The Rift – Part V (Fimm)

The Rift: Part V (Fimm)

Daealla could see Abel’s forces marching their way to her camp from atop the tree she was perched. They were to meet days ago to embark on their journey towards Harald and the Nordic lands. Daealla had received news from one of her elves the day before that one of Abel’s scouts had rode ahead to give the news. Apparently the human’s armor weighed the carts down and that led to many becoming stuck in the soft, muddy grounds before The Shivering Valley. Daealla briskly climbed down the tree and set off to find her captains. 

The Woodland Elves had a smaller army than most, but that never mattered. They were always regarded as the more adroit people, and even though no wars had been fought in ages they kept up their training all the same. The army comprised of three captains, each in charge of roughly twenty-five hundred men. Each of those captains then had sub-captains, and those sub-captains had others to serve them, and so on and so forth. Daealla’s Captains were special though and had been with her for almost the entirety of her reign as queen. She was also lucky enough to have one of her own sons as a captain, and that was who she was searching for now.

It didn’t take her long to find him. As she expected, he was in the war room with a few of his soldiers perusing the lands that both armies would soon be traversing. 

“Hello, mother. My men have told me that Abel has finally arrived. Shall we begin packing our tents and set out tonight? Or would we be staying another night to allow them rest before this treacherous journey begins?”

“That is why I am here, Kieran. I would like you to ride with me to his caravan and see what he plans.”

“Of course, mother. Saeval, fetch my horse… and grab your queen’s mare as well.” The man nodded and hastened himself out of the tent. 

“Have you found anything new regarding the pass that lies at the end of the Shivering Valley?” Daealla quizzed her eldest son.

“Not much. It seems as if it is the only road we can travel on to reach Harald’s army though. It is unwise for us to split our army here, but without doing so we leave ourselves open to attack. If we go high, we risk the mages raining fire from above, or even destroying the ground beneath our feet and plummeting us to our death. But if we go low we are certainly asking for Harald’s men to bombard us with arrows from above.”

“I agree.” Daealla could hear the neighing of her prized horse as it neared the war room. “Come, we must go now. Hopefully Abel has more that can be of use to us.” The two made their way outside and mounted their Akhal-Teke. It was nothing for these horses to maneuver themselves through the camp, and before long the two were out in the open field. Daealla’s breed was one of the rarest palomino’s. It had an iridescent cream coat that shone gold in the sunlight, and a thick, pale smoke mane. Kieran’s was a much more ordinary chestnut color, yet it possessed a magnificent mane of ivory that was speckled with muddy brown markings. 

After a few minutes galloping, the mother and son had reached the fringes of Abel’s now halted army. It was massive, over ten thousand troops if Abel’s counts had been correct. It will take us forever to find this man in a crowd so large. And none of his men are even acknowledging us. 

“You there, where can I find your leader?” Daealla blurted to the nearest soldier. But before he could stop and turn to answer, she noticed the massive man riding toward her. She quickly recognized him as Abel by the golden armor he was decorated with, and the massive longsword that was strapped to his back. The sword was a Rudland family heirloom, passed down from father to son every generation. Night’s Fate was known as one of the oldest swords in Delahden, and received its name from the swordsman who crafted it. It was originally Knight’s Fate, as it determined the fate of many knights in those ancient times. Yet as it was passed down the Rudland line, and as those Rudlands became keepers of peace across their lands, its name took on a different meaning from the eternal night it brought on to all of the evil fates its path crossed with.

“Daealla, my apologies for the delays. If you’d be so kind as to follow me, I have my quarters being set up now. We must discuss our plans moving forward, and with haste.” The king quickly turned and rode off, giving Daealla no choice but to follow. 

“Well I guess that is our answer then.” Kieran muttered to his mother as they began trodding after Abel. 

“Quiet, Kieran. We do not need to cause problems in our first meeting with the king’s people. Keep silent and let me do the talking for now.” Her son looked agitated, yet he knew she was right. Their horses quickly caught up to the slower, bulkier horse the king rode, and within a few hundred yards they arrived at an already erect tent. Inside awaited Sage, the king’s most loyal advisor, and six of his other highest ranking captains. The seven of them were seated around a makeshift table, and all were already engrossed with whatever books, scrolls, and maps had been laid in front of them.

“Sage, if you’d be so kind as to show Daealla and Kieran the notes from our scouts. I need them caught up as soon as possible.” Sage stood immediately and began rummaging through the stack of scrolls on the table. 

“Ahh, here it is.” He turned and walked it over to Daealla before handing the slightly charred rolled parchment to her. Daealla swiftly skimmed the notes and handed it back to king’s advisor. 

“So it is true then. There is no other way to pass and Harald’s men are already setting up for an ambush?” Daealla asked the room.

“Theoretically… yes. It is our only reasonable option at this point.” Abel stated.

“Reasonable? So there are other options? I will like to risk as few elven lives as possible in this journey to an unknown north, Abel. None of us know what we will face once we make our way through the pass, but I for one would like to have as many of my people alive when we do. Tell me, what is this unreasonable option.”

“One of my men’s families used to live near the pass. He said that he knows of a cave system that will lead us a few miles past the pass, but that it is incredibly dangerous and could lead to even more deaths than simply fighting off Harald’s ambush.”

“Ymir’s Corridor… I have heard rumors of this in the past, but never thought them to be true. It was said that the monsters unfit to roam our world were cast there by Thor himself. But there is no way this can be true. Abel, we must explore this option. If we can save our people’s lives then we MUST at least think about taking this route instead of the other.”

