The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📖
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frail looking fearie since it probably wasn’t able to swing a sword to defend itself anyhow.
He said, “Listen, ye skinny fool! Since we both hate them goblins ‘n such maybe we should make an agreement of some kind, involving you leaving…preferably.”
At the mention of goblins, a long time unspoken of treaty was invoked. Though it was seldom discussed it was one of the oldest treaties in the world. Everyone hated goblins. Their foulness and repugnancies, added to the fact they were evil, made even elves and dwarves ally with one another. The only things those two races had in common after all was a basic goodness and respect for the land, and they hated goblins.
Cann-Dar was stumped. He never thought a dwarf would invoke the treaty first. In all recorded incidences the elves were always forced to invoke the treaty first in the face of dwarven stubbornness. Having no way to skirt the issue he had to agree. Slaytor smiled triumphantly as the elf’s shoulders sagged and he nodded his assent. The dwarf immediately grabbed a nearby shovel and began to dig through the tightly packed earth.
Speaking as he dug he said, “Name’s Slaytor. My father’s father left me a map to this spot. I don’t know what lies in this dirt, but I will split it fair and even.”
Cann-Dar only nodded as deeper and deeper dug the canny dwarf.
It wasn’t long before the hole was deep and a small black chest was handed up. As the dwarf climbed his way out of the hole the elf cast two simple spells. The first to check for magical wards and the second to open it. When the small lock sprung loose from the chest the dwarf ducked out of reflex. He’d seen many traps in his day, even on small chests such as this one. When the lid was opened both men held their breath. Neither knowing what it was they were anticipating. Both were hoping for something that would help their causes. The red glow that exuded from the thing in the chest kept them both silent with wonderment. About as large as three hands fully spread was a rune beaten from some of the densest iron either man had ever seen. The rune was a symbol or character of unknown origin or meaning.
Cann-Dar picked it up from the chest and said, “I will need time to decipher it and study spells that may aid me in understanding it. Whatever it is, dwarf, it comes from an age before my people’s rise to civilization.”
Slaytor could only stare slack jawed at that. As far as he had been told and his father before him, elves were the first to come together in a society. That was a begrudgingly accepted truth among his and other races. If that was not the truth then who were the first and what power did they wield to so long ago smelt this iron and the eerily glowing magic held within?
^ ^ ^
Somewhere very far from Ara’moor an aging priest sat at a fire. In a state of mind to feel the very essence of the world he felt and saw more things in one day than others would in a lifetime. Today he shuddered and nearly fell when he suddenly felt a presence of great power reentering the flow of the world. A presence he’d trained himself to recognize. A presence he felt could prove to be a final hope for his people.
His name was Krosten, his people, Slayarians. More than seventy winters seemed to barely touch him, and he looked no older then fifty. Garbed in a felt cape of religious celebration he was the last high priest of his kind. Beside him were eight young Demonslayers. Each of them had been left hidden in different lands to be saved from the wars that were prophesied to occur during their childhood. Besides the old high priest these were the last remnants of an entire people. Already, two of the children he had set out to recover were gone from their homes. He knew the urge to adventure and discover was irresistible to any young Demonslayer. None could resist these urges as long as they could swing a sword or cast a spell. He considered it luck alone that brought these five safely to his care for he had only just gathered them in recent months and several more remained to be found. Finally they understood the mark on their heads as the priest explained everything fully and truly to them.
Now though, another purpose was about to interfere with his progress. He must recover the artifact of his gods, the symbol of the Demonslayers. Once long ago placed at the southern gate of the city called Slayaria it generated an impenetrable sphere surrounding its entire expanse. It was the treachery of demons that stole away the symbol. Without it the Demonslayers, already outnumbered and hunted down until none lived beyond those walls, were vulnerable. The numbers of the horde of evil were vast beyond measure. Equaling, Krosten had guessed, every creature in the Abyss and earth that hated the Demonslayers. Demons, humanoid races of evil, and creatures of the fabled underworld, all attacked that fateful day. The Demonslayers fought well and a few managed to escape alive. He was the last elder and he was gathering the young. Now he had a chance to recover Slayaria’s pride.
