Chapter 11
On the Move
After debating her options, Daffonil decided she must return to the sacred grove to commune with the forces of nature and warn her fellow guardians plus the rest of the Order of the Vine about the danger this strange sect posed. Then and only then could she attempt to warn her new friends about that same danger somehow. She would have raced to them first, but she had no idea the scope of the threat presented by these strange, robed men. The forest was her sworn cause, her bounty to protect. Guarding the grove and heart stone was her first duty. She pledged oaths. The young elf dedicated her life to this cause. She would not shirk her responsibilities no matter how badly she wanted to see Vallen and the others again. She knew to leave the forest at this point would be completely irresponsible.
“Still… I must warn my friends. They are in danger,” she mumbled her thoughts aloud. Daffonil felt torn.
How many more of these gray robed groups wandered the countryside? They spoke of controlling the area. What did that mean exactly? Why did she not know of them? Never had Elder Faerin mentioned such intruders. She could not neglect her duties to the forest or her promise to Starmane. That awful beast was still out there murdering everything in its path. Someone had to stop it before this sect got their hands on it again. She had no idea what they had in mind for the beast, but apparently, they had unleashed it on her forest by accident. Whether it was on purpose or not mattered little. Why would anyone deal with such a creature to begin with? Where did such a beast even come from? The slender elf could not shake the images conjured by her imagination. Were they locked away somewhere raising these beasts by the dozens or using some form of foul magics to warp poor animals into that abomination? That thought terrified her. She could only wonder what a pair of these things working together could do, the destruction they would unleash.
Before the clear image faded from her mind, Daffonil claimed a fallen leaf from the forest floor. The two bands of the robed men had just parted ways carelessly leaving their camp ablaze. They burned a strange herbal mixture that produced a bluish smoke and prayed over that smoke for a solid hour. It smelled strange to her sensitive nose. They used magic in that mixture, foul magic. She cleared their site of dangers that might cause a forest fire and then summoned a mound of snow to cool the campfire. They seemed as careless about their fires as they were about this beast. Both were bad omens for The Forest of Shade and The Grape Grove. She needed to make the most of this time. She placed the leaf in her palm then laid her other palm atop it. She began pressing both of her hands together against the leaf holding them over the dying embers of the fire.
Daffonil raised her head, closed her eyes and prayed to the forces of nature. “I call upon the aid of the sisters of seasons and the mother of plants. Let heat of this fire trace what the mind reveals.” A subtle flash of light sparked from between her hands and warmth spread through both palms as a gentle breeze tossed her hair back from her face. A single ember from the fire flashed bright and hot from the edge of the snow mound. Wisps of smoke trailed up from the ember to encircle her clasped hands. She could feel life in the air and the earth feeding her prayer.
Daffonil whispered thanks to the world around her. When her palms parted, the leaf held the image of the robed men’s amulet etched into its surface. She then whispered another simple prayer to preserve the leaf, keeping it from drying out and growing brittle. She admired her work and showed it to Peaches.
“What do you think, Peaches?” The skunk huffed a disinterested response. She was tired after sleeping in a tree, and hungry. Daffonil laughed. Her joyful sound carried on the breeze like bells. “We will find breakfast.” She gazed upon the leaf again and smiled. “I can present this to the elder. Maybe he knows what it represents or who these people might be?”
Realizing she could afford to waste no more time, the elven druid sprinted through the trees like a rabbit, bound for The Grape Grove. Daffonil’s focus often shifted quickly. Peaches scurried along on her trail complaining the entire way. Why were they running? What became of breakfast?
