Chapter 16-4

Worryingly, they were harried again and again over the next few days. Every time the Javni'Tolkhrah would approach them, and Almonihah would drive them off with arrows. Every time he injured or killed one or two of them... and every time even more returned.

“Don't like th' way this 's going,” he commented, watching as well over a dozen monstrosities flew away after the latest attempt.

“Perhaps it is better than if they simply waited until all had gathered?” Garkhen suggested.

Almonihah grunted. “Like they're getting us used t' it, or something,” he commented, ignoring Garkhen's optimistic thought.

“We shall have to remain vigilant, then,” Garkhen replied. “Perhaps more that are capable of invisibility are gathering?”

Almonihah shrugged slightly. “Never tell with Javni'Tolkhrah. Could do just about anything.”

“That is hardly reassuring,” Garkhen stated. “I shall do my best to ward us, but it is draining.”

“Save it for when they attack,” Almonihah replied. “I'll keep watch.”

“Me, too!” Zakhin'Dakh screeched. “I'll watch too!”

“Let us hope it is enough,” Garkhen said, worriedly.

They flew on in silence for a little while, then Zakhin'Dakh screeched again, “What if we chased them?”

Almonihah grunted. “Chasing them's prob'ly what they want. They always fly off in th' opposite direction from where we're going.”

Garkhen frowned, thinking over what he'd seen and realizing Almonihah was right. And something else, as well. “Then how are they always in front of us again?”

The Ranger paused to think, then growled. “Who knows if they have t' sleep.”

Garkhen shook his head slightly. “They still seem to be living creatures, surely they must sleep.”

Almonihah grunted. He didn't immediately respond, instead looking around. There was something to Garkhen's words... something... something wrong around them. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the ground beneath them. They were zooming past it, but...

Wait. They weren't going that fast. Things suddenly clicked into place as he took a hard look at their surroundings. They weren't making a lot of headway. Instead the ground beneath them was... blurring, giving the illusion of motion, while they fought against a headwind that made it feel like they were moving fast.

Almonihah swore under his breath. “Garkhen, can you do something 'bout this?”

Garkhen, confused, tried to look over his shoulder at the Ranger. “About what, my friend?”

“Th' blasted wind,” he growled in response. “Look hard. Th' ground's actually trying to fool us. Doing a good job 'f it, too.”

Zakhin'Dakh screeched a wordless question, then peered at the ground himself. “Yeah!” he agreed after a moment.

“Let me see what I can do,” Garkhen replied after looking himself.

He half-closed his eyes as he thought through the spell-prayers he knew. He'd never run across one for wind... but if this wind was Chaos-wrought, he might be able to do something.

The Warder raised his symbol of Bahamut and chanted a prayer. The change was subtle, but as Almonihah watched the ground, he saw that the illusion of motion was quickly becoming truth.

“That did 't,” he stated.

Garkhen nodded briefly. He didn't want to mention how much it was going to strain him to maintain this ward. Fighting back Chaos in the Madlands was draining, and he suspected they'd need all of their strength in times to come.

****************************

This section brought to you by the difference between air speed and ground speed. Also by the Madlands being, well, Mad.

Chapter 16-3

Somewhat to their surprise, nothing attacked them in the middle of the night. Zakhin'Dakh grumbled as he stretched out his sore muscles, and complained about eating old meat instead of hunting, but he knew well enough why he was putting up with all of this, so his complaints were mostly wordless, unhappy screeches. Almonihah patted his big friend soothingly as they breakfasted.

The land around them had mostly stayed steady, though the vegetation seemed somehow... watchful. Baleful. As if the very grass was glaring at them. Garkhen shuddered slightly as he re-mounted Zakhin'Dakh. Did the Amulet draw even the very substance of the Madlands?

Zakhin'Dakh took off with his two friends on his back, heading southeast again, towards the Maelstrom at the heart of the Madlands. He had not flown for long, however, before they could see dark shapes flying towards them.

“Took 'em long enough,” Almonihah commented acidly as he got his bow out.

There were only a handful of small flying monstrosities. They flew right at the much larger griffon, only to be shot down one-by-one as Almonihah fired on them. The Ranger looked around suspiciously as the last one fell.

“Something's not right about that...” he commented... then noticed he could still hear wing-beats other than Zakhin'Dakh's.

“Dive!” He shouted.

Zakhin'Dakh trusted Almonihah. That was likely the only thing that saved them, for the big griffon hadn't caught on to what was going on. He dove, plunging downwards suddenly at the Ranger's shout. Almonihah felt as much as heard the whistle of something passing right overhead.

Garkhen began chanting, then held up his symbol of Bahamut. It flashed with silver light, and a half-dozen more Javni'Tolkhrah appeared in midair above them.

“Right!” Almonihah shouted in Great Eagle, and Zakhin'Dakh banked just in time for another monster to dive past them.

