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ORDER & CHAOS pt. 15

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Posted 06-07-2009 at 08:05 PM by Goth Writer
Updated 06-11-2009 at 09:40 PM by Goth Writer (It's a work in progress...)

The goblins and orcs guided their Lykanthros away from the resistant militia and crested the hill from whence they came. Thorgrym looked at his companions with concern.
“We have fought valiantly, My Friends,” he said. “We are obliged to inform Siegemunde of the growing rancor of the Stalactite Orcs and Goblins. The lich folk are bound to respond to these continuing invasions.”
The gathering of warriors marched on until they reached the outskirts of Lich Town. Several of Thorgrym’s Guards waited on the lookout from the surrounding hills. They hailed the return of their Chief and Sentinel Mages.
“Its good that you have returned to us, Thorgrym,” said one of the soldiers. “The air has changed since you ventured through the spatial portal Siegemunde generated in the Martial Academy. Word has spread that Guardon and Ankharet have been brought down from their reign of terror. Continue within and consult with the Director of our modest Academy.”
“You have our thanks, Einar. I look forward to returning to my post among you valiant guards,” replied Thorgrym.
The travelers marched through the bound, post gates and entered the marketplace of the lich folk. Jalhi observed that the ghoul trolls acted in a more sociable manner compared to their reticence during her first visit.
“Your kindred are more watchful of us, Leif,” observed the Leader of the anthromorph rangers. “They were remarkably shy the first time my amazons were here.”
“It is to be expected, Tiger Woman. Our races have warred with one another for many generations. It has only been until recently that external stresses brought our resources together. The lich folk have always been a reclusive people. We are a race created as a response to war.”
“In many ways that has been the case for we stone trolls, too, My Friend,” said Fangoz. “It has been a benefit to the various peoples of the Ghastly Fens that we have achieved a modecum of truce in recent years. I admire the work it took to construct this battle haven. You lich trolls are industrious and organized, more than Cara and I were aware in past seasons.”
The warriors strode beyond the marketplace and assorted homes, built on stilts above the soggy earth. They stood before the great elevator at the foot of the Martial Academy. It took several trips to lift all of the fighters to the network of platforms above. The horses brought by the Gaeans during their first visit ate grain and hay in a collection of stables.
Sigrid guided the visitors up the stairs and flexible bridges to the Conference Chamber of the Academy. Siegemunde waited impatiently at his desk at the base of the multi-leveled classroom.
“Greetings, My Friends. I am overjoyed that you have returned to the Academy safely. You have showed up just in time. I was making the final preparations for an Integration Ritual. You have the opportunity to witness firsthand the creation of a new group of lich trolls. It is a process like no other in all of Gaea.”
“We are intrigued,” declared Satvinder. “The events that have recently occurred beckon the consideration of we rangers in regard to our traditional approach to the neighboring races to our hunting grounds. At times the tiger people have been hostile to the other groups living in the swamp for fear of losing game and territory. Now that continued invasions issuing from the Abyssal Cairn are eminent, it will be beneficial for us to observe your Integration Ritual.”
“Very well, Satvinder of the Bengal Clan,” answered Siegemunde. “You are welcome to accompany us to the center of Lich Town. The compounds necessary are already in place.”
The warriors joined the Director of the Martial Academy as he marched to the elevator. They descended to the ground floor. The lich folk had assembled in the expectation of the seasonal process. The farmers and workers from the marketplace gathered around a wide, circular molding pool.
Siegemunde addressed the gathering of lich trolls as he straightened his Sentinel raiment.
“Greetings, Lich Acolytes. I return to this place again to act on the behalf of Restadicus and the Lore Masters of Coermantyr Castle. The time has come to again combine the elemental substances of earth to create a new batch of ghoul trolls.”
The Administrator of the Martial Academy raised his hands over the pool and uttered a molding spell.
“Forgex!”
The broad pool glowed red with arcane energy. Two primordial, humanoid forms rose from the bubbling meniscus.
“Let two become one!”
The shapes merged into a small being. A lich troll couple stepped forward and took the young member of their clan into a blanket. Siegemunde repeated the process three more times, designating a set of waiting parents to raise and educate the child.
Satvinder met with the Director of the Academy as he withdrew from the molding pool before the stilted buildings.
“Good going, Sentinel Mage. I have never before witnessed such a process in the Fens. The war with the goblins and stone trolls brought about this sequence, it is clear to me now. The times are changing for all of us. An era of peace is tangible for the Regions of Gaea if we remain vigilant and steadfast in our defense of our respective races.”
