What Has Gone Before… #4
Seeing no other path, Ruhlin ventured alone into the Vikra-sah, bearing his maul as protection.
At first he found only rot and damp beneath the canopy of overlapping roots, but soon realised he was not alone.
Something vile dwelt in that place, something that could twist the roots into a malformed creature of lethal strength and speed.
Despite being swiftly ensnared in its many limbs, Ruhlin’s monster failed to wake.
The spirit of the hollow spoke to Ruhlin then, or rather it spoke to the monster that shared his body, for this ancient soul had recognised a kindred being.
“Not whole,” the creature said. “Just a remnant…” The creature went on to describe how in ages past it had been lured to this hollow, “A place where the veil is thin.” It also alluded to a dire design by the Vortigurn: “For soon it all ends… The ruler of this land works dark wonders to entice us.”
Before he could learn more, the creature forced a root into Ruhlin’s mouth.
He would surely have died in that dread place if not for the bear.
Charging into the hollow, the beast threw itself at the creature, tearing and rending at its shifting form until borne down into fetid waters, pierced by many spines, and slain.
The bear’s fate finally awoke the monster, Ruhlin swelling into a far more powerful form than before.
The maul he wielded glowed bright with arcane fire as he vanquished the foul creature, birthing a fire in the hollow that consumed it unto the last cinder.
Emerging from the ashes of the Vikra-sah, Ruhlin found himself acclaimed by the Morvek elders, for none now dare question that the Telchak had risen to lead them to victory over the Nihlvarians.
Far to the south, Felnir was also keen to take on the mantle of destiny, though by more calculated means.
Having observed the Ahrkun Krayl tribute party under command of the man known as the Factor, Felnir had concluded that it was too strong for his menda to face alone.
A man of pragmatic, if sometime ruthless inclinations, he decided to allow the cultists to continue on their way unmolested.
Forsaking his newly acquired forest holdfast, Felnir allowed the Factor’s party to discover the slaughter done to their fellow cultists.
His decision caused some measure of discord in his menda, for had they not sworn themselves to Felnir Skyrnrak in order to destroy the Ahrkun?
Although he placated his followers’ doubts, the need to do so frustrated Felnir.
As bearer of the Sword of the Altvar, it struck him that securing the loyalty of his subjects should be an easier matter.
Consulting Wohtin, he demanded the ancient tell what he knew of the sword, so that Felnir might employ its power.
“If the power that resides in that blade can be unlocked, it must recognise the wielder as one worthy of its blessing,” Wohtin told him.
“Ask me again when the Sindra lies dead.”
Felnir’s menda then followed the cultist tribute party into the River Belt, a string of villages dotting the banks of a river known as the Hol Ledda.
The terrible retribution visited upon the villagers by the Ahrkun left Felnir with many new recruits for his menda, but also stirred his regret.
He had underestimated the cruelty of his enemy and now risked being seen as weak in the eyes of his would-be subjects.
Casting aside all caution, Felnir rode alone to where the cultists had encamped amid a circle of standing stones, wreaking bloody havoc until joined by his menda.
Once again, no quarter was given and dire was the fate of any Ahrkun who fell into the villagers’ hands.
The following morning, Felnir’s examination of the standing stones revealed a strange spiral symbol etched into the rock that differed from any rune or sigil he knew.
Before he could investigate further, he was obliged to intervene in order to preserve the life of a woman named Dyssha, a skilled drover and captive of the Ahrkun who faced the bloodlust of the River Belt villagers.
Although not a believer in the Ahrkun’s creed, Dyssha had been kept servile by her son’s imprisonment in the Hahl-Trova, the mighty stronghold where the Sindra held court.
From Dyssha, Felnir learned the full strength of the Sindra’s forces and his likely response to Felnir’s assault upon his domain: “When what you did here becomes known throughout middle-Vorunvahl, the Sindra will send all the strength he can muster to crush you.” In sore need of allies, Felnir drew on the villagers’ knowledge, which guided him to the Vorl Arna, the Moon Lake, where dwelt the Vorl Tuhrk, a much feared and partially outcast folk with a long-standing grudge against the Ahrkun.