Again Garkhen began chanting a spell-prayer. As he finished, a shimmering silvery shield formed above them, just in time for another Javni'Tolkhrah to impact it. The Warder grunted as he channeled power into the ward, and the beast bounced off, flipping and tumbling in the air, killed by the sudden impact with an unyielding surface.

“Okay, level off,” Almonihah told Zakhin'Dakh as he straightened and got into firing position. “That ward of yours let my arrows through?” He asked Garkhen.

“Yes,” was the Warder's terse reply.

Almonihah wasted no more words, either, instead opening fire. His first shot whizzed past one of the Javni'Tolkhrah, and suddenly they all broke off, scattering to the winds. He kept firing as they fled, managing to bring another down before they got out of range.

He growled as they left. “Going t' be back,” he commented. “Too clever. Don't like it.”

Garkhen let his ward fade as he said, “Agreed, on both counts. Is it the influence of the Amulet, or are Javni'Tolkhrah always this clever?”

The Ranger didn't take his gaze off them as they flew away. “Clever, yeah. Organized? Usually not. That's th' part that worries me most.”

Garkhen nodded soberly. “We shall have to be wary. I shall do my best to ward us against the approach of invisible creatures. It will be an alarm only, to conserve my strength."

Almonihah's response was a simple nod of agreement. Zakhin'Dakh, however, spoke up in Great Eagle. “Yeah, next time I'll bite them and tear them up!”

Almonihah snorted in amusement. “I'm sure they won't like that, Zakhin'Dakh.”

**********************

Nobody likes being torn up by Zakhin'Dakh. It hurts. A lot.

Chapter 16-2

The transition from normal reality to the Madlands looked subtle, but any who had crossed it knew it was felt more than seen. The feeling was impossible to describe, but unmistakable... a sense of the sudden shift in the laws of reality, perhaps? By now, all three friends knew the feeling.

Almonihah looked around warily. “Better keep 'n eye out for Javni'Tolkhrah,” he commented.

“Indeed,” Garkhen replied, his voice subdued.

They flew on in silence for some time, looking at the terrain below them and the air around them. This close to the borders of the Madlands there was no visible difference, but it seemed to flicker slightly in the corner of the eye, like something was twisting and changing when not watched. But for now, that was all—no monstrosities flew up at them, no mad cultists fired at them.

They made good time stopping only to eat. Slowly the land below them started to change, becoming more obviously distorted, more warped and twisted. Vegetation grew in sharp, unnatural shapes, or drooped in writhing masses that shuddered in nonexistent winds. Soil and stone were stained with sickening colors—violent purples and yellows, or slowly mingling oranges and greens. The land itself slowly moved and shifted, mountains sinking or rising, sand becoming fertile earth only to crumble back to sand again. Where they landed to eat, the land seemed to hold stable for a moment, but it continued flowing and changing at the edge of sight.

“How can we sleep here?” Garkhen asked as night fell. He glanced up at the sunset and shuddered—for a moment it he had felt as if the sun were rising instead of setting.

Almonihah shrugged. “Didn't have any trouble with that before. 'course, I wasn't lugging around th' Amulet.”

The Warder nodded. “I shall ward our campsite as best I can,” he stated. “If the land itself does not strive to kill us as we sleep, we shall be safe enough, at least warned should danger come.”

Almonihah nodded. Zakhin'Dakh, hearing the discussion, screeched, “Does that mean I can land now?” The exhaustion in his voice was plain, at least to the Ranger, who snorted softly and reached down to pat the griffon on the side.

“Yeah, you can land, Zakhin'Dakh. You need th' rest worse than th' rest of us.”

Gratefully the giant griffon spiraled down to a landing in a spot that looked at least halfway safe, his friends dismounting after he landed. Garkhen busied himself with preparing wards around them while Almonihah fed his big friend some preserved meat from their enchanted bags. As soon as he was full, Zakhin'Dakh settled down and closed his eyes, exhausted enough that the soreness from the day's labors couldn't keep him from drifting off to sleep.

The two half-dragons ate in silence, wary of every sound and sight around them. Even as they finished eating and retired to their tent they said nothing. There was nothing to say. 

***************************

Apologies for missing last week, I just got distracted.

The Madlands are not a good place. I don't think I did a good job at establishing that during the earlier forays into it.

Chapter 16-1

Chapter 16: Flight to the Storm

“What is required to resist evil? Good is, of course, the obvious answer, but a somewhat insufficient one. The mere existence of good does not combat evil. Rather, it is the doing of good, the spreading of hope, the performance of kind deeds... these are the first defense against evil.”

“The last is blade and fang.” – Garkhen

At last they were ready to depart. Almonihah and Garkhen both had new bags hanging from their belts—small bags that were much larger on the inside. Zakhin'Dakh now had a saddle-bag, though given the unusual shape of his saddle, it was on the back rather than the side of his saddle. All were filled with provisions, especially drink.

