Souls

Souls

Mist hung in the air over the shrine. The sun barely peeked over the Dark Veil, as if it were afraid to glance at this totem of evil. This shrine, caked in the blood of those who had fought to defend it eons ago, was hidden in the shadow of the mountain range, the Dark Veil. These mountains were home to the Sh’aleen, the Fallen Elves, and this shrine was once a temple to their god, The Bane. In the 7th age of the Reign of Lord Dagon, the men, dwarves and elves descended on this area to purge the Bane from the land for ever. They won the battle, but did not eliminate the Banes soul. It bound itself to the Sh’aleen general. His children had fragments of its soul in their bloodline, and now Kiol, the general’s 13th son, set out from the mountain.
“Hurry up! If you lag any further behind I’ll cut your fetcher feet off!” Kiol yelled at his lieutenant, who was near the middle of the mountain. They were heading down to the shrine to recover the Star of Darzhon, an ancient artifact that was said to be able to summon the Bane from the shadows. Wolves howled, and bodiless voices echoed across the clearing. Red eyes peered out, unblinking, from the caves and holes of the path down the mountain. Kiol was edgy, as the rumors of Werewolves seemed to be true. He turned again to scream at his men, but tripped and rolled down the path. The cliff shook, rumbled and unleashed a torrent of boulders upon his warriors, killing many instantly, the rest injured, upon which the wolves desended upon and tore them to shreds. Kiol, meanwhile, was knocked unconscious.
When Kiol came to, the moon was full. His first thought was, ‘Oh, Shit!’ The Balverines would be out about this time, and… Yeah, he had lost his sword. And with his regiment dead, he was most likely going to die. He pulled himself up, and dusted himself off. Pain shot up his leg. There was a shard of stone impaling his foot. He looked around for a stick, or something similar. There was none. He sighed and tensed himself. He ripped the shard out of his foot and screamed then tumbled over again. Even with his intense training, the pain was still nigh-on unbearable. He began to crawl down the path, dragging his foot down behind him. As he passed the caves, the eyes stared intensely at him and he heard muffled growls. He had to get down the mountain, and fast, or else he would be Balverine dinner.
A rock fell down the path and rolled past him. Kiol flipped over to see a man-sized wolf upright. It dove towards him, claws extended. Something took over Kiol, his teeth extended into razor sharp points, his fingernails extended into claws and his eyes turned to red slits. His hand punched through the wolves ribcage and up through its back. His cocked his head slightly to the left, grinned manically, and bit the side of the beasts face off. He pulled himself up, and then threw the beast’s carcass off the side of the mountain. As soon as the body left his hand, his body returned to normal. He looked at his hands, covered in blood and cut with shards of bone. He shook and threw up. Whenever he was threatened and he had no way to defend himself, this always happened. Something took over his mind. He began to crawl back down the path.
By the time he had reached the bottom of the mountain, it was dawn. He could see the shrine in the distance. He could also see the dust.

There was a dust storm in behind the shrine, and it was approaching it at a steady pace. It could be anything, a herd of cattle, an army or even a wyvern. If it was a wyvern, the 9 help him. He found a small clearing where he went to sleep.
The first thing he saw when he woke was an arrow. “Don’t move, Sh’aleen.” It was the rangers. “Why are you here?”
“I am here… because my King sent…me to explore this area. Nothing more.” Kiol said, each fragment of the sentence shooting pain through-out his body. The ranger loosed his grip on the bowstring, and looked at Kiol’s foot.
“That’s cut up pretty bad, sirrah.” He said, and took an herb and a sheet of moss from his pack. “It’s Senroot. It should help with the pain.” He applied the plant to Kiol’s wound and covered it with the mossy bandage.

The rangers of the Unia swamp were a neutral group, comprised of those who had been exiled from their homelands. They often helped out travelers, injured or lost in the dense murky wood. Their current leader, during this books period, was Eliphas the Inheritor, so called because his father handed the leadership down to him, which was very unusual. The other rangers of Farnoth and the Iron Hills were not as kind to the Fallen Elves as these.