Travelling to the Vorl Arna, Felnir made alliance with the Gyrwald of the Vorl Tuhrk, a veteran warrior of gruff manners named Baldyr Klarresk.
Felnir learned from Baldyr that the Vorl Tuhrk were descendants of those spared the Altvar’s life-extending blessing when Wohtin conjured forth the gifts of the gods.
Over the course of many years they had lived on the fringes of Vorunvahl, content to see to their own affairs until the Ahrkun came to disturb the peace.
Baldyr had been fighting the cultists since boyhood and was keen to see the feud settled for once and all.
He agreed to join forces with Felnir, and provision his warriors for the campaign to come.
In return, he demanded but one thing: “The Sindra’s head.
When this is done, I want it. You can kill the fucker if yer like. But the head is mine.”
Agreeing to Baldyr’s terms, Felnir journeyed to the eastern banks of the Vorl Arna where Beyorn was busy gathering recruits from the villages oppressed by the Ahrkun.
Over the course of succeeding weeks, Felnir’s menda grew, though his attempts to forge them into a host capable of fighting a battle were often frustrating.
By now, he conducted himself as a king in all matters.
Choosing an aged and part-ruined fortress as his stronghold, he held court and heard petitions, although the latter chore was mostly left in Sygna’s hands.
Upon touring his new home, Felnir noticed another spiral symbol etched into the foundations and realised this was a far older structure than he at first thought.
With the arrival of the Vorl Tuhrk, Felnir began to plan his assault on the Hahl-Trova, only to be told by his scouts that the Sindra had already marched forth.
However, instead of coming against Felnir, the cultists had invaded a region known as the Craggens where the people had risen in revolt against the Ahrkun.
With his miscalculation in the River Belt fresh in his mind, Felnir knew he couldn’t allow the cultists to rampage uncontested.
And so he marched his under-trained menda, together with Baldyr’s warriors, into the Craggens to bring the Sindra to battle and claim his head.
Yet, while Felnir aspired to kingship, his sister had already earned a crown.
After her victory at Vorun Hardta, she had reluctantly accepted the demands of the people of the Outer and Inner Isles and taken on the mantle of queen.
Though it pained her, this meant forsaking command of her beloved Great Wolf and placing the warship in the care of Ragnalt, her most senior apprentice who she now elevated to the rank of Vellihr of Justice.
She also appointed Lynnea as Tielwald in recognition of her evident facility for rooting out spies.
Veilwald Synghild she named Guardian of the Queen’s Treasury.
Once again venturing into dreams to commune with her great-grandfather, Thera learned that Lore would soon bring all her strength against Olversahl in an effort to recover not only the stolen Spear of the Altvar, but also Elvine.
“Lore is in love with the scholar,” Gruinskard told her.
“And there is no rage more certain to unreason a mind than that of love betrayed.” Marshalling all her strength, Thera sailed for Olversahl where Elvine now found herself also elevated to unwanted heights.
Having arrived safely at the city of her birth, Elvine’s status as the bearer of the Spear of the Altvar, soon saw her acclaimed as the Spear Maiden.
While Gruinskard was quick to assume control over the governance of the port, it was clear that its inhabitants now looked to Elvine for inspiration.
Fired by her oratory and guided by the Tielwald’s expert hand in matters of war, the people of Olversahl set about constructing a wall atop the city’s long wharf.
As they laboured, Elvine asked her brother to tutor her in use of weapons.
“So that it appears the Spear Maiden of Olversahl actually knows how to wield the Altvar’s divine instrument. ”
Despite Colvyn’s misgivings, he set about teaching her as best he could.
However, it soon became clear that imparting a lifetime’s knowledge in the space of a few days was impossible.
Hoping to dissuade Elvine from further lessons, Colvyn subjected his sister to a fierce attack only for the spirit in the spear to impart another gift to its wielder.
Where before it had revealed the true feelings of others, now it revealed their intent amid the whirl of combat.
Time seemed to slow, and the impending blows of her opponent became starkly clear, enabling both evasion and counterstroke.
Thanks to the spear, Elvine Jurest was no longer simply a scholar. She was now also a warrior.