Ullethane sat with his packmates, other young boys and girls, and listened intently to the elder as he told the stories of their heritage.
“Once the Reavers had slain the dragon Nymiir, they looted its horde and went their separate ways, the seeds of greed and envy already taking root.” The old man recited.
After pausing for affect the elder continued, “Our Allfather, Loddfafnir, went into the mountains and was caught in a raging blizzard and almost died from the wounds he still bore from the great wyrm Nymiir. He would have died that day were it not for Brynvildr, our wolf mother. You see perhaps Loddfafnir was drawn to her, or she to him. The blood of man and of the winter wolf ran through the veins of Brynvildr, and while Loddfafnir was a man he had the soul and wore the skin of the winter wolf. So Brynvildr took Loddfafnir to her cave and tended to his wounds and they lay together.”
Giggles always went through the throng of children at this point in the story, but Ullethane was too enraptured for what came next to indulge such frivolity.
“Loddfafnir would not stay with Brynvildr for he was a lone wolf, but he left something precious with our wolf mother, he left his blood. The blood that now flows through our veins. Loddfafnir travelled further into the mountains and came to a place that he was inexplicably drawn, but he was not the only one drawn there. So too were the other Reavers. They all felt the power of this place and put aside their differences and united to build a mighty keep on this site. How could they have known that another castle once stood at this very site? How could they have known that the evil of Chernobog still festered beneath the mountain?”
“So Reaver Hall was built, five towers erected for the five factions that comprised the Reavers. There was our Allfather Loddfafnir, the dark elf Eclavdra and her fell companions, the devil worshiping archmage Alystaire, the warrior known as Death Incarnate, and the brothers Armageddon. It was there in that great hall that the simple seeds of greed and envy were nourished by the unspeakable evil of That Which Sleeps Below.” The elder said with a flourish as he pointed up into the peaks where Reaver Hall could be seen in the distance.
“The Reavers were no fools. They built their keep on a remote peak with only this narrow pass for access or egress. Now the duty falls to our pack to keep the pass secure. None shall enter the hall until The Blood of the Reavers Flows Forth. It is our blessing and our curse.” Concluded the elder as he looked directly at Ullethane.
Now…
Ullethane had heard the screeching and the insults before, yet he dare not look up into the sky to see their source. It galled him, he was a Runewolf, a chosen warrior, the last of his kind. It was for that very reason he did not allow himself the luxury of looking up into the face of evil.
“We go to feast on the souls of your pack mates, lone wolf, won’t you stop us?” came the foul grating voice of the gargoyle flying above with others joining in the laughter.
“Come wolf prince, come and join your pack, I will not only feast on your soul, but on your flesh as well!” came the most hated voice of them all. This creature was the doing of the evil archmage Alystaire who had sold his soul to Asmodeus. But in order to summon the Arch Devil he needed a messenger and a sacrifice. Alystaire had summoned a deva, a servant of good. He trapped the poor creature and flensed its soul from her material form and bound her to his summoning pool. Worse he tethered a diabolical spirit to the deva’s physical form which twisted and deformed the once beautiful deva into the hideous creature that now flew above.
Ullethane dared not look up, the risk was too great. The creature could turn him to stone if he met her gaze, just as she had done to his pack mates. Yet he knew she would not risk herself to engage him, for he had been chosen. Ullethane’s hand grasped the pin that held his winter wolf skin cloak around his neck. The pin was a symbol of his god. Some called him Helm, but Ullethane knew him by another name. He was the god of vigilance and guardianship and that duty was his alone now. Nothing would distract him from his duty. It was his blessing and his curse.
No comments:
Post a Comment