The rangers had taken him to their camp. They gave him his personal tent and did not disturb him until he was healed. Then they say him on his way, down to the edge of the swamp.

Once out of the swamp and into the great Keois expanse, a huge desert coving most of the world, he had to trek in a semi circle to pass the jutting edge of the mountain range. He had been walking for an hour when he saw it, a ripple tossing out sand and darting towards him. He unsheathed the sword he had received from the rangers, and leapt to the side. He did this in time to see the beast leap out of the sand to attack where he had just been. It was a sand shark, a strange desert-dwelling shark with a long pointed horn, like a narwhale, jutting from its snout. The ripple veered round and angled for him. He prepared himself again, time seemed to slow. As the shark jumped from the sand, he dashed forward, sword towards the creature, in an effort to cut it in half. The shark’s horn dug in to his face, and made a large gash in his cheek. Kiol only succeeded in making a minor slash on the shark’s side. He flipped round to see the shark making another run at him. He stabbed the sword into the dirt and stood behind it. The shark kept on bearing at him. It once again leaped out of the sand… and neatly sliced itself into 2 chunks of twitching meat. Kiol picked these up and slipped them into his pack, in case he needed emergency supplies later. He then began walking again.

He came across an old battlefield. From the looks of the ancient armor, it was probably from the Elven Civil War. He took a bow and a quiver of old Silverthorn arrows from one of the skeletons, and a battleaxe and shield from another. He carried on walking again, after making the sign of Death for the fallen.

He had come finally to the edge of the forest of Darkwood. In the midst of this forest was the Shrine of Bane. Once again, bodiless voices whispered to him, some threatening him, some speaking comforting words to him, some trying to seduce him, and some trying to lure him. If he followed any of these voices, he would surely die. He made the sign of Teras, and continued into the dark forest.

Many of the explorers had perished in this godforsaken patch of land, many seeming struck down by and invisible force, pressed flat into the ground, eyeballs popping out.
This was all the work of the Bane, as when the general was injured here and unconciusly waiting for rescue, the Bane stayed alive by feeding of the blood of some of the explorers. But, he could only drink blood that was willingly given, and enslaved many of the Wights (the voices) to lure victims to him. Those who refused to give him blood were ‘pressed’.
He chopped his way through the thick undergrowth of the woods, towards the shrine. Will O’ the Wisp’s tried to lure him towards death, as did the Wights. The Balverines lay in wait, red eyes glaring out from the darker parts of the wood. He finally reached the shrine, began to laugh, then stopped. Glaring at him, full front, was a fully grown Wyvern. The Star dangled from one of his canines. It snorted, then let loose a breath of fire. It took out half of the wood surrounding the shrine, and enveloped Kiol.
The flames died down, and all that was left in Kiol’s place was a small pile of ash, and a rare chunk of fish meat. The wyvern roared and stepped forward to eat the meat. As he pulled off chunks from the meat, Kiol popped up from the bush. He was once again like he was on the mountain when the Balverine attacked, extended teeth and claws and slit eyes. He crawled towards the wyvern and like a shot started clawing his way up its face, digging his claws in deep. The wyvern let out an ear-piercing scream and started bucking in an effort to throw Kiol off. Kiol reached its eye, smiled, and started clawing at it. It screamed and let out balls of fire, burning down many of the trees around it. I won’t tell you what Kiol is doing, but needless to say it wasn’t pretty, and munching noises were loud and clear. Kiol kicked against the Wyvern’s skull, and launched off. The wyvern’s eye socket was empty, and flesh was hanging off in strips and blood was dripping from Kiol’s jaw. He smacked his lips and wiped his mouth. The Wyvern heard this and turned round. It roared and charged head-down at Kiol. He stood there as the wyvern bore down on him. The wyvern bit a chunk out of the ground and Kiol stood there no more.

The wyvern settled down to sleep and heal its wounds. The eye was beyond healing of course, but its minor wounds would heal. Slowly, the wyvern’s jaws pried open and Kiol rolled out. He opened his hand and looked down at it. In his palm was a small ebony amulet in the shape of a star. He had it! He got The Star. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and snuck away.
Continued in Bane’s Vengeance…