sure which direction it is going to take, I haven't mapped out who or what is going to appear in it, or whether it will follow a similar structure each week. I'm just going to see how it goes, and hopefully I will have a new episode every Friday! Here is the first (of many)...
Crickets played their cheeping song, and moonlight filtered through the branches of the towering trees. The forest was still, which filled Nelevin with worry. He crouched behind an old rotting tree stump, his haunches starting to burn from holding the position. Slowly, he adjusted his posture without making a sound. An ice cold sensation swam through his legs and the burning faded. He eyed the clearing just ahead of him, but only bare patches of earth and moss-covered rocks looked back. Was this a trap? He had felt a shudder of doubt when he had arranged to meet with his mysterious aide. He held his breath as his ears picked up a murmuring from beyond the clearing. Voices. Coming closer. He strained to see who approached.
'Yes, here we are. Perfect. Well done Wormskall.'
'Thank you, Master. Wormskall knows it would be to Master's liking.'
Two figures shuffled into the clearing, and Nelevin could clearly see the difference between the two. 'Master' was a tall man, garbed in black with a long cloak and cowl casting a shadow over his face. Only the tip of his long, bony nose was visible, lit by the moonlight to give an eerie corpse-like hue. In his hand he held a dark wooden staff, misshapen and worn. He gestured to Wormskall with his free hand, who scuttled in front of him and unstrapped the leather sack he had been carrying.
'Yes, Master is happy with Wormskall. Wormskall is good.' Wormskall muttered to himself as he removed the items from the pack with anxious haste. He was the size of a child but moved around with a strange fluidity, as if he was made of mercury. His limbs were short but powerful and allowed him to lift the heavy looking rock-like objects without any strain, and placed them on the ground in what appeared to be a formation or order. Once they were set in place, he picked up a fallen branch and traced straight lines in the dirt between each of the large stones, and his Master stepped into the middle of the arrangement, where the lines intersected.
'I didn't think you would show up.' whispered a voice from behind Nelevin. He glanced around, eyes wide with surprise. 'Glad you did though, this is going to be pretty tough.'
Rizdok did not look the way Nelevin expected him to. He had built up an image of a behemoth of a man, muscular and dark, hate written across his features. Instead here was a slight, fair man, perhaps still a boy. His clothes were dark and thin, covering him but not giving any protection. He carried a small sword at his waist, and a sack made of coarse fabric was slung over his shoulder. He grinned at Nelevin, meeting his quizzical glare.
'Not what you expected? I get that a lot.'
Nelevin felt his face redden. He hadn't meant to show his shock, and looked away in shame. 'You took me by surprise, that is all.' He watched as the odd pair in the clearing performed some sort of ritual with the stones.
'These are the ones responsible for the Elder's deaths. They are using dark magic to bring spirits from the Otherworld to use as assassins. If we take their heads, it will get us a lot of coin. Are you ready Nelevin?'
'Yes, I was born ready. What is the plan?'
'You take the sorcerer and I will take his bodyguard.'
'Bodyguard?! He is three foot tall! And I get the one summoning spirits to do his bidding?! I don't think this partnership is going to last long Rizdok.'
'He is a Gromellek, Nelevin. Have you never come across one? Ha, you are in for a surprise! Anyway, I am going to go around the edge of the clearing. When you see me ready, put an arrow in the sorcerer and I will take the Gromellek.'
Rizdok crept around the edge of the clearing, always staying in the shadows and not making the slightest sound. Nelevin took an arrow from the quiver on his back and set it against the string of his bow, so that it was resting on the knuckle of his left hand where he gripped the shaft. Both men were ready.