“I do not like it, and honestly wish you would have not liked it either, but I agree. These caves could save countless lives, and it will all but ruin whatever Harald has planned.”

“What makes you think that Harald wont have men waiting for us outside the entrance to these caverns on his side of the pass?” Kieran probed. Daealla’s eyes shot to her son. I told him to keep his mouth shut. He oversteps the king.

“That is a great question, son. He very well could set an ambush there, and we could essentially be forced to retreat back into the caves. Yet, Harald is a stubborn man who thinks he knows best, and he knows this is something I would never willingly submit my people to. He will not guard our exit out of this corridor your mother speaks of, and this may be our chance to turn the tide in our favor before the war even begins.”

Kieran nodded in approval before gazing over to his mother. “When do we set out then, Abel?” Daealla asked.

“We leave now. Sage, have the men get their things packed and await my command to march. Hudson, split the lore we have on Ymir’s Corridor with Daealla’s men. We need to know as much about what may lie within before we reach the entrance. Return to your people Daealla, prepare them. What lies ahead may not be pretty.”

Daealla turned and exited the tent with Kieran on her heels. 

The Rift – Fimm

The Rift: Part V (Fimm)

Daealla could see Abel’s forces marching their way to her camp from atop the tree she was perched. They were to meet days ago to embark on their journey towards Harald and the Nordic lands. Daealla had received news from one of her elves the day before that one of Abel’s scouts had rode ahead to give the news. Apparently the human’s armor weighed the carts down and that led to many becoming stuck in the soft, muddy grounds before The Shivering Valley. Daealla briskly climbed down the tree and set off to find her captains. 

The Woodland Elves had a smaller army than most, but that never mattered. They were always regarded as the more adroit people, and even though no wars had been fought in ages they kept up their training all the same. The army comprised of three captains, each in charge of roughly twenty-five hundred men. Each of those captains then had sub-captains, and those sub-captains had others to serve them, and so on and so forth. Daealla’s Captains were special though and had been with her for almost the entirety of her reign as queen. She was also lucky enough to have one of her own sons as a captain, and that was who she was searching for now.

It didn’t take her long to find him. As she expected, he was in the war room with a few of his soldiers perusing the lands that both armies would soon be traversing. 

“Hello, mother. My men have told me that Abel has finally arrived. Shall we begin packing our tents and set out tonight? Or would we be staying another night to allow them rest before this treacherous journey begins?”

“That is why I am here, Kieran. I would like you to ride with me to his caravan and see what he plans.”

“Of course, mother. Saeval, fetch my horse… and grab your queen’s mare as well.” The man nodded and hastened himself out of the tent. 

“Have you found anything new regarding the pass that lies at the end of the Shivering Valley?” Daealla quizzed her eldest son.

“Not much. It seems as if it is the only road we can travel on to reach Harald’s army though. It is unwise for us to split our army here, but without doing so we leave ourselves open to attack. If we go high, we risk the mages raining fire from above, or even destroying the ground beneath our feet and plummeting us to our death. But if we go low we are certainly asking for Harald’s men to bombard us with arrows from above.”

“I agree.” Daealla could hear the neighing of her prized horse as it neared the war room. “Come, we must go now. Hopefully Abel has more that can be of use to us.” The two made their way outside and mounted their Akhal-Teke. It was nothing for these horses to maneuver themselves through the camp, and before long the two were out in the open field. Daealla’s breed was one of the rarest palomino’s. It had an iridescent cream coat that shone gold in the sunlight, and a thick, pale smoke mane. Kieran’s was a much more ordinary chestnut color, yet it possessed a magnificent mane of ivory that was speckled with muddy brown markings. 

After a few minutes galloping, the mother and son had reached the fringes of Abel’s now halted army. It was massive, over ten thousand troops if Abel’s counts had been correct. It will take us forever to find this man in a crowd so large. And none of his men are even acknowledging us. 

“You there, where can I find your leader?” Daealla blurted to the nearest soldier. But before he could stop and turn to answer, she noticed the massive man riding toward her. She quickly recognized him as Abel by the golden armor he was decorated with, and the massive longsword that was strapped to his back. The sword was a Rudland family heirloom, passed down from father to son every generation. Night’s Fate was known as one of the oldest swords in Delahden, and received its name from the swordsman who crafted it. It was originally Knight’s Fate, as it determined the fate of many knights in those ancient times. Yet as it was passed down the Rudland line, and as those Rudlands became keepers of peace across their lands, its name took on a different meaning from the eternal night it brought on to all of the evil fates its path crossed with.

“Daealla, my apologies for the delays. If you’d be so kind as to follow me, I have my quarters being set up now. We must discuss our plans moving forward, and with haste.” The king quickly turned and rode off, giving Daealla no choice but to follow. 

“Well I guess that is our answer then.” Kieran muttered to his mother as they began trodding after Abel. 

“Quiet, Kieran. We do not need to cause problems in our first meeting with the king’s people. Keep silent and let me do the talking for now.” Her son looked agitated, yet he knew she was right. Their horses quickly caught up to the slower, bulkier horse the king rode, and within a few hundred yards they arrived at an already erect tent. Inside awaited Sage, the king’s most loyal advisor, and six of his other highest ranking captains. The seven of them were seated around a makeshift table, and all were already engrossed with whatever books, scrolls, and maps had been laid in front of them.

“Sage, if you’d be so kind as to show Daealla and Kieran the notes from our scouts. I need them caught up as soon as possible.” Sage stood immediately and began rummaging through the stack of scrolls on the table. 