* * * * * * * * * *
Brother Skrey led his band of believers in a northeasterly direction at the behest of his pendulum. As a ranking priest of the faith, he possessed the power of prayer and a special gift, a Pendulum of Guidance. In his former life, he studied the ways of the mage. Several among the faith held similar backgrounds. To that end, he possessed some minor knowledge of the arcane. What he did not possess was knowledge of the wilds. The man spent the last several years since his conversion rising to his position from an acolyte to priest of the hidden church. He worked indoors first in Keil-Van and then in Villinsk. His primary trade was beast lore and coercion not tracking. Animal husbandry filled his background. Rituals and ceremonies fitted him better than traipsing through the wilds. His desire for change and evolution of the world at large brought him into the folds of the religion. Brother Skrey had seen terrible things and knew that men upon EL held wicked souls and needed to change. His newest task of locating the escaped beast came when his predecessor failed and was sacrificed for said failure. The sleeping God did not tolerate failure and neither did the master. Luckily for Skrey, his assigned band of believers were former outdoorsmen of a sort. They were farmers and herders that chose the faith over death, just as he had once. Now fanatically dedicated to the faith, they were his loyal underlings. Seeing the results of the forced conversion technique developed by Master Vrauth only made his faith stronger. What the master could accomplish with his alchemical precision was astonishing. Already the blue mists were stronger than ever before. His modifications to the plants were impressive. These men were absolutely committed. They were faithful through and through. With such a growing and thriving force, Jadahal was surely within their reach.
His pendulum began to swing wide and his face split into a smile beneath his heavy hood. That meant he was close to the trail of his target. “Blessed be the guidance,” he whispered. “Blessed be Thruum!” In unison his band of followers repeated the chant as if their minds were linked somehow. “Blessed be Thruum!” They had discovered the beast’s trail once again. Their mission lay clear before them.
* * * * * * * * * *
Muhal parted ways with Skrey renewed and excited about the prospects of the sect for the near future. As a founding member of the new faith of the forgotten God, he had dedicated most of his adult life to the pursuit of Jadahal and Thruum’s revival. He believed in the prophecies handed down by their holy prophet and the scriptures of lore. Things appeared to be shifting in their favor quickly. He was a field agent at his core. His place remained on the front lines, on the road, collecting resources and spreading the word through action. Also a trained priest, Hunter Muhal raised his Pendulum of Guidance and watched it swing after a simple prayer, directing him towards his prey. He was happy to hear from a fellow priest of the church, someone that lived and breathed within the heart of the sect, the heart of the faith. Muhal was unsure of the choice to move their working headquarters for expansion to this country despite the sages’ insistence. He feared the sheer number of mages grown in this place might be a problem. It turned out the overabundance of mages and magic in use helped to mask their activities. In fact, the tactic to come here proved quite ingenious. The constant use of magic in every large city and every school of magic spread across Villinsk only helped to shield their rituals and experiments from notice. In a lesser location their efforts might draw attention from the great amounts of magical energy expended, but not here in this land of plenty, this land of enchantments. The sight they chose for the temple even sat near a nexus of energy in the wildlands further masking it from detection. Skrey seemed hopeful for the future. He appreciated that hope in another. It was good to see a kindred soul at work spreading the holy virtues of the faith.
Muhal expected it to come, one day. He expected the rebirth of Thruum and the rise of his new land as prophesized, but he had recently felt that day nearing rapidly. He felt blessed to know that his feelings were true, a gift from the forgotten God. Muhal needed no added incentive. He enjoyed his tasks, embracing them with extreme fervor. Once he had trained to be a desert land tracker, a huntsman of the Rolling Sands. That was as a boy, before his conversion to the faith. The voice of his God whispering into his ear changed his life and path forever. Now he was a hunter of a different sort and a master slaver. The hunt of man was the biggest thrill of all. They were the true challenge to his skills. Intelligent prey, especially when it knew it was being hunted, tested his ability. Only by testing and pushing one’s skills can one grow. He found an incredible sense of satisfaction in that path. Muhal gained the respect of his superiors and his peers through his skill and expertise. He was the elite huntsman of the faith. There were a handful of others that nipped at his heels, but he was considered the best of them. Hunter Muhal held a reputation that proceeded him. His newest target would not elude him for much longer. They never did, gifts or no gifts. Though this one had given him a good chase which he appreciated.
When his pendulum began to swing faster, wider, he knew his trail was warming. “Blessed be the guidance,” he whispered aloud.
His entire band of converts repeated the prayer in unison. “Blessed be the guidance.”
“Blessed be Thruum,” he continued.
“Blessed be Thruum,” they repeated together.