The eight youngsters were still overwhelmed at being told that twelve years ago Demonslayer sympathizers had fostered them in. This information did seem to focus them a bit. This sounded more like a quest. None of them had been on more than one adventure, but adventuring they could understand. They’d each dreamed their entire lives to be famous adventurers. Now, Krosten put to them a challenge and spoke of honor, hope, and glory. They would indeed find the symbol of their lost people and take it no matter the risk, no matter the trial.
^ ^ ^
The stealthy half elf led the way through the tunnels back to the surface. Sevele knew the direction they were heading because of her affinity for Ara’moor. The opening under Jvar was inaccessible so they went north where the trickster mentioned an entrance that was guarded by Bealrotti. They knew that no guardians would remain. It still took time to find the entrance as it was well hidden. It lay shadowed in a cubby above the cavernous floor. Two huge tunnels came from the south and one smaller opening went north. The cavern bowled upwards and downwards as if it was once a water filled bubble in the earth. The hidden entrance led to a long stairway to the surface. Taking it they all relaxed greatly when the open sky was once again above them. None of them mentioned it while they were underground but the presence of so much earth above their heads was very disconcerting. Gathering their possessions they headed south to bargain with the wily Jvar.
With Graton hiding nearby but far enough that the mind peering trickster wouldn’t sense him, three confident companions entered the clearing once again. Darkon had tested his mindflow ability on the way out of the tunnels. He learned how far one could be from him before he could no longer reach their minds and found that when they were out of his direct sight they were out of mind’s reach entirely. Also he told his friends to picture only specific things in their minds to see if he could peer past the focal thought. That also he could not do. Only if he was allowed access could he get inside their minds. Or, when one was totally unaware of his attempts and their thoughts were unfocused he could glimpse deeper. Thus they found a base understanding of the abilities Jvar possessed and knew now how to avoid his seeing through their deceptions. Thinking only on the death of the great monster from the lake they would not only keep him unaware of their tricks but also possibly intimidate him with the knowledge that they had already slain one great beast.
As they entered the area monitored by Jvar they caught him unaware. He was half dozed and purring contentedly on his stone perch.
“Ho there, Jvar!” Darkon boomed, “We have returned and your balance is to be paid!”
Holding Graton’s original spear of ash wood and fine steel before him he tossed it point first into the ground just before Jvar's perch. Awake now, Jvar narrowed his sleepy eyes and looked without a word toward them all. Searching their thoughts he could only find the death of the creature of the lake. Raising up on all fours and stretching his powerful wings he seemed to consider taking his leave while he could. Perhaps he feared these newly confident creatures would decide he was fair game as well.
Warily he looked toward the spear before him. “You did not enter here with such an item so I must accept your word on its authenticity.”
Trying once again to reach the party’s thoughts he looked from one to the other hoping to find an opening. There was none.
“So dark one, you wish repayment and Jvar always pays his debts. To properly do so we will need to be alone, for our thoughts alone can break the barrier in your mind. Your friends may watch from beyond the clearing so as not to interfere and also if they would, prevent any other interruptions.” Jvar said.
Thinking on it for a moment Darkon found these to be reasonable requests and nodded at his two concerned friends. Though Galen trusted Jvar not at all and Sevele wanted to stay by his side, they acquiesced. They walked to just beyond the edge of the clearing. There they could still see he and Graton as well who was perched high in the limbs of a tall spruce. If Jvar did try anything unfriendly these three friends would be quick to stand at Darkon's side.
After a time of Jvar making his own mental preparations he began to instruct Darkon on how to do so as well. “Now, clear your thoughts, Darkon the Demonslayer. Clear it of all images and feelings and words. Clear it and bring only an empty, dark wholeness around yourself.”
On and on Jvar droned, boring the three watchers but bringing Darkon to a state of mind he’d never known. On and on he droned until the blackness did come. The emptiness around Darkon showed how he was truly one with everything and everything was one with him. Darkness then became a focal point on which he concentrated.
Seeing only darkness he heard Jvar say, “Now I stand before a barrier in your mind. Only you can open this barrier. I can guide you to the correct actions, the correct thoughts. You know who you are and have rediscovered much of your character and personality. Your mindflow has begun to reopen due to necessity. Now, all that remains is to recall what you are, why you are, who you should be and would have been. Open yourself to the darkness you perceive and know that it is not truly darkness at all. It is but one small fragment of the entire picture of
He said, “Listen, ye skinny fool! Since we both hate them goblins ‘n such maybe we should make an agreement of some kind, involving you leaving…preferably.”