“Ahh, here it is.” He turned and walked it over to Daealla before handing the slightly charred rolled parchment to her. Daealla swiftly skimmed the notes and handed it back to king’s advisor. 

“So it is true then. There is no other way to pass and Harald’s men are already setting up for an ambush?” Daealla asked the room.

“Theoretically… yes. It is our only reasonable option at this point.” Abel stated.

“Reasonable? So there are other options? I will like to risk as few elven lives as possible in this journey to an unknown north, Abel. None of us know what we will face once we make our way through the pass, but I for one would like to have as many of my people alive when we do. Tell me, what is this unreasonable option.”

“One of my men’s families used to live near the pass. He said that he knows of a cave system that will lead us a few miles past the pass, but that it is incredibly dangerous and could lead to even more deaths than simply fighting off Harald’s ambush.”

“Ymir’s Corridor… I have heard rumors of this in the past, but never thought them to be true. It was said that the monsters unfit to roam our world were cast there by Thor himself. But there is no way this can be true. Abel, we must explore this option. If we can save our people’s lives then we MUST at least think about taking this route instead of the other.”

“I do not like it, and honestly wish you would have not liked it either, but I agree. These caves could save countless lives, and it will all but ruin whatever Harald has planned.”

“What makes you think that Harald wont have men waiting for us outside the entrance to these caverns on his side of the pass?” Kieran probed. Daealla’s eyes shot to her son. I told him to keep his mouth shut. He oversteps the king.

“That is a great question, son. He very well could set an ambush there, and we could essentially be forced to retreat back into the caves. Yet, Harald is a stubborn man who thinks he knows best, and he knows this is something I would never willingly submit my people to. He will not guard our exit out of this corridor your mother speaks of, and this may be our chance to turn the tide in our favor before the war even begins.”

Kieran nodded in approval before gazing over to his mother. “When do we set out then, Abel?” Daealla asked.

“We leave now. Sage, have the men get their things packed and await my command to march. Hudson, split the lore we have on Ymir’s Corridor with Daealla’s men. We need to know as much about what may lie within before we reach the entrance. Return to your people Daealla, prepare them. What lies ahead may not be pretty.”

Daealla turned and exited the tent with Kieran on her heels. 

The Rift – Fjórir

The Rift: Part IV (Fjórir)

As Orrowyn walked through the camp he remembered how warm the Nordic lands used to be. That was over 75 years ago, and much has changed since then. Harald had his men constructing cheval de frise to surround the city it seemed. They wouldn’t do much good against the woodland elves Akhal-Teke, but it would slow down the humans. I’ll need to have Sharik and Ezadel reinforce those barriers with some magic, just to hold off as many men as possible

“Excuse me, sir. The King would like to see you.” Orrowyn turned and spotted a very young man, maybe 17 years of age. Not an ounce of muscle on his body or a scar that told a tale. Must be Harald’s new squire, Orrowyn thought to himself.

“Where shall I be heading young one?”

“Through those tents ahead. Then make a right and walk until you reach the stairs. Go up and follow the parapet around to the castle. Harald should be out front waiting for you.” 

The man turned and walked away without another word. Harald’s men follow his orders to a fault. I wonder if he is that much of a leader or if they’re all just scared for their lives. He was stopped twice more by Harald’s men while on his way to the castle. The first group of guards were curious as to what business he had at the castle. He told them the king had sent for him and they reluctantly let him through. The second time, however, he was stopped by an older man. He was well past his day but was still eager to fight for his king. He also knew of Orrowyn and his past. 

“Me mum use ta tell me stories of ya when I was a child. The Great Orrowyn, master mage and slayer of evil. She also told me ya had a spell that kept ya young, and invincible too. What say ya cast it on me so I don’t die fighting in this battle to come?”

Orrowyn chortled at the question. “Clearly your mother was mistaken, can’t you see how old I look now? Tell me sir, what’s your name?”

“Charles, but the men ‘round here call me Gaffer since I’m the oldest in the camp.”

“Well Charles, if I had that spell I would gladly cast it on you. You’re the only man in this camp who has treated me with respect since I’ve arrived.”

“Oh don’t take that personal, sir. Most of the men here just don’t know who ya are. Once they see what y’are capable of they’ll give you that respect ya seek.”

“Haha whatever you say, Charles. Thank you for the conversation. I’ll be seeing you again soon I’m sure.” The man nodded as Orrowyn began for the castle again. After another minute or so he could finally see it. A hulking stone beast that was originally hid behind towers and barracks for the king’s higher tiered soldiers. As he passed through the gate and neared the courtyard a few hundred yards away, Orrowyn could already hear Harald’s booming voice over the clanging of swords.

“NO. No, no, no, wrong, no! You all will get killed fighting like that. You must be quicker on your feet. The woodland elves will run through you all if you don’t. They fight with a subtle grace that is dangerous because you cannot always tell what they are going to do. They will not fight like the humans. Johan, come here and spar with me. I’ll show you how the elves will fight.”

Harald grabbed one of his men and pulled him to the center of the crowd of soldiers. The man looked absolutely terrified to be fighting against his king. Orrowyn stopped where he was to watch the two spar, as he didn’t want Harald to know he was here just yet. Harald slowly circled the man before starting his attack. The man put his sword up to block the attack but Harald side stepped with ease before slamming his sword into the man’s ribs. He fell to a knee and Harald proceeded to smack the flat of his blade against the man’s skull. 

“One of you come join Johan, I’m in need of a real challenge.” Two men stepped forward at once. They looked at each other and as the second went to turn away Harald began laughing. “Haha. Both of you, attack!”

