"Are you sure you're reading that right?" Algernon quipped. "After all," the black dragon reminded Rai'dley, "it has been 1,500 years. Maybe your ancient elven is not what it used to be."
"There's nothing wrong with my 'ancient' elven," Rai'dley spat, scattering a pile of glassware onto the floor with a swat of her hand and a crash, just to accentuate her point. "It isn't 'ancient' to me. It's my native tongue, don't forget, 1,500 years or not. I know it better than the twenty other languages that I've learned." She returned to the open, red covered book that sat on the dais in front of the large crystal orb. Age yellowed and cracked the pages. She pulled out an eyepiece from a nearby workbench, and studied her ancestral tome for the thousandth time. Again she read and re-read the passage, convincing herself that she was in fact reading it correctly.
"This is the real book, isn't it?" Algernon asked.
"Of course it's the right book!" Rai'dley steamed. "Do you think I'd waste all this time without making sure this was the right book?" She flipped carefully to the inside cover and made a gesture over the blank page. An image brightly burned where there was none before. She held the page up for the young black dragon to see her proof. "See? That's my sigil I put here those 1,500 years ago. This has to be the same book."
"Well, it doesn't seem to be working," he stated the obvious. "You might as well drink a potion."
He was right, of course. Rai'dley's face had become sunken in, and her eyes were reverting to their lich-like black circles on pale white skin. Her wrinkled hands shook visibly as she reached for one of the four remaining vials on the shelf. The rest of her laboratory in her secret castle hid away in Bellow's Mountain, was a study of chaos. Books and beakers sat, piled precariously high. Spell components, both loose and in containers of unlimited size and shape, were scattered about, left where they had been used last. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs accurately gauged the traffic in any particular corner of the cluttered lab. But in the one corner of the lab that protected these treasured vials of potion, nothing was left around to threaten their safety.
Rai'dley studied her shrinking supply of the precious liquid with disdain. She calculated how long it could possibly last her, but knew it wouldn't be enough. Do'Sol's life force had proven quite powerful, and had lasted her longer than she could even had hoped it would, but it wasn't enough.
Always cautious, Rai'dley looked around as she drew the vial close to her. She could not risk anything going wrong once she opened the sealed container. Seeing only Algernon uselessly staring at the open page of the book -- he couldn't actually read ancient elven, could he? She broke the seal on the vial.
A foul, acrid smelling black cloud wafted out of the container, and hovered in front of Rai'dley. She savored the free-roaming life force briefly, but could not resist inhaling the wonderful, vile drug. She breathed deeply, and sucked the formless, lost cloud through both nostrils. As her system absorbed the energy of the life force, her body and her will were renewed. The wrinkles faded before her eyes, and she could feel life flowing back into her enervated, rosy cheeks again. Ecstasy washed over her, as the power surged within. "Ah, that is so good!" she thought, tossing the expended, useless vial over her shoulder. "If only I could get this spell to work," she cursed. "I could have this feeling forever!"
Her renewed motivation restored, she turned her attention back to the open tome, slapping the nosy black dragon out of her way. After studying the book for the thousandth and first time, she inspected the clear crystal Orb again. Exquisite in its clarity and quality, the perfectly spherical Orb rested, nestled in its stand on a nearby bench that was also notably devoid of clutter. Its beauty and purity insulted her, but not as much as its power fascinated her.
She had been there, 1,500 years ago, when this very same Orb of the Righteous created terrible, twisted monsters out of the meek and mild creatures of the lands. While only a novice, she had seen Algernon's dragon ancestors crafted by the power of the Orb before her, and she knew its potential. She would feel that power coursing through her. She was so destined. So why wasn't it working?
The buzz of an alarm filled the room and shattered her concentration. "What is it now?" she demanded, making her way to the scrying device that screeched for her attention. The small mirror focused on an image of Raygan as she made a couple of arcane gestures over its clouded surface.
The dwarf fidgeted about, as if he had to make in his pants, waiting for Rai'dley to respond. She knew of the dwarf's nervousness with magic and how he hated to use the scrying device. She enjoyed delaying her acknowledgment, even though she knew it must be important to motivate the uneasy dwarf to contact her. "Why, Raygan, darling!" she called into the mirror. "How nice to see you!" Her sarcastic voice dripped molasses sweet.
"Uh, Rai'dley? Can you hear me?" Raygan stuttered.
"Yes, darling. I hear you," Rai'dley responded patiently. "What do you want, dear? What's going on back there at Castle Oswegonia?"
"I, uh, just learned some interesting news I thought you might like, er, need to hear."
