Story | THE DARK WARLOCK – chapter 8

Here comes the fresh Chapter 8 of the story [THE DARK WARLOCK] from Darth2018. Let’s see together what happens

The day was easing past the tenth hour when a lookout atop Krakgaard Angtur’s tallest tower suddenly cried out.

“Beware! Soldiers approaching. Close the gates!”

He turned and began striking a long bar of iron with a hammer tethered to the post from which the bar hung. Voices rose in alarm as the clanging echoed in the courtyard and soldiers bearing bows poured out of a door set in the tower’s top, swarming out to take up positions along the rim. A tall elf warrior emerged and walked quickly to the lookout to gaze at the distant mass of soldiers moving slowly toward the gates of the Angtur.

The warrior stood massaging his whiskered chin, his weathered face squinting as he stared. “They are dragging something and I think I see dwarves among them!” He peered closely for another instant, then he nodded. “It’s Ralnar, there on the left of the column.” He leaned over the tower’s edge and cried “Open the gates. Form up a squadron of cavalry!”

The big elf hurried down from the tower, scrambled into the saddle of his waiting mount and led forty knights through the gate to ride quickly for the approaching formation. As they neared the oncoming formation, he saw his lord and waved.

“Hail, Ralnar Rohillion! We come to aid you as you seem hampered with a heavy burden!”

“Greetings, Glimfel!” Ralnar replied. “Indeed, we can use your help.”

Glimfel drew up beside his lord and stared open-mouthed at the sight of the beast Ralnar’s men had been dragging. It had been a long journey and the walls of the fortress were a welcome sight. He rose in his stirrups and took a long look, then turned to Rohillion.

“What manner of beast do you bear, my lord? And why can’t I smell it, for I deem you have been on the road for many days?”

“I have been told it is an Orn. Ask me not to describe it or explain how it had come to our lands, for I cannot. I only know it is the creature that savaged the castle. We shall learn more.” Ralnar motioned the elf to come closer.

“Glim,” he said quietly, “how is Aeylinn? Have the mages come? Can they help her?”

Glimfel dropped his head and quietly replied, “Ral! Old friend, none have come yet.”

Rohillion stared at the warrior. “None have come?” Disbelief warred with a rising fury on Ralnar’s stunned expression. “Astropor? Nehmbrodel? Surely Wynlayne would answer our plea?”

Glimfel shook his head sorrowfully. “Alas, Ral, the king refuses any expeditions into the Saumarra now. The appearance of many strange and dangerous creatures has given him pause to risk his city for anything.”

“Even his own daughter? Did he know it was Aeylinn hurt so badly?” Rohillion growled.

“Ral,” Glimfel murmured, aware of listening ears not far off, “I can not speak to what he knew. The heralds were dispatched at your command and all returned unaccompanied.”

“So!” Ralnar grunted. “Alone are we now?” He sat up in his saddle, his fury visible to Glimfel. He turned to the troop following. “Linmaer! Jaul! See to that carcass! Put in the northern paddocks and post a guard.”

Rohillion spurred his horse and raced forward to the gate, the hooves of his stallion clattering across the stones of the courtyard. Leaping from his saddle, the tall elf strode swiftly into the Great Hall. Mirrell rushed to his side.

“She’s upstairs in your chambers, Ral!” The tall house mistress said. “She rests better up there now. What news of your quest?”

Rohillion looked at her, his chiseled features worried. “The beast is slain, though it was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. We shall learn about it tomorrow.”

He climbed to his apartments, noting Mirrell had posted four guards by the door. They stepped back, bowing as he arrived. The apartment was dark and quiet. He listened for a moment. Gentle breathing on his left.

“Ral?” her voice was very soft and subdued. “Is that you, lord of Krakguaard?”

He moved beside her and found her hand, small and soft in his calloused palm.

“Heart of my heart! Every moment I was gone was a torment for me.” He fought to keep his voice steady.

“Dearest Ral,” she soothed him gently, “I know I’m blind now!”

Her steadfast statement broke his heart, for he sensed the despair she was fighting against, all for him.

He held her hand tenderly. “Beloved, we shall search every mage, every wizard, every sorcerer in Nyria for the magic to restore your sight. Never fear.”

“Sweet, brave Ralnar”, she sighed, “if anyone could find the magic for that it would be you…but alas, you need eyes to work on and mine are gone.”

Ral sobbed and her hand gripped his fiercely. “Brave heart! Hold your head high, husband. I couldn’t not lead the defense of our home in your absence. I have a duty too!”

He held her hand to his cheek. “Aye, brave lady! Now you must believe in me. If there is any way to restore your sight by any means in Nyria, I shall find it!”

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