They looked at one another again before they slowly walked to opposite sides of Harald. Johan was still rattled, but he stood and joined the other two. They all charged at once, yet not one of them landed their blow. Harald ducked under the first swing as he swept his leg around to knock Johan’s feet out from under him. The third man thought he had Harald. As he brought his sword down past Harald and into the dirt, Harald had dropped down and spun on his left knee to end up behind the man. He stood and kicked the man in the back of the knee before he even had a chance to turn towards Harald. All three men writhed in pain on the ground before their fellow soldiers.

“Do you see now? You must take this seriously! I am quick, but the woodland elves will be quicker. Start worrying about avoiding attacks rather than being the first to strike. Patience is key when fighting an elf, you must wait for the most opportune moment to strike.” Harald sheathed his sword and turned to say something else to his men, but that was when he noticed Orrowyn standing in the distance.

“Orrowyn, how nice of you to finally show yourself. Walk with me, we need to discuss our plan of attack against Daealla and Abel.”

Orrowyn began walking through the crowd of men towards Harald. As he neared the king, the two continued through the crowd and into the street behind them. They walked together for a few hundred yards before Harald began talking again.

“My scouts have told me that Abel and Daealla have began their march towards us. It will only take them two, maybe three, fortnights to make it to the pass. I’d expect the woodland elves to travel on the high roads above the pass and Abel’s men to stay down low, just to avoid an ambush from above. What say you so far?”

“I’d agree. There is no way they haven’t thought through every detail of this trek across Delahden. I highly doubt we will be able to surprise them, unless we attack from behind.” Orrowyn answered.

“And how in fuck’s sake would we get behind them mage?” Harald clearly thought Orrowyn was not taking this conversation seriously.

“My men can create portals for us. The problem is they don’t last very long and are incredibly obvious to those who know how to look for them.”

“So Daealla and her elves? You want us to give our location away before we even ambush them. I thought you were smarter than that Orrowyn. Plus you will not find a damned man in my army who’d be willing to travel through one of your portals. They have nothing against magic, but they will never use it themselves.”

“You’re a great leader Harald, convince them. We would only need about 1,000 soldiers to go along with myself and my men. That would be what, roughly five percent of your army? We would travel back to a place two days behind where your scouts have last seen our enemies armies. That should be more than enough for Daealla to not notice the portals. Your thousand men should be more than enough to intimidate the rear guard. Once the army is facing two directions, you encircle them with your riders and have the brunt of the force attack head on.”

“I don’t like it. Not one bit. I told you already, my men won’t go through your portals. It may be a solid plan, but I won’t do it.” Harald bit back.

“Well what would you have us do then, Harald? Simply sit and wait and let their army lay siege upon your city?” 

“DO NOT insult my intelligence Orrowyn. You damn mages always think that you’re better than us all. Of course I don’t simply want them to attack the city… But I do want them to think that’s their best option. I will send a scouting party of a few hundred to attack their forces and scare them. Make them think it’s an ambush and catch them off guard. Hopefully that will rattle their plans and they will be stupid enough to attack the city. Then you and your mages can teleport behind them and do as you please. My men will be able to hold the city without you. Now leave me, I have men to train.”

Orrowyn stopped and stared at the king in disbelief. He has already gone mad. Drunk of the little power he thinks he has. We will lose so many men with a plan this ignorant and half-witted. I must find a way to convince him of this folly. “Of course, Harald.” Orrowyn turned to leave, but Harald stopped him one last time.

“Oh, and Orrowyn… henceforth you will refer to me as king. Be sure to let your men know as well.”

The Rift – Part IV (Fjórir)

The Rift: Part IV (Fjórir)

As Orrowyn walked through the camp he remembered how warm the Nordic lands used to be. That was over 75 years ago, and much has changed since then. Harald had his men constructing cheval de frise to surround the city it seemed. They wouldn’t do much good against the woodland elves Akhal-Teke, but it would slow down the humans. I’ll need to have Sharik and Ezadel reinforce those barriers with some magic, just to hold off as many men as possible

“Excuse me, sir. The King would like to see you.” Orrowyn turned and spotted a very young man, maybe 17 years of age. Not an ounce of muscle on his body or a scar that told a tale. Must be Harald’s new squire, Orrowyn thought to himself.

“Where shall I be heading young one?”

“Through those tents ahead. Then make a right and walk until you reach the stairs. Go up and follow the parapet around to the castle. Harald should be out front waiting for you.” 

The man turned and walked away without another word. Harald’s men follow his orders to a fault. I wonder if he is that much of a leader or if they’re all just scared for their lives. He was stopped twice more by Harald’s men while on his way to the castle. The first group of guards were curious as to what business he had at the castle. He told them the king had sent for him and they reluctantly let him through. The second time, however, he was stopped by an older man. He was well past his day but was still eager to fight for his king. He also knew of Orrowyn and his past. 

“Me mum use ta tell me stories of ya when I was a child. The Great Orrowyn, master mage and slayer of evil. She also told me ya had a spell that kept ya young, and invincible too. What say ya cast it on me so I don’t die fighting in this battle to come?”

Orrowyn chortled at the question. “Clearly your mother was mistaken, can’t you see how old I look now? Tell me sir, what’s your name?”

“Charles, but the men ‘round here call me Gaffer since I’m the oldest in the camp.”

“Well Charles, if I had that spell I would gladly cast it on you. You’re the only man in this camp who has treated me with respect since I’ve arrived.”

“Oh don’t take that personal, sir. Most of the men here just don’t know who ya are. Once they see what y’are capable of they’ll give you that respect ya seek.”