'Master! Wormskall smells bad meat! Bad meat!' said the Gromellek with his nose in the air, sniffing. That was all Nelevin needed, and he sprang from behind the tree stump. While airborne he released the taught string on his bow, and sent the arrow directly at the cowled head of the sorcerer. As he watched the arrow near its target, the sorcerer raised his hand to meet it. Blue flames danced across his palm, and the arrow disappeared into the fire as if it was a portal to another land. Nelevin's face dropped, and the sorcerer pulled back his cowl and looked directly at him. His face was gaunt, his eye sockets set deep into his skull. His lips hardly covered his teeth, which looked as though there were too many to fit in his mouth. His skin looked grey, with darkness around his eyes like pools of ink. He did not look afraid at all, or even surprised.
Nelevin felt his skin shiver as the sorcerer spoke. Without blinking he fired off three more arrows, each one met the same fate as the first.
'Not too bright, are you?' the sorcerer asked, as he moved his staff with both hands. Orange sparks spat from the end of it, and a ball of light formed with a low moaning noise. Nelevin dived back behind the tree stump just before the ball of fiery energy shot passed him. What next? he thought.
He peered over the lip of the stump and saw Rizdok charging towards Wormskall. Nelevin could not believe his eyes. Wormskall seemed to be scratching at his skin, tearing the clothes from his back. He let out a mighty roar, and fell to the floor. His entire body looked as though it was vibrating, his skin turning redder and redder. Nelevin thought he heard a ripping sound, and watched as the muscle and sinew tore and grew across Wormskall's body. Finally, he stood stretching his limbs, his joints cracking and crunching. He was now at least three times taller, arms as thick as a normal man's chest and a grotesque bulging head dripping with glistening fluid. A clawed hand shot out and grabbed the onrushing Rizdok by the throat, stopping him in his tracks. The short sword he was wielding flailed around, cutting in to the flesh around the beast's wrist. Wormskall bellowed in pain, and threw his assailant sending him smashing into a dead tree next to Nelevin. He lay unmoving for moments, before moaning and turning onto his back. He managed to croak at Nelevin.
'Throat. You have to cut his throat.'
'How am I supposed to do that? Maybe when he was three foot tall, but now I can't even reach his throat!'
Interrupted by another war-cry, Nelevin pulled 2 arrows from a quiver strapped to his right leg, aimed and released sending both arrows at the beast. They struck him in the chest, stopping his roar and causing him to look down at the thin splinters standing out from his flesh. A swollen hand lifted and tried to pull them out, but he could not get a purchase on them. Frustrated, he roared to the sky, both hands raised towards the heavens. Nelevin didn't hesitate in sending every arrow he had at the beast, each one puncturing his throat and lodging there.
'Master?' Wormskall croaked, gurgling with the blackened blood that spilled from his lips. He stood where he was, looking at his master, pleading visible in his bloodshot eyes. 'Master?'
The beast toppled with an earth-shaking thud, dead. Rizdok was already up and moving past Nelevin. He reached into his sack and pulled out three silver blades, each the length of writing quill. Rizdok shouted in a tongue Nelevin did not recognise, and threw one of the blades. He span, throwing the second and then the third. The wake of each blade seemed to shimmer and distort, and Nelevin swore that they started to glow as they span through the air.
'Fool,' the sorcerer said, raising his hand to stop the projectiles.Blue flames engulfed his palm again, but as the silver daggers touched the flames, and bright green spark lit the clearing. The sorcerer howled in pain.
'I'm no fool, conjurer. My knives are made with blessed metals - designed to ignore your devilment. Stings, doesn't it?'
The sorcerer panted, holding his bloodied hand to is chest. The knives were sticking out of his hand, forearm and shoulder. His face was contorted with the pain he felt.
'That pain you are feeling, that will be spreading through your body right now. Your blood will be on fire. It might look like a flesh wound, but the magiks surrounding those blades is a deadly poison. One that not even a filthy dark sorcerer like you can cure.' Rizdok raised his sword, smiled, and swung the blade through the sorcerer's neck.
'Is that it?' Nelevin asked.
'Yes, that's it. I thought they would put up more of a fight, bit of a shame really. Still, money's money, and this will pay richly back at the guild. There's more like it if you are interested - I think we make a pretty good team!'
Okay, that's your lot for this week! Remember to check back next week for episode 2!
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