“Thank you, Tiger Ranger. I appreciate your participation in our affairs. We yet need the help of you anthromorphs and our newfound ally, Fangoz. Word has spread quickly of the returning agents of the Harad Ghul. All of us are now guardians of the Realm.”
***
Gnoll and Alex traveled through the deep woods of Coermantyr. They were accompanied by a number of wood trolls who had joined the fray in the Throne Room of Guardon’s Spires. The old growth forest was thick with oak, spruce, ash and pine trees. Juniper and elm groves also stood sporadically among the tall canopy. The Bodyguard of the Wood Mage of Arborea addressed his mage friend.
“I’m glad that you opted to join us on our mission to return the Orb of Paryphax to Skjold’s Tower, Alex. My fellow wood trolls fought valiantly against the destructive magic of Themistokles, Ankharet’s Vizier. We were unable to stop him from assassinating Skjold and stealing his orb. Now that the spatial breach in the Gorgon Plane has been sealed by the seraphim, Smithforge, the opportunity is ripe to deliver the orb from its stone giant caretakers to its original location at the top of the Central Tower of the Arboreans.”
“It is a wise decision, Gnoll. Restadicus has granted me his permission to study your Region and the social workings therein. If at all possible I will help you wood trolls to restore order to your state and quell the movements of the goblins and Lykanthros who remain.”
“Very well, Wizard of Coermantyr,” answered Gnoll. “I expect that we have walked beyond the south-western border of your Region and into the edge of Arborea. We should near the Chief City of Arborea by nightfall. My people await the latest news of the events that have occurred between the planes.”
The warriors strode at a brisk pace through the brambles and underbrush. Only one of the two moons shone above the dusk forest. The cries of ospreys and owls echoed over the rolling hills and scattered boulders. Alex’s perception of opposing forces within the trees came to his attention.
“Beware, My Friends,” he said. “I sense the same aura that passed by us the last time we contended with the Lykanthros and their goblin cohorts.”
“Very well, Alex,” Gnoll replied.
The wood trolls drew their swords and prepared for battle. A dozen Lykanthros rushed through the trees with goblins and Stalactite Orcs at their saddles. Loki led the charge and did not stop to parlay with the fighters. He swung his scimitar at Gnoll who parried the attack with his longsword. The other Arborean soldiers met the clawing Lykanthros with their double-edged weapons. The goblins fought with aggression and sparks flew from the clashing steel. Loki struck a glancing blow to Gnoll’s shoulder armor. The sharp edge of the curved blade tore through the leather covering of his plate mail and left a shiny gash in the hardened metal. The melee continued for several moments until the wood trolls formed a ring with Alex at the center. The adept mage incanted an attack spell.
“Trentak!”
The red-haired sorcerer directed his outstretched hands at the mounted wolf creatures and their riders. He unleashed a volley of electric bolts at a high velocity. Three of the goblins were knocked unconscious from their saddles and two more guided their steeds erratically as their entire bodies became awash in a pattern of electric sparks. The wood trolls were heartened by the impressive attack of their ally from Coermantyr. They charged outward from their tightly locked ring and skewered six more of the goblins, causing the riderless Lykanthros to scamper to the deep woods in confusion.
Loki’s face exuded frustration from within his boar-toothed helm. He spoke in a booming voice to the surviving goblins and orcs.
“Move away, My Soldiers. Rauros is aware of the movement of these trolls. Let us return to the Abyssal Cairn and enter these woods again with our numbers in full effect.”
The Stalactite Orcs and their kindred turned the reins of their mounts away from the clustered Arboreans and galloped into the eastern horizon.
Alex spoke to his Arborean companions.
“We have fought valiantly here this night. I still possess the Orb of Paryphax. We must hasten to your main settlement before any other potential foes are given the chance to accost us.”
“That is sound advice, Alex,” Gnoll replied.
The warriors marched quickly through the underbrush. Gnoll was cheered to see the torches of the City of Arborea through the trees. The multi-leveled buildings were constructed of sealed wood. A handful of lookouts standing at their posts on the city walls cried out at the sight of the approaching adventurers.
The city gates were flung wide and an entourage of mounted soldiers rode out to the nearing fighters.
“Good evening, Fellow Wood Trolls! The movement of the goblins through these parts changed in the last week. No doubt it is in response to the success of our united forces in the Eastern Region. My name is Charles. Has Ankharet been destroyed?”
“Yes, Charles. I am Gnoll, one of Skjold’s Bodyguards. We hurried from Arborea in pursuit of the assassins of our Leader and ultimately avenged him in a neighboring plane. The maverick Summoners have been defeated and the detrimental breach to the Plane of Chaos sealed. The Lore Masters from Coermantyr and a team of seraph trolls from the Plane of Order proved to be of great benefit to the harmony of Gaea. My mage friend here is Alex. He carries the Orb of Paryphax that was taken from Skjold’s Tower. Inform the residents of the city that we will hold counsel tonight so that all may know of the dispersion of the invading Lykanthros and hostile goblins. We still have our work cut out for us, I’m afraid.”