“Haha whatever you say, Charles. Thank you for the conversation. I’ll be seeing you again soon I’m sure.” The man nodded as Orrowyn began for the castle again. After another minute or so he could finally see it. A hulking stone beast that was originally hid behind towers and barracks for the king’s higher tiered soldiers. As he passed through the gate and neared the courtyard a few hundred yards away, Orrowyn could already hear Harald’s booming voice over the clanging of swords.

“NO. No, no, no, wrong, no! You all will get killed fighting like that. You must be quicker on your feet. The woodland elves will run through you all if you don’t. They fight with a subtle grace that is dangerous because you cannot always tell what they are going to do. They will not fight like the humans. Johan, come here and spar with me. I’ll show you how the elves will fight.”

Harald grabbed one of his men and pulled him to the center of the crowd of soldiers. The man looked absolutely terrified to be fighting against his king. Orrowyn stopped where he was to watch the two spar, as he didn’t want Harald to know he was here just yet. Harald slowly circled the man before starting his attack. The man put his sword up to block the attack but Harald side stepped with ease before slamming his sword into the man’s ribs. He fell to a knee and Harald proceeded to smack the flat of his blade against the man’s skull. 

“One of you come join Johan, I’m in need of a real challenge.” Two men stepped forward at once. They looked at each other and as the second went to turn away Harald began laughing. “Haha. Both of you, attack!”

They looked at one another again before they slowly walked to opposite sides of Harald. Johan was still rattled, but he stood and joined the other two. They all charged at once, yet not one of them landed their blow. Harald ducked under the first swing as he swept his leg around to knock Johan’s feet out from under him. The third man thought he had Harald. As he brought his sword down past Harald and into the dirt, Harald had dropped down and spun on his left knee to end up behind the man. He stood and kicked the man in the back of the knee before he even had a chance to turn towards Harald. All three men writhed in pain on the ground before their fellow soldiers.

“Do you see now? You must take this seriously! I am quick, but the woodland elves will be quicker. Start worrying about avoiding attacks rather than being the first to strike. Patience is key when fighting an elf, you must wait for the most opportune moment to strike.” Harald sheathed his sword and turned to say something else to his men, but that was when he noticed Orrowyn standing in the distance.

“Orrowyn, how nice of you to finally show yourself. Walk with me, we need to discuss our plan of attack against Daealla and Abel.”

Orrowyn began walking through the crowd of men towards Harald. As he neared the king, the two continued through the crowd and into the street behind them. They walked together for a few hundred yards before Harald began talking again.

“My scouts have told me that Abel and Daealla have began their march towards us. It will only take them two, maybe three, fortnights to make it to the pass. I’d expect the woodland elves to travel on the high roads above the pass and Abel’s men to stay down low, just to avoid an ambush from above. What say you so far?”

“I’d agree. There is no way they haven’t thought through every detail of this trek across Delahden. I highly doubt we will be able to surprise them, unless we attack from behind.” Orrowyn answered.

“And how in fuck’s sake would we get behind them mage?” Harald clearly thought Orrowyn was not taking this conversation seriously.

“My men can create portals for us. The problem is they don’t last very long and are incredibly obvious to those who know how to look for them.”

“So Daealla and her elves? You want us to give our location away before we even ambush them. I thought you were smarter than that Orrowyn. Plus you will not find a damned man in my army who’d be willing to travel through one of your portals. They have nothing against magic, but they will never use it themselves.”

“You’re a great leader Harald, convince them. We would only need about 1,000 soldiers to go along with myself and my men. That would be what, roughly five percent of your army? We would travel back to a place two days behind where your scouts have last seen our enemies armies. That should be more than enough for Daealla to not notice the portals. Your thousand men should be more than enough to intimidate the rear guard. Once the army is facing two directions, you encircle them with your riders and have the brunt of the force attack head on.”

“I don’t like it. Not one bit. I told you already, my men won’t go through your portals. It may be a solid plan, but I won’t do it.” Harald bit back.

“Well what would you have us do then, Harald? Simply sit and wait and let their army lay siege upon your city?” 

“DO NOT insult my intelligence Orrowyn. You damn mages always think that you’re better than us all. Of course I don’t simply want them to attack the city… But I do want them to think that’s their best option. I will send a scouting party of a few hundred to attack their forces and scare them. Make them think it’s an ambush and catch them off guard. Hopefully that will rattle their plans and they will be stupid enough to attack the city. Then you and your mages can teleport behind them and do as you please. My men will be able to hold the city without you. Now leave me, I have men to train.”

Orrowyn stopped and stared at the king in disbelief. He has already gone mad. Drunk of the little power he thinks he has. We will lose so many men with a plan this ignorant and half-witted. I must find a way to convince him of this folly. “Of course, Harald.” Orrowyn turned to leave, but Harald stopped him one last time.

“Oh, and Orrowyn… henceforth you will refer to me as king. Be sure to let your men know as well.”

The Rift – Part III (þrír)

The Rift: Part III (þrír)

“But Abel, we cannot attack the Nordic tribes head on. I understand that we outnumber them, but they have retreated back to THEIR lands. We do not stand a chance at defeating them within their own terrain.” Sage pleaded with his king, but deep down he knew there was no changing his mind.

“I do not care. Harald will pay for what he has done. How could he kill my only boy? He was so young and had so many things yet to accomplish. And all over a stupid barkeep’s daughter! I will not rest until he befalls the same fate as Alexander. Harald Leif’s head will rest on a spike for eternity when I am through with him.” Abel Rudland furiously pounded his fist on the war table where he had seated himself. Most of the war pieces tumbled and fell off the sides from the force of the human kings rage. 