At the mention of goblins, a long time unspoken of treaty was invoked. Though it was seldom discussed it was one of the oldest treaties in the world. Everyone hated goblins. Their foulness and repugnancies, added to the fact they were evil, made even elves and dwarves ally with one another. The only things those two races had in common after all was a basic goodness and respect for the land, and they hated goblins.
Cann-Dar was stumped. He never thought a dwarf would invoke the treaty first. In all recorded incidences the elves were always forced to invoke the treaty first in the face of dwarven stubbornness. Having no way to skirt the issue he had to agree. Slaytor smiled triumphantly as the elf’s shoulders sagged and he nodded his assent. The dwarf immediately grabbed a nearby shovel and began to dig through the tightly packed earth.
Speaking as he dug he said, “Name’s Slaytor. My father’s father left me a map to this spot. I don’t know what lies in this dirt, but I will split it fair and even.”
Cann-Dar only nodded as deeper and deeper dug the canny dwarf.
It wasn’t long before the hole was deep and a small black chest was handed up. As the dwarf climbed his way out of the hole the elf cast two simple spells. The first to check for magical wards and the second to open it. When the small lock sprung loose from the chest the dwarf ducked out of reflex. He’d seen many traps in his day, even on small chests such as this one. When the lid was opened both men held their breath. Neither knowing what it was they were anticipating. Both were hoping for something that would help their causes. The red glow that exuded from the thing in the chest kept them both silent with wonderment. About as large as three hands fully spread was a rune beaten from some of the densest iron either man had ever seen. The rune was a symbol or character of unknown origin or meaning.
Cann-Dar picked it up from the chest and said, “I will need time to decipher it and study spells that may aid me in understanding it. Whatever it is, dwarf, it comes from an age before my people’s rise to civilization.”
Slaytor could only stare slack jawed at that. As far as he had been told and his father before him, elves were the first to come together in a society. That was a begrudgingly accepted truth among his and other races. If that was not the truth then who were the first and what power did they wield to so long ago smelt this iron and the eerily glowing magic held within?
^ ^ ^
Somewhere very far from Ara’moor an aging priest sat at a fire. In a state of mind to feel the very essence of the world he felt and saw more things in one day than others would in a lifetime. Today he shuddered and nearly fell when he suddenly felt a presence of great power reentering the flow of the world. A presence he’d trained himself to recognize. A presence he felt could prove to be a final hope for his people.
His name was Krosten, his people, Slayarians. More than seventy winters seemed to barely touch him, and he looked no older then fifty. Garbed in a felt cape of religious celebration he was the last high priest of his kind. Beside him were eight young Demonslayers. Each of them had been left hidden in different lands to be saved from the wars that were prophesied to occur during their childhood. Besides the old high priest these were the last remnants of an entire people. Already, two of the children he had set out to recover were gone from their homes. He knew the urge to adventure and discover was irresistible to any young Demonslayer. None could resist these urges as long as they could swing a sword or cast a spell. He considered it luck alone that brought these five safely to his care for he had only just gathered them in recent months and several more remained to be found. Finally they understood the mark on their heads as the priest explained everything fully and truly to them.
Now though, another purpose was about to interfere with his progress. He must recover the artifact of his gods, the symbol of the Demonslayers. Once long ago placed at the southern gate of the city called Slayaria it generated an impenetrable sphere surrounding its entire expanse. It was the treachery of demons that stole away the symbol. Without it the Demonslayers, already outnumbered and hunted down until none lived beyond those walls, were vulnerable. The numbers of the horde of evil were vast beyond measure. Equaling, Krosten had guessed, every creature in the Abyss and earth that hated the Demonslayers. Demons, humanoid races of evil, and creatures of the fabled underworld, all attacked that fateful day. The Demonslayers fought well and a few managed to escape alive. He was the last elder and he was gathering the young. Now he had a chance to recover Slayaria’s pride.