* * * * * * * * * *
Farrah woke from her sleep less rested than she would have liked. Good thing she had energy to spare. Strange dreams invaded her rest, images of chains and symbols scratched into stone, beakers and vials of bubbling liquids. She heard chanting and saw a symbol that she did not recognize. The barbed triangular symbol held a circle and runes within. Her grandmother came to those dreams with a warning she could not quite hear, not quite remember. It seemed as if someone were standing behind her grandmother, thrusting the old woman forward to speak with her. The word ‘destiny’echoed in her mind. Her dreams were only part of her troubles. She also struggled with the events from the barn she witnessed the night before. The discussion between Vallen and Zane weighed heavily upon her mind. Vallen was about to lead them across the lands to Sabline. Part of her struggled with keeping this quiet while another part rationalized it away with the alcohol. She settled on staying close and watching. After all, it was but two days away. What more could possibly happen in so short a span?
Vallen was up with the rise of dawn. He had a horse ready to go for each of them and sat astride Shield when they exited the mansion after Gretta’s hearty breakfast. He chose the largest stallion in the barn for Bronwick, a slight but speedy racehorse for Reena and Stench to share, a sleek and experienced mare for Tamaran, and a beautiful palomino for Farrah. Each was set with tack and bedding, saddle and bridle, compliments of Deeban. Vallen even made it a point to load each horse with travel rations and water for the journey. He felt good about his efforts. This was the biggest undertaking he had arranged to date, and he wanted it to be perfect. His new friends exited the mansion to marvel at his arrangements. Each fine horse stood with travel tack and decorated in the emblem of the blue rose with a sword through it.
“We are truly in your debt, Lord Vallen. How can we ever repay your hospitality?” Tamaran rubbed his mare’s nose and admired her sleek coat. “She is a beauty. They all are!”
“I like my horse, too. He’s strong like me!” Bronwick grunted as he patted the animal’s thick neck. It whinnied.
Reena moved to examine her horse. She had never ridden on a horse before. Her nerves were beginning to show. As she approached the large animal, she felt a tug on her leg. She gently kicked Stench away. “Stop tugging at me you little turd! I need to focus.” She took a breath to steady her nerves and calm her shaking hands.
The gremlin grumbled and raised his arms to her signaling he wanted to be picked up. “Me go in pack?”
Reena giggled. “Not anymore. I only lugged your heavy butt around to hide you, but you aren’t hiding now. You must learn to walk on your own, use those scrawny legs for what they were meant to do.”
Stench fell to his knees and squealed. He then clutched his chest and fell over on his side where he began to thrash about, kicking and screaming as if afflicted.
“Is he hurt?” Farrah was at Reena’s side with a look of worry. She had her healer’s supplies ready.
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Reena laughed and then used her foot to nudge the gremlin. “Nope. He’s pouting. He wants me to carry him. I spoiled the little turd.” She glared at Stench and balled her fist. “Don’t make me give you something to cry about you baby! You’re embarrassing me. Get up!”
Stench took one look into her scowl and jumped to his feet with a grin. The gremlin giggled. He moved to stand next to the horse. The animal seemed skeptical. Stench pointed to the saddle and raised his arms again. “Up?” This time Reena complied. She lifted him to the saddle where he wrapped his legs around the pommel. “When we go?”
Reena stood shifting her weight from foot to foot as she watched everyone else mount their horses. Vallen offered Farrah a boost, but otherwise they each did everything themselves.
“Would you like a hand?” Vallen asked the fidgeting girl. He stepped up and interlaced his fingers offering a boost to the saddle as he did with Farrah.
“She no ride… EVER!” Stench giggled. Reena immediately shot him a glare of death, but the damage was done. It was true.
“You’ve never ridden a horse before?” Vallen asked her quietly so the others would not hear. The girl shook her head in the negative. It was obvious she was embarrassed. “Well, how about I tether your mare to Shield. I’ll guide you along. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in no time. She may be a racehorse, but Shimmer prefers to walk at a slow pace, so I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.” He smiled warmly with a wink.
Reena felt silly but she accepted the boost and the tether. So what if the others laughed at her? They could go suck a potato. With everyone mounted and ready to go, Vallen started into a trot. He gazed upon his home and the estate, making sure he was leaving everything in order for his father’s return, just in case his father was here before he got back. The mansion and grounds were so beautiful, just like his late mother. He always thought of them as one and the same. Vallen never tired of gazing upon it all. He committed the image to his memory. He liked to keep a fresh picture in his mind whenever he left the estate. It served as his inspiration. The entire mansion staff was present to see them off.