“I know what he did was uncalled for, sire. I’m sure we can meet with Daealla and Orrowyn and they will join our cause. Then we can vote him out of command and replace Harald with a new leader,” Sage bleated as he slowly kneeled down to pick up the fallen pieces. “And then if it comes down to it we would at least have allies for the war that breaks out.”

“Oh bet your ass war will break out, Sage. Orrowyn himself fled before we awoke. That bastard probably helped Harald plan all of this. I’ve known for quite some time the mage thinks this whole treaty is a pointless waste of time, but I didn’t see him rushing to Harald’s side to kill my boy.” The king paused for a moment as his eyes wandered over to his son’s armor in the corner of the room. They had found the boy’s body in the barkeep’s shed the day after his severed head had been found. It was cold and lifeless, laying in a pool of blood and already starting to rot. He had been planning on giving his son his new set of golden armor as they made their way back after the treaty, but now he regretted not giving it to him sooner. 

“Whether the woodland elves and mages side with us or Harald, the treaty has been broken. I plan on attacking that miserable excuse of a man no matter the cost. It must be done. In the name of Alexander Rudland, it must be done.” The king stood and slowly walked out of his solar, leaving Sage to himself. Abel had been fuming since he found Alexander’s head plunged on to that spike. It had been nearly four days of rage, but now the grief was settling in. As he paced the halls of his castle he realized he was subconsciously making his way towards Alexander’s room. He continued heading that way, but as he got to the door he stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to enter the boy’s room and he knew that he would never be able again unless the man responsible for his death had been punished. He turned and decided to head to the kitchens. It had been four days since his son’s death and four days since Abel’s last meal, but he now knew what he must do would require him to be at full strength.

After his meal he paced back to the war room in hopes of finding Sage. As he neared the door he heard voices inside and assumed Sage had called the king’s other trusted advisers for a meeting. He opened the door and was shocked to see Daealla within the room with Sage. “Daealla, what are you doing here? How did you get in? I have the city on full guard and -” 

“Abel, you know I have my ways. Full guard or not I can make my way into any city unnoticed. But that is beside the point, I am here to talk strategy. I know what you are planning to do.” 

Daealla stared into Abel’s soul. She had the most beautifully ominous eyes he had ever seen, and it was almost as if her gaze was calming him by the second. “Good, Ymir knows we could use the help.” Abel walked to his chair and sat across from Daealla as Sage pulled a chair by his king. “Have you heard anything from Orrowyn Daealla? I want to know if that coward had anything to do with this and if he will side with Harald or us.” Daealla averted her gaze from the king for the first time since he entered, and the calm feeling vanished.

“I have heard nothing from him, but I know he had nothing to do with your son’s death. One of my children saw everything that happened that night. I will spare you the details bu-”

The king cut off the Woodland Queen. “You will do no such thing. I will know how my son died, it is a father’s right to know.”

Daealla nodded, but didn’t speak right away. After a moment had passed she finally explained the details of that night to Abel. By the end of the tale the king was shaking with anger. “And your boy, why didn’t he step in to do anything? Why didn’t he run to tell anyone?”

“He is only 15 years of age, Abel. What would he have done against a man such as Harald? He was scared out of his wits that night and hid behind the bar until well after the Norsemen had left. And I would’ve told you sooner as well had you not left for your city’s walls so quickly. I know you are grieving Abel, but we are on your side and behind you no matter what. What Harald did… there is no excuse for it. He must pay for his crimes and we MUST return peace to our lands. Unfortunately, I believe the only way to do so will be to start a war that will remove him from power.”

“And Orrowyn, what of him? I know you two have been close for many years now.” Abel questioned.

“We don’t know of his true involvement, but it seems as if he has sides with Harald. We will do what we must Abel, and if that involves removing Orrowyn from this world then it will be a sacrifice I must make.”

Abel leered at Daealla. He wasn’t sure she would be able to kill one of her closest friends if it came to it, but he knew he would have no issue doing what she could not if Orrowyn had anything to do with the death of Alexander. The human king stood and turned to the door. “It is settled then, we will meet just south of The Shivering Valley. Head back to your people, Daealla, and be sure they are prepared. We head for war at the next full moon.”

The Rift – Prir

The Rift: Part III (Prir)

“But Abel, we cannot attack the Nordic tribes head on. I understand that we outnumber them, but they have retreated back to THEIR lands. We do not stand a chance at defeating them within their own terrain.” Sage pleaded with his king, but deep down he knew there was no changing his mind.

“I do not care. Harald will pay for what he has done. How could he kill my only boy? He was so young and had so many things yet to accomplish. And all over a stupid barkeep’s daughter! I will not rest until he befalls the same fate as Alexander. Harald Leif’s head will rest on a spike for eternity when I am through with him.” Abel Rudland furiously pounded his fist on the war table where he had seated himself. Most of the war pieces tumbled and fell off the sides from the force of the human kings rage. 

“I know what he did was uncalled for, sire. I’m sure we can meet with Daealla and Orrowyn and they will join our cause. Then we can vote him out of command and replace Harald with a new leader,” Sage bleated as he slowly kneeled down to pick up the fallen pieces. “And then if it comes down to it we would at least have allies for the war that breaks out.”