Charles nodded to the red-haired wizard.
“Welcome, Alex. We are overjoyed that the orb of our late mage has been returned to us. You are welcome to enter our city and partake of our humble fare.”
“Thank you, Wood Guard,” replied Alex.
The travelers strode within the brightly lit reception area of the City of Arborea. The settlement was constructed out of lumber assembled via traditional carpentry. Other buildings were lofted in giant oaks, whose branches alone were large enough to support plank roads and walkways. Alex marveled at the ingenious architecture of the neighbors to his Home Region.
“This place fascinates me. I had no idea that so many people lived here.”
“Yes, Sorcerer. The wood trolls have thrived in this environment for countless generations. Our city was built in this fashion as a measure of protection during the past war with the stone trolls and marauding goblins. Alas, it was not enough to thwart the magical subterfuge of Themistokles and his Guild of Assassins.”
Charles spoke briefly with a group of pages.
“If you please, City Pages, have the residents that are able meet at the Council Hall. We will hold a meeting shortly so that the latest events that have transpired abroad can be disclosed to as many people as is possible at one time.”
The guards led Gnoll and his wood troll assistants to the hall in question. They stepped into a hoistable carriage attached to a system of pulleys. Charles turned a pair of handles connected to a crank, causing the vehicle to ascend into the branches of the massive oaks. The carriage approached an expansive deck built at the center of one of the trees. The vehicle bumped against the landing and the passengers stepped onto the hewn, wood floor.
Charles guided his companions around the deck to the far side of the tree where a series of ladders and walkways linked with a bowl-shaped Council Hall covered by a pillared gazebo. A sizable gathering of male and female wood trolls sat on the carved benches. At the bottom of the hall was a podium and table, both carved with the Arborean symbol, an osprey with wings stretched.
Gnoll walked to the base of the hall and addressed the audience in a booming voice.
“Salutations, Arboreans. My trolls and I have returned from our mission to retrieve Skjold’s Orb successfully. Ankharet and Themistokles have been destroyed and their portal to the Gorgon Plane obliterated.”
The wood trolls cheered and applauded.
“Alas, we are not magicians by trade and are hard-put to replace our fallen Leader. If I have your consent I will issue a petition to Restadicus in Coermantyr Castle requesting he send someone to fill the position.”
“That will not be necessary, Gnoll,” said Alex. “I offer my experience as a mage. The settlement here gives me a good impression. It is worth my while to study the Orb of Paryphax and assist in the monitoring of the forests.”
“Very well, Alex. You have our thanks. Do you Arboreans accept this proposal? Raise your hands.”
The vast majority of the wood trolls present lifted their hands.
“That solves it. Alex of Coermantyr shall be our new Wood Mage.”
The Arboreans clapped and cheered.
“Thank you all very much for giving me the opportunity to participate in the workings of your social infrastructure,” declared Alex. “The recent events that have taken place in the various Regions of Gaea merit all of our concern. Now the opportunity stands before us to view the phenomena transpiring between the planes with an increased degree of vigilance.”
The aspiring Mage of Coermantyr extended his hands in a gesture of acceptance.
“I will begin a sincere study of your tree civilization and follow the intentions of Skjold. The Orb of Paryphax is a powerful source of magical energy. The previous Wood Mage employed its cache of Ethereal Dynamism to monitor and encourage the growth of the trees of the deep forest, both old and young. The future stands bright on the horizon for Arborea. With the involvement of you wood trolls the settlements here can thrive in a manner yet more prosperous than that known in past ages. I will employ the fullest extent of my training under the guidance of Restadicus and the Lore Masters in Coermantyr Castle to enhance the quality of living in these forests. Thank you all again for your support.”
The wood trolls in the meeting hall clapped and hollered their approval of the establishment of Alex as their new Wood Mage.
A page returned and addressed the group.
“The Lykanthros are below! Stalactite Orcs and Goblins ride them. We must hasten to the defense of the settlement!”
Charles and Gnoll drew their weapons and sprinted from the Council Chamber. They used emergency rappel lines to quickly lower themselves to the ground level. Alex closed the Orb of Paryphax in a chest for safekeeping and secured the key to a chain around his neck. He hurried to the nearest rappel line.
The wolf creatures and their orc riders breached the city gates and engaged the wood trolls in the streets. Gnoll and Charles rushed into the fray, as did the other trolls who had attended the meeting.