Penny smiled and waved at them as she pushed her spectacles into place on her pointy nose. A part of her wished she could join the excursion. She liked these people and a cross-country ride sounded so refreshing and tranquil. She knew they were full of interesting stories she’d like to hear. She also knew Schell would not release her for an entire four-day span from her studies. Her elderly master proved to be the epitome of punctiliousness. Every tedious lesson remained important. Every menial task held a value only the old woman could understand. Half of those lessons ended abruptly when the woman lost track of her sentences. If Penny were to leave now it would be quite extemporaneous.
Gretta asked the question they were all thinking. She spoke tentatively and it was difficult to tell the answer she hoped to get. “Is Zane joining you, my lord?” The entire staff plus Farrah all hung on the edge of their seats awaiting the young lord’s response to that question.
Vallen shrugged. “I have little control over what that rapscallion chooses to do or not do with his days.” He replied honestly with a shrug. He scanned the area as if searching. “I haven’t seen him this morning to ask him, either. If you come across him, let him know I’ll expect to be back in four days, maybe five at the most. He’s always welcome to join us.” Gretta nodded and waved her goodbyes. Farrah sat back to process that answer and noticed a similar look on Gretta’s face. Was the woman glad or upset to hear that answer?
* * * * * * * * * *
When Daffonil reached the sacred Grape Grove, she found it more crowded than ever before. That surprised her. Not only were there several elf druids gathered but also fairies, the dryad of the wood and her satyr lover, a nixie, an assortment of animals and even an odd old man that appeared to be human. He kept busy pacing beneath the altar. How did a human get here of all places? With a hint of shock and a lot of surprise, the young elf strode into the clearing. The old human was the one speaking and strangely, everyone was listening to him, including the other guardians. Humans were not normally allowed to enter the sacred grove. What was afoot here?
“I would not have come here if I did not feel it important,” the old human replied to something one of the guardians must have said. Daffonil was pleasantly surprised to see the elves addressing this man as an equal or even better, the wise elder he appeared to be. Perhaps her new friends would not be so strange to them.
Upon spotting Daffonil, the eldest guardian, Faerin, called to her. The girl set peaches down and waded through the crowd to reach him. The slender elven man was centuries her elder but looked like an older brother. Slightly taller than her, his long ash-brown hair set tied in a braid down his back. He wore similar clothes to Daffonil’s, fashioned of plants and had skin a slight shade lighter than her deep cinnamon tone. The man was also a wood elf.
“This is Daffonil. She is the youngest member of the guardians. She had direct interaction with the travelers that survived their encounter with this beast.” Faerin then introduced Daffonil to the strange old human. “Daffonil, come and meet Tribunesh.”
The girl approached in her traditional fashion with a big smile and bright-eyed enthusiasm. Something about the silver-haired man frightened her. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Tribunesh. It is not often that my people welcome a human among their ranks, especially into the sacred grove. Actually, that never happens.” Both Faerin and Tribunesh broke into laughter. Many of those gathered giggled as well. The young elf eyed them all suspiciously. What was so funny about that?
“Forgive me, Daffonil. They laugh because I am not human. This is but a guise I wear when wandering the world of men. I fear my true form tends to demand too much space and cause too much fear.” The old man winked at her. She took notice that his long silver hair was almost too shiny. His eyes were a silver gray as well with wisdom far beyond even his old age. He was something special.
Faerin felt the need to explain. “Tribunesh is a dragon, a silver dragon to be exact. He has been a friend of the grove and her guardians for centuries.” The dragon in human guise dipped into a proper bow. The elderly man moved with the grace of youth. “Tribunesh seeks your council, Daffonil.”
“My council? A dragon seeks me?” the young woman stammered in shock and disbelief. Her mind raced to process this information.