Other preparations were not as physical. When not speaking with the Mage-Archivist, Garkhen discussed warding against chaotic forces with wizards of the guild. Almonihah, for his part, dredged up his memories of Llinos, trying to recall what little he had learned of Naishia's magic. Zakhin'Dakh... simply enjoyed exploring human things.

The most critical preparation, however, was a container for the Amulet. Given its proven ability to draw in Javni'Tolkhrah, it was imperative for the success of their mission that they find a way to limit its influence. To this end, the mages of the Guild, Garkhen, and even a few priests of Mashano worked mighty wards and other spells into a box made of layered metals—lead, mithril, and steel—to block as much as possible the power of the Amulet. Garkhen now carried that box, with the Amulet within, in his pack as they met one last time with the Archmagi of the Mages' Guild.

“We have done all we can,” the head Archmage said. “We would send more with you, but a small group is easier to guard against the corrupting influence of Jivenesh, not to mention easier to supply. One last thing we give you, however.”

He gestured, and an apprentice wizard came forward with two small boxes. He opened one, displaying a small rod with intricate runes carved all along its length.

“These are beacons. Break one when you near Midport again, and it will alert us to your location. We can only go so far into the Madlands before magic itself is too unreliable to aid you, but should you find yourselves in need not too far from us, we will come.”

“Thank you, Archmage,” Garkhen said, taking one of the small boxes, while Almonihah took the other.

There was little more to say after that. Those assembled wished the two half-dragons and their griffon friend good fortune, and then they departed. Almonihah, Garkhen, and Zakhin'Dakh walked out of the Mages' Guild, the griffon again re-assuming his true size as they exited. Zakhin'Dakh crouched down next to a low wall, and first Garkhen and then Almonihah climbed on his back. Then he took off, flying southeast towards the Madlands. 

**********************************

It struck me today that I hadn't posted yet this week. So apologies for the lateness, but it's not quite next week yet!

Book III Interlude

Book III Interlude

That, as you might guess, is how I acquired the material for this book. After gleaning bits and pieces of their tales during their research time, I simply had to record their full stories. They are, as I might point out, heading into the heart of the Madlands, which very well may be the death of them. Thus it behooved me to get as much information on their lives from them as I could before they left. Not that I expect them to die, of course, but I must take precautions.

I was quite surprised by how talkative they were, I must say. Particularly Almonihah. If you can tolerate his 'accent' and get him talking, he's actually quite the intelligent fellow, if not very well-spoken. The griffon was the most unusual one to interview, however, given that he could understand me but I had to rely on a translator. I considered the use of magic, or asking one of my colleagues who knows Great Eagle to translate for me, but Almonihah was willing enough to translate.

Zakhin'Dakh himself is an interesting riddle. Was he more intelligent before his odd growth, or did the same influence that expanded his body expand his mind, as well? Or do we simply underestimate the intelligence of griffons? The griffon-riders of our guard are quite clear on their beasts being more than animals, but even they would hesitate to claim quite the degree of independent thought that this giant among griffons shows. Perhaps if he returns he might be convinced to allow himself to be studied for a time?

Garkhen is an oddity of a different sort. Quiet in spite of his heritage, somehow... unassuming, even when wearing armor built to withstand dragons. And yet with an adamant core. Knowing his past tells something of how he come to be as he now is, but I still feel as if I miss... something.

Whatever the case, even as I write, they fly into danger, carrying doom with them. We can only hope that their mission is successful, for I dare not think what might happen were it not...

*********************************

Who still remembers the frame story? Anyone? Well this is the last you'll hear of it. From here on out, I won't even maintain a pretense of there being an in-world author. It was a fun idea seven years ago, but... well, I don't really think it's worth it.

Chapter 15-4

Silence met Almonihah's statement. At last, one of the archmagi said, “That's insane! No one has lived to reach the Maelstrom!”

“I did,” Almonihah growled. “Lived t' come back, too. I was alone then. Better chance with a group.”

There was another long pause after this. “Well, I suppose that makes you the only qualified guide in the world, then,” another of the archmagi commented at last.

The head archmage spoke at last. “We will give you what support we can. Recent events have proven amply that this Amulet is too dangerous to retain, and too hazardous to our world to let go. If you can destroy it, it is in our interests to aid you in doing so. What will you need?”

Almonihah thought for a moment. “Food 'nd water are th' big things. Can't eat or drink anything out there. Hard t' carry enough with us, though.”

“That, I believe we can aid with,” another archmage stated.

The discussion then turned to the logistics of their journey to come. Gradually, they created a plan... but it was a plan that would take days to prepare. Days to enchant bags to be capable of holding enough food for the journey for two half-dragons and (especially) one giant griffon. Days to devise some sort of enchanted container that would restrict the Amulet's power to attract Javni'Tolkhrah.