Alex tapped the power of the Orb of Paryphax from above and incanted a potent sorcery.
“Levtos!”
The Wood Mage of Arborea gestured with his hands, causing the group of attackers to levitate in the air. He moved his arms in a turning motion, forcing the Lykanthros to make an about face. Alex then guided the floating attackers through the gates where they fled in bewilderment.
“Well done, Alex!” said Charles. “The Denizens of Arkadia continue to move against us. I think it wise for you and Gnoll to travel east and seek the counsel of Lord Taliesin. He will surely want to investigate the source of these ongoing invasions.”
“Very well, Charles. Thank you all for your support. That includes you, Gnoll,” declared Alex. “We should ride for Wood’s End.”
The red-haired sorcerer and Gnoll set forth to the east with an escort of wood trolls.
***
Bjorn Roundtree, Gearzon and The Watcher hiked through the hilled woodlands of Mystic Down. Each of the short humanoids was impressed by their recent adventure and they talked excitedly among themselves.
“Glad I am to be back once again in Mystic Down. Weary I grew of the isolated halls of Guardon’s Spires,” said The Watcher.
“A burden the aggressive gorgons and Lykanthros were to my research and penmanship. Changed the oaks have since I was imprisoned by the rampant spatial portals of the Dire Queen. It is refreshing to breath the air of the wold once again. Long yearned have I for the scent of the pines and flowers that prosper in this plane.”
The aged halfling walked with an added spring in his step. His posture was less stooped and he gazed about at the green foliage with interest.
“Watcher, it will do us good to visit Tinkerburg, the Home City of our gnome cousins. Before we do so I suggest we meet with my relative, Ben Frostberry, who lives in secrecy within these woods. He is an excellent baker. His pies are renowned within the halfling community. His food will provide us with added strength for the journey that lies ahead.”
“A good idea that is, Bjorn,” replied The Watcher. “How do you feel, Gearzon, about guiding us through your circuitous city?”
“It’s fine by me, My Friends. There’s always plenty of work to be done in Tinkerburg. The gnomes are perpetually industrious by nature.”
Gearzon and the halflings continued along their present course until they reached the straw-thatched home of Ben Frostberry. The aroma of strawberry and apple pies drifted from the chimney.
“A fine place, this is,” The Watcher observed.
The gray-haired halfling gazed with interest at the small house. It was completely surrounded by the thickest trees of the Forest of Mystic Down.
“Hello, Bjorn! I thought I heard someone approaching from inside. I just finished cooking and was about to take a stroll. Who are your companions?”
The bearded halfling shook hands cheerfully with the trio of visitors.
“The Watcher I am and glad to have returned to Mystic Down.”
“My name is Gearzon. I also have returned to Gaea after a stay in the Gorgon Plane. I was caught up in the agenda of Ankharet and Guardon but was convinced by Bjorn here to support his cause. I have offered to guide these halflings on a visit to Tinkerburg. You are welcome to accompany us, Ben.”
“Thanks, Gearzon. I’ll take you up on your invitation. It’s been a while since I’ve ventured out of this area of the forest and wouldn’t mind to visit the main city of our gnome cousins. There are always fascinating contraptions to behold in your workshops.”
“Before we depart take a moment to come inside and sample some of my baking. My pies are fresh today, coincidentally.”
The bearded halfling guided his nephew and friends into his home. They sat at the table in the central room and ate steaming slices of apple and strawberry pie.
“I’ll just collect a few items for the journey south. You fellows help yourselves, there’s plenty of food to spare in this neck of the woods.”
Ben rummaged through a trunk in the adjoining room.
“Thanks again, Uncle,” said Bjorn. “We should meet with the Mayor of Tinkerburg and inform him of the events that have taken place recently. The different races and magical persuasions of the Regions of Gaea have increased their conflict of late. The movements of the orcs and Lykanthros concern the gnomes as much as the rest of us.”
“That is sound advice, Bjorn,” Gearzon commented. “The gnomes have deterred many of the invading wolf creatures with their battlemechs and catapults. They and their goblin riders have continued to assail our city in increasing numbers over the past months.”
“Forward we look to disclosing the events that have taken place with your kindred, Gearzon,” said The Watcher. “Much have I revived since returning to these woods. Glad I will be to help you organize a defensive position among the gnomes. Ben Frostberry, are you ready to travel with us?”
“Yes, My Friends, my travel pack is filled. Let us embark on our journey to Tinkerburg. The south woods of Mystic Down are yet untamed and hold many surprises for unwary souls.”