“Oh bet your ass war will break out, Sage. Orrowyn himself fled before we awoke. That bastard probably helped Harald plan all of this. I’ve known for quite some time the mage thinks this whole treaty is a pointless waste of time, but I didn’t see him rushing to Harald’s side to kill my boy.” The king paused for a moment as his eyes wandered over to his son’s armor in the corner of the room. They had found the boy’s body in the barkeep’s shed the day after his severed head had been found. It was cold and lifeless, laying in a pool of blood and already starting to rot. He had been planning on giving his son his new set of golden armor as they made their way back after the treaty, but now he regretted not giving it to him sooner. 

“Whether the woodland elves and mages side with us or Harald, the treaty has been broken. I plan on attacking that miserable excuse of a man no matter the cost. It must be done. In the name of Alexander Rudland, it must be done.” The king stood and slowly walked out of his solar, leaving Sage to himself. Abel had been fuming since he found Alexander’s head plunged on to that spike. It had been nearly four days of rage, but now the grief was settling in. As he paced the halls of his castle he realized he was subconsciously making his way towards Alexander’s room. He continued heading that way, but as he got to the door he stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to enter the boy’s room and he knew that he would never be able again unless the man responsible for his death had been punished. He turned and decided to head to the kitchens. It had been four days since his son’s death and four days since Abel’s last meal, but he now knew what he must do would require him to be at full strength.

After his meal he paced back to the war room in hopes of finding Sage. As he neared the door he heard voices inside and assumed Sage had called the king’s other trusted advisers for a meeting. He opened the door and was shocked to see Daealla within the room with Sage. “Daealla, what are you doing here? How did you get in? I have the city on full guard and -” 

“Abel, you know I have my ways. Full guard or not I can make my way into any city unnoticed. But that is beside the point, I am here to talk strategy. I know what you are planning to do.” 

Daealla stared into Abel’s soul. She had the most beautifully ominous eyes he had ever seen, and it was almost as if her gaze was calming him by the second. “Good, Ymir knows we could use the help.” Abel walked to his chair and sat across from Daealla as Sage pulled a chair by his king. “Have you heard anything from Orrowyn Daealla? I want to know if that coward had anything to do with this and if he will side with Harald or us.” Daealla averted her gaze from the king for the first time since he entered, and the calm feeling vanished.

“I have heard nothing from him, but I know he had nothing to do with your son’s death. One of my children saw everything that happened that night. I will spare you the details bu-”

The king cut off the Woodland Queen. “You will do no such thing. I will know how my son died, it is a father’s right to know.”

Daealla nodded, but didn’t speak right away. After a moment had passed she finally explained the details of that night to Abel. By the end of the tale the king was shaking with anger. “And your boy, why didn’t he step in to do anything? Why didn’t he run to tell anyone?”

“He is only 15 years of age, Abel. What would he have done against a man such as Harald? He was scared out of his wits that night and hid behind the bar until well after the Norsemen had left. And I would’ve told you sooner as well had you not left for your city’s walls so quickly. I know you are grieving Abel, but we are on your side and behind you no matter what. What Harald did… there is no excuse for it. He must pay for his crimes and we MUST return peace to our lands. Unfortunately, I believe the only way to do so will be to start a war that will remove him from power.”

“And Orrowyn, what of him? I know you two have been close for many years now.” Abel questioned.

“We don’t know of his true involvement, but it seems as if he has sides with Harald. We will do what we must Abel, and if that involves removing Orrowyn from this world then it will be a sacrifice I must make.”

Abel leered at Daealla. He wasn’t sure she would be able to kill one of her closest friends if it came to it, but he knew he would have no issue doing what she could not if Orrowyn had anything to do with the death of Alexander. The human king stood and turned to the door. “It is settled then, we will meet just south of The Shivering Valley. Head back to your people, Daealla, and be sure they are prepared. We head for war at the next full moon.”

The Rift – Part I (Ein)

The Rift: Part I (Ein)

Long before The Age of Men ended, Delahden was inhabited by four races that spanned a massive continent. Each race was unique in its own way and was scattered amongst the land, yet all still managed to live in harmony.

In the northeastern corner dwelled the five Nordic tribes. They were hulking men and women, said to be direct descendants of Ymir himself, and well known for their ability to track, hunt, and fight. Their lands spanned roughly a third of Delahden and were plagued with steep, rolling hills and harsh climates. As one traveled further north the terrain became much more treacherous, which is where the leader of all five tribes could be found.

Harald Leif was the largest Norseman anyone had ever seen. He came from a long line of tribal leaders, all of which had led their people to unimaginable successes over the years. His great grandfather was the first to stop the fighting between the tribes, and his father had drafted the treaty that brought true peace to all Norsemen. Harald had no children, though he had been close many times. He was now on his fourth wife, with the prior three all dying during child birth. Unfortunately, the children perished as well, with none of them surviving more than a month before succumbing to the elements of the northern lands.

Moving west, stretching from the northwestern edge all the way down to the wooded peninsula and over to the Lake of Prosperity was where the human race resided. Their lands were covered in glowing sea foam fields of shin-high switch grass that stretched as far as the eye could see. Unlike the Nordic lands the terrain here was flat and almost void of danger.

The humans were the most populous of the four races and had known nothing other than monarchy for the last few hundred years. Their current king was Abel Rudland, the first of his name and longest reigning king of his kind. He had one son, Alexander, who he was most proud of. Both father and son were majestic swordsmen and would continue to lead the human race into prosperity over the foreseeable future.

From the southern corner of Delahden all the way to eastern coast, the fields of grass began transforming into thickets of Banyans and Sequoias. These towering trees housed the small-statured woodland elves as well as a remarkable array of flora and fauna. Many believed these elves grew straight from the trees themselves due to their woodish looking skin and affinity for protecting the trees at all costs.