The eight youngsters were still overwhelmed at being told that twelve years ago Demonslayer sympathizers had fostered them in. This information did seem to focus them a bit. This sounded more like a quest. None of them had been on more than one adventure, but adventuring they could understand. They’d each dreamed their entire lives to be famous adventurers. Now, Krosten put to them a challenge and spoke of honor, hope, and glory. They would indeed find the symbol of their lost people and take it no matter the risk, no matter the trial.
^ ^ ^
The stealthy half elf led the way through the tunnels back to the surface. Sevele knew the direction they were heading because of her affinity for Ara’moor. The opening under Jvar was inaccessible so they went north where the trickster mentioned an entrance that was guarded by Bealrotti. They knew that no guardians would remain. It still took time to find the entrance as it was well hidden. It lay shadowed in a cubby above the cavernous floor. Two huge tunnels came from the south and one smaller opening went north. The cavern bowled upwards and downwards as if it was once a water filled bubble in the earth. The hidden entrance led to a long stairway to the surface. Taking it they all relaxed greatly when the open sky was once again above them. None of them mentioned it while they were underground but the presence of so much earth above their heads was very disconcerting. Gathering their possessions they headed south to bargain with the wily Jvar.
With Graton hiding nearby but far enough that the mind peering trickster wouldn’t sense him, three confident companions entered the clearing once again. Darkon had tested his mindflow ability on the way out of the tunnels. He learned how far one could be from him before he could no longer reach their minds and found that when they were out of his direct sight they were out of mind’s reach entirely. Also he told his friends to picture only specific things in their minds to see if he could peer past the focal thought. That also he could not do. Only if he was allowed access could he get inside their minds. Or, when one was totally unaware of his attempts and their thoughts were unfocused he could glimpse deeper. Thus they found a base understanding of the abilities Jvar possessed and knew now how to avoid his seeing through their deceptions. Thinking only on the death of the great monster from the lake they would not only keep him unaware of their tricks but also possibly intimidate him with the knowledge that they had already slain one great beast.
As they entered the area monitored by Jvar they caught him unaware. He was half dozed and purring contentedly on his stone perch.
“Ho there, Jvar!” Darkon boomed, “We have returned and your balance is to be paid!”
Holding Graton’s original spear of ash wood and fine steel before him he tossed it point first into the ground just before Jvar's perch. Awake now, Jvar narrowed his sleepy eyes and looked without a word toward them all. Searching their thoughts he could only find the death of the creature of the lake. Raising up on all fours and stretching his powerful wings he seemed to consider taking his leave while he could. Perhaps he feared these newly confident creatures would decide he was fair game as well.
Warily he looked toward the spear before him. “You did not enter here with such an item so I must accept your word on its authenticity.”
Trying once again to reach the party’s thoughts he looked from one to the other hoping to find an opening. There was none.
“So dark one, you wish repayment and Jvar always pays his debts. To properly do so we will need to be alone, for our thoughts alone can break the barrier in your mind. Your friends may watch from beyond the clearing so as not to interfere and also if they would, prevent any other interruptions.” Jvar said.
Thinking on it for a moment Darkon found these to be reasonable requests and nodded at his two concerned friends. Though Galen trusted Jvar not at all and Sevele wanted to stay by his side, they acquiesced. They walked to just beyond the edge of the clearing. There they could still see he and Graton as well who was perched high in the limbs of a tall spruce. If Jvar did try anything unfriendly these three friends would be quick to stand at Darkon's side.
After a time of Jvar making his own mental preparations he began to instruct Darkon on how to do so as well. “Now, clear your thoughts, Darkon the Demonslayer. Clear it of all images and feelings and words. Clear it and bring only an empty, dark wholeness around yourself.”
On and on Jvar droned, boring the three watchers but bringing Darkon to a state of mind he’d never known. On and on he droned until the blackness did come. The emptiness around Darkon showed how he was truly one with everything and everything was one with him. Darkness then became a focal point on which he concentrated.
Seeing only darkness he heard Jvar say, “Now I stand before a barrier in your mind. Only you can open this barrier. I can guide you to the correct actions, the correct thoughts. You know who you are and have rediscovered much of your character and personality. Your mindflow has begun to reopen due to necessity. Now, all that remains is to recall what you are, why you are, who you should be and would have been. Open yourself to the darkness you perceive and know that it is not truly darkness at all. It is but one small fragment of the entire picture of
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