"Oh, please, do tell," Rai'dley encouraged, not wanting to waste time with such matters. She found her eyes roaming back to the book, and Algernon who was again staring at the page. "Hm," she thought.
"Well, Mistress," Raygan continued with difficulty after clearing his throat. "I just received a message from Fenwick Cooper from the Thieves' Triangle. It seems that the army has passed through there."
"Oh, marvelous!" Rai'dley exaggerated her enthusiasm. "I'm glad to hear that!"
"But they weren't alone, Mistress." Raygan seemed to flinch as if bracing himself for an impact.
"Really? And who else was with them?" Rai'dley understood the value of trying to remain calm. Like Raygan, she too preferred no complications.
"Lady Corinna was seen tailing the army, Mistress, along with a ranger and Ace." Raygan again instinctively flinched as he said Ace's name, as if reliving the terrible wound that Ace had delivered to his face so long ago.
The news clearly upset Rai'dley, and she showed a sudden interest that Raygan found uncomfortable. "What was that trollop up to? What does she know?"
"Well," Raygan continued nervously, "Fenwick was duped by Ace into thinking they were under my orders, and so Fenwick wasn't able to get much out of them." He could sense Rai'dley's disappointment, and hoped the temperamental mage wouldn't take her wrath out on him. "They are definitely aware of and are following the army, however," he offered.
This was what Rai'dley definitely didn't want to hear. "Who knows what trouble they could cause?" she fumed. "I won't have those meddlers delaying that army!"
"But what can we do from here? This won't delay the invasion, will it?"
"As long as they aren't bothering the Thieves' Triangle, I don't see how they can interfere with that," she dismissed. "But I can't let them interfere with the army. Not now."
"What do you have in mind?" Raygan grinned an evil smile. Prospects of magical fingers reaching out across the lands and torturing his arch nemesis thrilled him to no end.
"Just leave that to me," Rai'dley said ruefully, contemplating several slow tortures for this Corinna herself. "Meanwhile, get your thieves ready. The city will be yours by tomorrow."
"Yes ma'am!" Raygan responded gleefully. This was the moment he had waited for all his life. He walked away from the scrying mirror, having even forgotten he was using the damnable thing.
Rai'dley made a gesture that severed the magical connection between the two looking glasses, and watched as the glass went fuzzy again. "Those cursed meddlers!" she screeched, scaring Algernon out of the tome again. "I'll rend that nasty bitch into tiny pieces!"
"But the Orb, Mistress," Algernon calmly reminded her. "Those potions won't last much longer, and you still need to get the Orb to work."
"Blasted!" she screamed her disappointment. "And I did so look forward to killing her myself. Now, I'll have to have someone else take care
of those trivial matters." She swung open the wooden door to the lab, and made a melodic call down the hallway, where it echoed and amplified with the stone.
Minutes later, a short, piggish looking creature answered the call. A porcine nose between his two, rounded cheeks marked his round face. Tusks protruded through his fat lips, and his speech even had snorts mixed in. A dirty rag of a shirt barely covered the round form of his potbelly. Armor plates covered his back and legs, and his dented and battered helmet was at least two sizes too small. His whole appearance was disheveled as if he'd dressed and answered the call out of his sleep. "Mistress Rai'dley!" he called from the lab's doorway. He dared not enter the room that had such smells to turn even his stomach. "How may the clan of Bloody Eyes serve you?"
Rai'dley turned to face the despicable soldier from across the room. She had smelled him coming clear down the hall, and noticed that Algernon had moved as far away from the offensive creature as possible. "Snark, dear orc," she greeted him with the same charismatic smile she used on King Lonnequist. "How many orcs do you have in your clan again?"
"Five fives times two," he boasted, never able to count higher than five. He looked at his stubby left hand and recounted his five fingers to make sure. "Yup! Five fives times two!"
After a second of calculating, and guessing that the porcine man meant at least fifty orcs, she once again donned her falsely sweet demeanor. "I have a mission for you and the Bloody Eyes."
"Oh boy!" Snark replied excitedly. "It's been five days since we've been in your service, and we were waiting to get out of the castle to do some conquering!" He said with the enthusiasm Rai'dley liked to hear. She hoped they wouldn't get distracted and forget what the mission was before they completed it.
From one of her secret pockets, she produced a small metal charm. She looped a thin silver chain through it, and held it up for the squinting orc to see. "This belongs to a woman named Corinna. She is on the King's Highway, headed north, following a large army of men. I want you to find her and kill her, and those with her." She tossed the charm at Snark, and he picked it up from where it slid across the floor to his feet. He sniffed the item as a hunting dog preparing for the chase. Orcs have a tremendous sense of smell, despite their own strong odor.