“Have no fear, my dear girl. I come as an ally. I bring news from the world outside of the forest and I also have questions about your recent encounter.” The man smiled at her knowingly. She could feel a presence that was far more than his appearance. “You encountered the beast that rampages through the forest, correct? And you battled it alongside a band of others, outsiders to the forest?” Daffonil nodded to both. “How pray tell did you and these others manage to drive it off? Faerin tells me that several of these humans and one of orc blood survived the battle. Is that correct?”
Daffonil’s head dipped and her emerald, almond-shaped eyes shifted from joy to sadness. “Some of them survived. Others were not so fortunate. There was also a gremlin among the survivors. But we did battle the beast. It is to be feared for certain. It holds power I have not seen in these parts before. I could not identify it. It bested and killed Starmane.” She grew mournful again.
Tribunesh paused, his gaze locked on the girl for a long moment of silence. “I had not heard of Starmane. This saddens me greatly. We were longtime allies and very close. I wondered about his absence today,” Tribunesh sighed heavily. A puff of frosty mist escaped his mouth. He seemed more angry than sad. The dragon in human guise paused to collect himself. That news had a definite effect on him. “Tell me, how did you manage to drive it away, to hurt it? Your brethren tell me it resisted most attempts to injure it.”
Daffonil pulled the unicorn’s horn from her belt and held it aloft for the dragon to see. “A gift from Starmane on his deathbed. It tears the beast’s skin easily.”
Tribunesh took the horn from her hand and examined it closely, reverently. He kissed the horn gently with his eyes squeezed shut then handed it back to the young elf.
Unsure what to make of the display, Daffonil continued. “The one you mentioned earlier, the one with orc blood, Bronwick. He is a powerful warrior. He flew into a rage and cut the beast with his massive blade numerous times. It was our combined efforts plus those of the others to distract the beast that led to our success at driving it off. That and an incredible amount of luck. Praise be to the spirits of the land, to Mother EL and to The Green for their assistance.”
Tribunesh listened carefully to her words. “And where are these adventurers now?”
“They have left the forest. I helped escort them to safety in the lands to the south, Vallen’s birth lands.” She realized the dragon had no idea who Vallen was. “He was one of the humans, a skilled woodsman and tracker. He escorted the majority of the others to his home. He is a noble among them. A pair did return to the human town of Dunabar, as well.” The dragon seemed unhappy to hear this. “I bring additional news, though. I discovered two bands of gray robed humans traveling in the forest. They spoke of a forgotten God, experiments that possibly created this beast, and of slaving. I fear they seek one of the other humans, a young desert land man named Tamaran. One of the bands is searching for him now using magic I do not recognize. The other group seeks to capture the beast and return with it for further study. They spoke as if they admire this thing, as if they will use it, as if they want more of them.” The young elf grew animated as she spoke. Her words flowed more rapidly, too. When she finished speaking, she was practically shouting and bouncing in place.
Faerin seemed troubled by her news as did the dragon. The elder guardian spoke heatedly. “We cannot allow them to capture this beast. There can be no more of them. It has caused terrible destruction to our forest. It has killed so many senselessly. It appears to kill for entertainment and holds a dark cunning.”
“Agreed,” Tribunesh growled. His voice was no longer the voice of a man. The deep baritone reverberated through the grove. “They must be stopped. Your news coincides with the news I came to deliver. There is a cult of men prowling the lands beyond your borders. My sources suggest they arrived here from distant lands to the east. Several small settlements of humans and a few others have already suffered their wrath. I fear they might take interest in your people should they discover you here. They are slavers and worse. Darkness shrouds them, enough darkness to wake me from my rest. It seems they have grown here in secret for some time, hidden in the shadows, plotting. They must not continue.”
Daffonil fished around in her satchel and recovered the leaf she burned their symbol into. “This is the symbol they carry. Each of them wore this on an amulet and one man wore it as a permanent mark on his head. I suspected religion though it is unfamiliar to me.” She lifted the leaf for all to see. “If you spot this symbol, you are in danger. They boast of slaving and of something or someone they refer to as Jadahal?”
Tribunesh took the leaf in hand and examined it closely. He scowled. “I have seen this symbol before, but not in centuries. I fear this is not a good omen. I must go and research this. I must attempt to divine the truth behind their purpose. Why has this symbol returned to the realms of men? I thought it erased from time.” The silver dragon in the shape of a man seemed to gaze off into the ethers. His next statement escaped as barely a whisper. “This could change everything.”