Leading the woodland elves was Daealla Paeris, one of the most beautiful queens the elven race had ever seen. She was much larger than the other elves, yet still minuscule in comparison to the other races. She had nine young children, but only two of those were her own. The others all came from families that had befallen unfortunate circumstances, or in some cases had died unexpectedly. Daealla was known after all as the “Magnanimous Queen” among her people; she was constantly sacrificing something of her own to help better others lives.

In the south-westernmost point of the realm, the beautiful sea foam colored grass faded to a dark amber orange from all of the salt that sprayed in from the two surrounding seas. The thickets of trees that en-housed the elven race vanished, and the mages replaced their smaller neighbors on the larger of Delahden’s peninsulas. The mages were unlike all the other races in the fact that they typically were known as drifters, and because they were actually a mixture of multiple races. Most are some mix of wood elf and human or wood elf and viking, but all began their trek south in hopes of understanding more about The Gift. Those who develop The Gift earlier on clearly stand out from the ones who develop it later however. They mature at a more rapid pace than the late blooming mages, and have a knack for all things magical. All mages tend to outlive other races as well, since the magic that flows through their bodies is that of the gods.

In command of the mages was Orrowyn Brovkos. He was chosen as leader over fifty years ago, and many believed he was well past his two hundredth day of birth. He was the greatest mage Delahden had ever seen and it was rumored he had mastered all forms of magic by the age of seven. Orrowyn had also been working on a new branch of magic that involved scarce ingredients and more developed powers, but no one outside of his few trusted council members had any specifics on the matter.

Each year the leaders, their most trusted advisers, and their families traveled to the center of the realm to discuss the future of Delahden. They met for six days to discuss bettering their people’s lives and to trade for goods certain regions did not have. It was a joyous time for all as they explored each other’s cultures and celebrated another year of life. But of course, all good things must come to an end.

The Rift – Einn

The Rift: Part I (Einn)

Long before The Age of Men ended, Delahden was inhabited by four races that spanned a massive continent. Each race was unique in its own way and was scattered amongst the land, yet all still managed to live in harmony.

In the northeastern corner dwelled the five Nordic tribes. They were hulking men and women, said to be direct descendants of Ymir himself, and well known for their ability to track, hunt, and fight. Their lands spanned roughly a third of Delahden and were plagued with steep, rolling hills and harsh climates. As one traveled further north the terrain became much more treacherous, which is where the leader of all five tribes could be found.

Harald Leif was the largest Norseman anyone had ever seen. He came from a long line of tribal leaders, all of which had led their people to unimaginable successes over the years. His great grandfather was the first to stop the fighting between the tribes, and his father had drafted the treaty that brought true peace to all Norsemen. Harald had no children, though he had been close many times. He was now on his fourth wife, with the prior three all dying during child birth. Unfortunately, the children perished as well, with none of them surviving more than a month before succumbing to the elements of the northern lands.

Moving west, stretching from the northwestern edge all the way down to the wooded peninsula and over to the Lake of Prosperity was where the human race resided. Their lands were covered in glowing sea foam fields of shin-high switch grass that stretched as far as the eye could see. Unlike the Nordic lands the terrain here was flat and almost void of danger.

The humans were the most populous of the four races and had known nothing other than monarchy for the last few hundred years. Their current king was Abel Rudland, the first of his name and longest reigning king of his kind. He had one son, Alexander, who he was most proud of. Both father and son were majestic swordsmen and would continue to lead the human race into prosperity over the foreseeable future.

From the southern corner of Delahden all the way to eastern coast, the fields of grass began transforming into thickets of Banyans and Sequoias. These towering trees housed the small-statured woodland elves as well as a remarkable array of flora and fauna. Many believed these elves grew straight from the trees themselves due to their woodish looking skin and affinity for protecting the trees at all costs.

Leading the woodland elves was Daealla Paeris, one of the most beautiful queens the elven race had ever seen. She was much larger than the other elves, yet still minuscule in comparison to the other races. She had nine young children, but only two of those were her own. The others all came from families that had befallen unfortunate circumstances, or in some cases had died unexpectedly. Daealla was known after all as the “Magnanimous Queen” among her people; she was constantly sacrificing something of her own to help better others lives.

In the south-westernmost point of the realm, the beautiful sea foam colored grass faded to a dark amber orange from all of the salt that sprayed in from the two surrounding seas. The thickets of trees that en-housed the elven race vanished, and the mages replaced their smaller neighbors on the larger of Delahden’s peninsulas. The mages were unlike all the other races in the fact that they typically were known as drifters, and because they were actually a mixture of multiple races. Most are some mix of wood elf and human or wood elf and viking, but all began their trek south in hopes of understanding more about The Gift. Those who develop The Gift earlier on clearly stand out from the ones who develop it later however. They mature at a more rapid pace than the late blooming mages, and have a knack for all things magical. All mages tend to outlive other races as well, since the magic that flows through their bodies is that of the gods.

In command of the mages was Orrowyn Brovkos. He was chosen as leader over fifty years ago, and many believed he was well past his two hundredth day of birth. He was the greatest mage Delahden had ever seen and it was rumored he had mastered all forms of magic by the age of seven. Orrowyn had also been working on a new branch of magic that involved scarce ingredients and more developed powers, but no one outside of his few trusted council members had any specifics on the matter.

Each year the leaders, their most trusted advisers, and their families traveled to the center of the realm to discuss the future of Delahden. They met for six days to discuss bettering their people’s lives and to trade for goods certain regions did not have. It was a joyous time for all as they explored each other’s cultures and celebrated another year of life. But of course, all good things must come to an end.