Days for Almonihah and Zakhin'Dakh to be very, very, bored. At the least, that was what they feared. For his part Garkhen looked forward to browsing the unrestricted sections of the Mage's Guild library. But neither the Ranger nor the griffon were particularly interested in such activities.

It was here that Mage-Archivist Delanoche suggested telling their story. Somewhat to Garkhen's surprise, Almonihah agreed (Zakhin'Dakh's agreement was immediate and enthusiastic). And so it was that the three friends sat together for the better portion of most days, speaking with the Mage-Archivist, telling the story of how they had gotten to this point.

*******************

A short post, but hey, a post! I often struggle with these 'connective' sections--the ones that explain how the protagonists got from one plot point to another. I guess maybe I could gloss over it more than I do, but I think I already do so plenty.

Also, yes, this is when most of the story was written in-universe. There will be a quick note of that from the Mage-Archivist in the next post, and then I'll drop the pretense of a frame story entirely.

Chapter 15-3

It took them days of research to make headway. The first tantalizing hints were just that—hints. Oblique mentions of some past horror involving the Javni'Tolkhrah, but never anything clear. It was as if there was some agreement between the authors not to speak of the subject more.

It was Garkhen who at last stumbled upon a hint. Theorizing that, if there were indeed some agreement to banish all memory of something, it was more likely to have happened later rather than sooner, he had gone to some of the oldest-looking books on the shelf and started reading them carefully.

He frowned as he ran across one passage in particular. The Warder re-read it a couple of times, then looked up at his friends. “Look here. I believe I have found something.”

Almonihah, who had been focusing more on teaching Zakhin'Dakh to read than actually reading himself, looked up. “What?”

“This passage mentions a “Chainer” in connection with the Javni'Tolkhrah. It sounds possible, does it not?”

Almonihah grunted. “Were chains all over th' Amulet,” he admitted, cautiously. “What's it say?”

“Simply that 'Since the Chainer's death, the Chaos Mages have never again so threatened our world.' From there it goes on to discuss the hunting of Chaos Mages,” Garkhen stated, a hint of disapproval in his tone.

“Hm. 'Least it's something,” Almonihah replied, not sounding very impressed. He looked over at the Mage-Archivist. “Chainer mean anything to you?”

Mage-Archivist Delanoche frowned. “Chainer... Chainer... Let me see...” He went over to another set of shelves in the room and started looking over the books there. After a long moment he pulls one off and opens it, flipping through.

“Ah, here it is,” He declared after several minutes of searching. “This passage discusses the summoning of Chaos Beasts, as practiced by 'The Chainer'.”

Garkhen looked up at the Mage-Archivist, an unasked question in his gaze. After a moment, he asked, instead of the question on his mind, “What does it say of him?”

Mage-Archivist Delanoche scanned a couple of pages. “That the author's opinion is that The Chainer bound existing Chaos Beasts to his will rather than summoning them. This is a book on summoning, you see.”

“Does it say anything about the Amulet?” Garkhen asked, gazing intently at the book.

After several minutes he shook his head. “No. He says nothing of relevance to our problem. Simply his reasons for why he believes what he does, none of which mention any artifacts.”

The group was silent for a moment, until Garkhen stated, “That does, at least, seem to confirm this Chainer is related to this subject, for the Amulet seems to have power over the Javni'Tolkhrah...”

“So we have a name t' look for,” Almonihah finished, when Garkhen trailed off. “Something, I suppose.” After a moment he narrowed his eyes. “Something in here on ancient wars?”

There were, indeed, books on ancient wars, which led to books on war magic, and so on through many subjects. Slowly they were able to piece together a picture of the Chainer.

“To summarize what we have found,” Garkhen said a few days later, as they stood again before the remaining Archmagi, “This Chainer found some way to bind Javni'Tolkhrah to his will. If anyone knew it was this Amulet, there are no records here we can find of it. It seems that he used this power to wage a terrible war on one of the early human kingdoms, nearly overcoming it before they were saved by the intervention of the dwarves.”

“After which everybody decided t' hush up about th' whole thing,” Almonihah interjected. “Probably didn't want anyone else getting ideas.”

“Unfortunately, as none of them mention the Amulet, we are left without definite word on how it might be destroyed,” Garkhen continued. “However...” He hesitated. “The records do mention that they had discovered the Javni'Tolkhrah chafed against their master's power, for Chaos is ever ill-suited to servitude...”

“So our best guess's that enough Chaos'd break it,” Almonihah finished. He growled a bit at the thought, but after a moment of displeasure, he added, “'nd if there's enough Chaos anywhere, it's probably th' in th' Maelstrom.” 

*********************

Apologies for the unplanned hiatus. Holiday time can be like that. It didn't help that I was debating on just how to do a library scene.