“Please, tell me what it means, mighty Tribunesh. Is this the symbol of their hidden God? They spoke of this forgotten God more than once but many of their words were foreign to my ears. They also used another language at times.” Daffonil was growing worried. She feared for the forest and its inhabitants. She feared for her new friends as well.
“This is the symbol of a dead God. An evil God that wrought much destruction against the natural world. A God that was cast down by his brethren when he overstepped his domain and threatened all of EL. This is the symbol of Thruum the God of Aberrations, Father of Deviants, but he is no more. I have no idea what these men truly worship but it cannot be good if they bear this symbol.” The man grew serious, grim. He addressed the elder guardian and then Daffonil. “You my old friend must stop these men. Do not allow them to reclaim the beast. Kill it if you can or drive it off if not, but do not allow them the chance to study it. No good can come of that. Thruum was the progenitor of aberrant creations, giving birth to various and dangerous monsters in our world. Most of his children have vanished from EL, either hidden away in the dark places or gone altogether. That most assuredly is a blessing for us all. You my dear girl must go and warn your friends. If they seek one in particular it cannot be good. Whatever he has they cannot get. This cult is dangerous to us all, more dangerous than even I can discern as of yet. I feel it in my scales. Great evil stirs.”
Faerin tried to ask questions, but Tribunesh was already in motion. The man crawled atop the stump alter like a spry child and leapt into the air. His body shifted from an old man in gray rags to the most beautiful dragon Daffonil could imagine. His sleek silver wings, tail and shimmering silver scales all glistened in the light like thousands of tiny mirrors as the massive dragon soared skyward to disappear into the clouds. The animals scattered at the sight of the huge dragon. His presence was palpable, bigger than life, fearsome yet awe inspiring. It left them all feeling moved and shaken.
Faerin watched Tribunesh soar away into the clouds above. He sighed heavily then addressed those remaining. “We have been tasked with locating and stopping or driving away the beast. I know we are but a tiny pod. This will not be an easy task, but we are aware of it now. It is our duty. With that knowledge comes power. It no longer holds the element of surprise. We must work together. We also have the task of locating any gray robed bands of humans traveling through the forest. “If they bear this symbol,” the elder guardian raised a hand and a shimmering replica of the symbol Doffonil showed him formed in the air, “They are enemies to the wood. Slay them!”
The man seemed angrier than she had ever seen him before. To order these men killed on the spot was a harsh sentence and one rarely ordered by the guardians or druids in general. Only rabid animals or serious disease drew such reactions. The druidic order at its core was about life and balance.
Faerin addressed Daffonil next. “I will send word to the council in Larl seeking aid or further instruction from our order. But Tribunesh is a wise and great dragon. He has long guarded these lands from this forest all the way north into the highest mountain peaks. He tasked you with protecting your friend from these men. You will do that to the best of your ability. Do you understand me, child? That is your assignment, Guardian Daffonil. By The Green, you must take it to heart. Protect the one they seek.”
Daffonil looked at him in surprise. “But… they have left the forest. Last I knew they were bound for the human city of Sabline far beyond the borders of this wood.”
“You said you guided them south. To reach the human city called Sabline they must pass this way again. Their road stretches next to our borders for quite a span. Arthell will lead you to them.” The elf made a strange screeching sound and a hawk landed on his extended arm. He whispered something to the bird, and it launched back into the air. The hawk was Faerin’s companion, Arthell. “Go to them, find them, protect them. I have faith in you, Daffonil. The heart stone chose you for a reason. Greatness lies within your soul. I can feel it. You hold an important purpose. You are a guardian. These sect members are a threat to the natural order. As with all life, we are linked in a chain that connects us. By protecting your friends, you protect us all.” The elder wood elf remained calm but just barely. She could see more emotion in him than she had ever seen before. That frightened the young woman.
Daffonil located and collected Peaches before exiting the sacred grove. She could see Arthell circling overhead. He screeched. She needed to follow the hawk. He would lead her to the others, so she could watch over them as she had been tasked. With a deep sigh she mustered her courage and danced away into the woods, careful to keep an eye to the sky.