The short humanoids marched from the clearing that contained Ben Frostberry’s house. The dense underbrush closed around them and the light of the afternoon sun shone through the overlying canopy in a series of broken rays.
The Watcher perceived the chittering of weasels and badgers in the dark reaches of the wood. The calls of falcons and pigeons emanated from the boughs of the oaks and pines. The quartet of explorers moved with precision through the unmarked thickets. They relied solely on animal trails and rows of polished stone demarcating seasonal brooks.
Gearzon observed that the distance between the trees became wider and the brambles grew scarce. The woods opened upon a hilly glen. A myriad of burrows pockmarked the grass-covered soil.
“Be careful, My Friends,” whispered Ben Frostberry. “These woods are proliferated by giant centipedes and nymphae. They are magical beings and do not enjoy the presence of humanoids or foreign creatures.”
A number of the serpentine creatures emerged from the gaping tunnels in the hills. They probed the ground and air with sensitive antennae. Gearzon, Bjorn and The Watcher remained out of the sight of the giant centipedes by crouching behind a stand of bushes.
“Look to the trees on those mounds,” hissed Ben Frostberry.
The others raised their gazes and watched the dextrous centipedes climb the rough trunks of the pines to the branches above. The shiny, segmented beings varied in color from maroon to green. They fed on smaller insects and rodents as they foraged throughout the clearing.
“We should travel along the perimeter of this opening. It will be for the best if we avoid detection by these giant centipedes entirely,” Ben whispered.
The grizened halfling glanced at the menacing creatures with an expression of apprehension.
“Wise advice, you speak, Sturdy Kin,” murmured The Watcher. “Continue a roundabout course we should for indeed slavering these centipedes appear.”
“Halt, Short Humanoids. This is hallowed land and will not tolerate defilement by thieves and rogues.”
A luminescent wood nymph hovered over the four travelers. Her body was humanoid, much like a petite troll woman. She bore a pair of broad wings from her back that resembled those of a moth or butterfly. Her ears were pointed and she had red hair. The female nymph carried a short lance in one hand and a round shield in the other.
“I am Deirdre. The nymphs and dryads of the wold have sensed heavy disturbances in the Dharmic Equilibrium. No doubt it is due to the reckless, magical tampering of you, City Dwellers. What business have you this far into the wilderness?”
“We are going to Tinkerburg, the city of my people,” Gearzon answered. “We mean you no ill intentions, Deirdre. There has been a growing conflict with sorcerers and orcs from Arkadia. We journey to bring word of the preternatural portals that they created between the planes.”
“That is to be expected, Gnome Engineer,” said the nymph. “My people have long been accustomed to the conflicts that arise from the various races of this and other planes. The Dharmic Equilibrium is frequently beset by challenges and disturbances by those who manifest these Realms in their dreams.”
“Manifest these Realms in dreams…that is strange. Explain your meaning to us, Lady Nymph, if you please,” responded Ben Frostberry.
“It has been known to a few of us in Gaea that we are simply an embodiment of challenges and wishes faced by a race of people called humans.”
“Humans? Deirdre, who are these people? More importantly where are they?” asked Ben Frostberry.
“They are residents of the spherical Plane of Earth. They live in cities, villages and wild lands. Humans are industrious. They range in social inclination from the athletic to the administrative, from the scientific to the romantic. In fact they are just as diverse in temperament as the various creatures that reside in the more proximal planes known to many wizards.”
“Is there any way they can help us in our struggle with the remaining Harad Ghul and Lykanthros?” Gearzon asked.
“I’m not sure,” answered the female nymph. “Some humans care more for the events that transpire in the dream world than others. It is clear that if we remain dedicated to our cause the opportunity for the humans’ concern for our fate will grow.”
“No other choice we have than but to continue on our quest and their support petition,” said The Watcher.
“Be careful, Humanoids,” declared Deirdre. “The centipedes have become wise to your presence and have rallied their kin from their tunnels in the soil. Prepare yourselves for battle. I’ll intercede when I can.”
The luminescent nymph gazed at the clearing in the forest with concern. The waves of silver and gold light surrounding her intensified. She flew to the canopy of the pines to get a better view.
The Watcher and Bjorn drew their slings and armed them with rounded stones. Gearzon forewent the option of a sling altogether and wielded a slingshot of his own fabrication. Ben drew a shiny dagger that functioned as a short sword for the halfling.
The giant centipedes had indeed become alerted to the presence of the travelers from the sound of their conversation with the nymph. They squirmed turbulently on the grassy hills in an angry conglomeration. As a unit they dropped from the trees and charged across the clearing. Several of them spat globs of green acid that burned the foliage before them.

(CONTINUED IN ORDER & CHAOS pt. 16)
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