"Yes, Mistress. Right away, Mistress." Without even pausing to be dismissed, the orc awkwardly bowed and padded his way out of the room and back down the hallway.
"And Snark," Rai'dley called out to him. "Don't disappoint me." The tone of her voice made Snark shiver at the possibilities. It was definitely a warning more than a command. He had no response, but to hurry his pace down the long corridor.
The tension of the Thieves' Triangle behind them, the trio began to talk freely, needing to hear the sounds of their own voices again. They told stories to try to keep their minds off what might be happening in Oswegonia. They reminisced about the old days and their countless adventures gone by. They carried on like bards, their years of experiences together giving many great, and many not-so-glorious, moments to recount.
For Gerrod, probably the most memorable was when Corinna and he first met Ace. They had hired him to help them get into a library in ancient Midkemia, which forever slipped into the sands of that region. While it was nearly an adventure they didn't survive, in the end it proved quite profitable for all. Ace's skill had impressed them, and they had been friends ever since. They regaled the details as if it was just yesterday, but it seemed a lifetime ago. Gerrod barely remembered anything of his life before he met Corinna and Ace, but he remembered enough to know that part didn't matter.
That afternoon, the great winds came. Straight down from the North, they were unusually frigid and strong. Bright flashes of colorful leaves were swept from their limbs and carried on the strong currents. They struck with such force to rip into flesh with their jagged edges. The quickly rising wind roared through the branches of the trees, deafeningly. They yelled back and forth, always guarding from what the winds might sweep into their open mouths. It stung their eyes and froze their ears. They pulled out their extra clothing and bundled themselves the best they could, but they could not keep out the strength of the icy fingers of bitter air.
The winds had risen out of nothing. The skies had been fair and clear all morning, but the winds pushed in clouds where there had been only clear sky before. The thick clouds stole the warmth of the sun from them, leaving them just that much colder. It was unlike any weather Gerrod had ever seen before.
The sky glowed an eerie yellow, and it began to rain, which quickly turned into sleet in the bitter wind. Sleet proved harder to face than the leaves. The freezing rain mixed with hail, the size of a fist. Ice balls pummeled them from above. The sleet covered the road below them with a thick, slippery layer of ice, and the unforgiving wind pierced their soaked clothing. Just when they figured things couldn't get worse, lightning exploded all around them and lit the low clouds as well as it did their terror-filled faces. Still, from what they could tell, the army had yet to give up. They knew that to keep moving was the only way to stay warm and stay alive.
So they marched relentlessly, pushing themselves and their mounts past what could be expected, and kept constant prayers on their blue, frozen lips. Their heads bent low, not able to sit up and face the onslaught of terrible, unexplained weather. With the thunder clashing in their ears, and the howling winds shaking their tired horses, there was an unmistakable tremor beneath their mounts' feet. Misty scampered and struggled to keep her footing on the slick, ice covered stone road. Ace's pony lay down, but fortunately wasn't hurt by the fall. Thunder was forced off the road to seek the less slick grassy area between the roadway and the tree line. The proud steed dug in hard, and pulled itself back up the steep embankment to the roadway again.
This storm lasted the better part of the day, unrelenting and never lessening. They'd never seen a storm of such force last so long.
Then, as quickly as the gale force winds had come, they stopped, leaving the frozen adventurers leaning forward in their saddles. This gave them a much-needed rest, and they were able to relax some. However, before the darkness of night settled in, it began to snow. Even though the King's Highway was slowly taking them up into the mountains, this storm was unprecedented. Winter was not due for almost two months. It had never snowed before the fall festival for as long as any of them could remember, which was for a hundred years at least for Ace. He was the oldest. They all looked at each other, but no one would say it. Their silence agreed. Could this be the effect of the Orb of the Righteous?
Animals of all sizes and sorts scurried around them, caught unaware by the sudden snowfall. If winter started this early, without giving time enough to gather food, many animals and people would be dead before spring came. It shook Gerrod terribly to see nature itself fall apart all around him, but he never could have imagined how bad things would get.
The verse of Cy'nan's mysterious prophecy repeated over and over in his head.
"Death of Carrona, death of men.
Winter comes, has no end.
Nature's fury, unleashed at last.
No power to balance evil's cast."
Gerrod couldn't help respecting the nature of the world that he loved; but right then, he couldn't help being afraid -- very afraid. He did not care to see the effects of nature's fury unleashed.
Chapter 10
Star Shyne