Hi everyone. Here's chapter 15. Please e-mail me your comments!! Also feel free to view my webpage at http://spiffy_psycho.tripod.com. They really let me know whether or not this work is worth the effort. Oh yes, there's naughty words and some sex scenes, so if you're under 18.. Well, you know the rules. It's your butt, not mine. ;-) Thanks for reading!

-David.


 

The Dark One

by David M. Roduner

Chapter 15

The creature's barbed tusks dug into the ground and ripped chunks of earth free. Any flora growing in this instantly turned a deep black as the poison on the creature brought it instant death.

"It begins!" shouted Mwezi as he fired a volley of fire at the wicked boar. The volley of flame he issued at the enemy angered the creature. It began to rush towards John and Cor. John let out a made battle cry as Demonsdeath emitted a burst of energy. The boar shook his head in confusion as the brutes ran to attack the villagers. Chaos ensued as man attacked the dregs of the Dark One's wicked craft. The brutes, with their savage daggers, evilly overpowered the villagers' wooden weapons. John and Cor would gladly have helped, but were busied by the creature. Each strike seemed but a tap on the enormous creature.

Sensing that he was of little use, Mwezi Wimbo ran off to assist his people. After running a short distance, Mwezi notice with great disgust that a brute was eating a freshly killed villager. Shouting in rage, Mwezi lifter his staff and buried it in the heart of the feasting creature. Its eyes became instantly dull and lifeless.


"So tell me about yourself, blondie," Roland stated, bored out of his mind.

"You must not ask such things," Venes replied cryptically.

"Ach! Come now, lad! Mayhap you will feel more comfortable if I tell you first. I come from Frivesland, a land far north and west of here. I must say, 'tis quite a bit warmer than this icy terrain. In the spring, the grass be a brilliant green, and the wind gently blows. The flowers are so bloody bright, like golden jewels shining in a trove. The Master - I mean Goddess-"

"You may refer to the spirit or spirits that shaped our universe however you wish, friend, " Venes kindly interruped.

"Aye. Anyway, 'tis a lovely place. I remember back to my youth when Nicholai was king. I was a stable boy, and a friend of the young prince, Calamon. The prince and I were so close that he managed ot convince his father to elevate my status to minor courtier. I ever got a room in the east tower!
"Then old Nicholai died, and Prince Calamon ascended to the throne. Within a week, Serlatùn began to attack. It was a brief war, but a painful one. Both sides have tried to forget, I think. The people of Frievesland hailed the Goddess originally. The people of Serlatùn had three groups: whose who believe that their ancestors could be spiritual guides, those believeing in the 'Master,' and a small group still faithful to the Goddess. A very odd mix, aye? After too much blood was shed, King Calamon initiated a shaky truce with Wan Lin, the barbarian king of Serlatùn. As they say, only Calamon could go to Shringla! The capital city of Serlatùn, ye know.
"After this, the two countries agreed to praise the 'Master' as their god. Around this time, I met a lovely lady who came visiting from the southern part of Frivesland, from a town called Mayfaër. We fell in love and wed.
"I knew she had some skill with magicks, but I never realized the extent of her power. One night, after making love, she gladly told me she would give me a son. I was both overjoyed and frightened. Nine months later, my first and only son, Cornelius, was born. He and his mother were very close. I often felt estranged from the lad. We just thought differently. He viewed life in a completely different way than I. 'Tis rather difficult to describe."

Venes' eyes flickered to the ground, thinking of his Nejz.


Cornelius and John continued to throw bolts of power at the creature, but it seemed useless. "John, nothing's working!" screamed Cor. John looked at his lover, and nodded, fearing the worst. John wondered why the brutes had not attacked him or his lover. But looking at them, he realized: they were afraid of him. Afraid of his power. They seemed content to attack Roger the White: he was old and seemed weak. They were, however sadly mistaken.

Centering himself, as he had so patiently taught Cornelius, Roger drew power and attacked a group of mad brutes that were preparing to kill him. His amulet was glowing hot. Appearances, Roger thought smugly, are not viewed quite so well through the eyes of brutes. "Help will come, lads!" shouted Roger, finishing off another group.

The villagers were not faring so well. Having no war training but hunting, and no suitable weapons, they were being destroyed. That did not prevent them from putting up the fight of their lives. For every villager felled, one brute was felled for compensation. The brutes did have one major weakness: too long had their wicked lust been repressed. Their need for flesh outbid even their desire to maim, destroy and kill. This mad, unquenchable thirst for manflesh had the wicked things of death and disease gobbling up the fallen victims. This provided the perfect opportunity for the villagers to thrusts the brutes' own spears through their empty souls.

John and Cor were having more and more difficulty keeping the creature at bay. It seemed to be growing in resistance to their spells, which were weakening by the moment. "Cor," John said lovingly, holding Cor's hand, "this may be our end. And if so, let it be. But do not forget that I love you with my very soul. Thank you for just being you, my sweet." The human contact did exactly what was needed: the power of the two was shared and equaled, and as they gave one last blast of power, they heard...

"...By the spurs pluck’d up, the pine and cedar: graves at my command. `Have wak’d their sleepers, op’d, and let them forth. By my so potent art. But this rough magic ... is not useless! Welcome to the south, the land known as Sior Geimhreadth, my sweet mages of Serlatùn!" A little man who appeared to be of oriental descent has arrived with a group of hundreds of monks, it seemed. But no, they were the mages of Serlatùn, friends of Mahou Ichida. They wore cloaks seemingly made of burlap. They quickly discarded their attire, and were seem as muscular men in the prime of their youth, all completely hairless. "Let us now equalize! Chosen ones, join our power, if you please!" John and Cor nodded, sharing their power with the mages, and found a middle ground. Completely ready, all mages threw every ounce they posessed at the creature. It screamed a horrible yell as its flesh bubbled and fell into the sea.

John and Cor looked at each other, elated at their luck. They hugged tightly. However, about three thousand brutes were not so happy. They roared louder than before and attacked John and Cor, along with hundreds of villagers and mages, whether they had magic in them or not.


"As the years past, Cornelius became stranger and stranger. I didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do with or about him. So I let his mum do the work. She seemed more and more frightened as the years went by. She knew there was something special about him. Something she must keep secret.
"As the new Church became accepted in our land, new leaders emerged: those of the new religion. First came the most dangerous of them all: The Cardinal. He is known by no other name. I do not think that even he knows any other names for him. The Cardinal quickly became powerful, and along with that came madness. The Cardinal began a crazed witch hunt. It was his duty, he said, as proclaimed by the Master, to root out all evil magic. For the Cardinal was not gifted with magic, but with cunning. And those that could overthrow him put him in great fear. Among the victims of his need for ethnic and spiritual cleansing was my wife. My friend, King Calamon, warned me of this. I ignored it by drowning myself in strong liquor. I was dead drunk that afternoon. My wife was out in the meadow speaking to my only son the evening, and out came the Cardinal, playing the double role as brutish axeman. I did not want to think that my wife was a witch. The new church law prohibited it. And I missed the chance to say goodbye. I even threatened her with a sword!" Roland wiped stray tears from his eyes, pretending they had not been there.
"But as the Cardinal's power grew stronger yet, another slime came to our land. His name is Mørkt Servio. And so the Cardinal's power dwindled, and Mørkt Servio rose to power, slowly overtaking the king. They are both pure evil: I can see that now!"

Venes suddenly looked quite alert. "I must leave you now," he responded. "Stay here, where it is safe. I am needed in another part of this circle. I must tell you of Nejz at another time." Venes went to the oak sapling and transported himself.

"And then there was one," Roland said quietly.

 


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