On The Thread of Chance

The walls of Highroth had fallen. The battalions wiped from existence, farmers and their sons torn to pieces by the giants. Burned, scolded, vexed and tortured by the battle magi that didn't fall in the first wave. The rest of Highroth were collected as bounty. Food for Grevatar, some who possessed minimal magic resistence, taken as slaves for Thanious. The royal guard remained, holding back advancements on the castle gates, The king of the north somewhere deep inside. Teller was clubbed off of the dragon he hijacked, and lost in the horde. Renzel remained in the clouds, observing destruction on Aldridge's back. The griffin was beginning to tire and needed to perch soon. The war ship loomed over the battlefield, protected by many magi and a heavy ward.

'If I can get within the structure, I might be able to slay their general and end this madness.'

But even Aldridge knew this to be impossible and had fought advancement on the ship after the third attempt. When a fireblast seered his tail feathers.

The griffin began to flutter and bob, squaking for long needed relief. Renzel's mind swam, and then he remembered what Teller had said to him those times.

'You just may become the stuff of legends Master Mock'

Renzel's heart wept, for in this frantic journey, Teller had proved to be a true friend.

He glanced to his side, the staff he had yet to use gleamed in the absence of sun. The gem shifting to and fro. Purple and black. The power of the Hollow irradiating. Teller had told him the key to winning this.

"The key to besting a battle mage is power, not stealth."

Aldridge squaked for relief once more. Thus Renzel decided.

"Let's find out how this unfolds my dear friend."

Aldridge crested above the war ship hidden by the dark clouds of battle. The ward protecting the ship glowed a dim green. At this moment Renzel Mock decided to do a very brave thing. putting his hand to the staff of souls, He leapt from Aldrige's saddle. Down he went, soaring low and fierce, staff at his side, and that's when he spoke.

"I do this for Highroth and it's people, I do this for the villages of innocents that have been destroyed by you all. I do this for Teller and Alverna, her father and brother. I do this for Thanious and Ferin."

Renzel approached the warship fast, nobody looking upward for an attack when all around them was ruin. The mage flipped around feet first and came barreling like a thunderbird. Staff raised above his head.

"I do this for the justice of the land!"

Renzel Mock slammed the ward like a boulder down a mountain pass, and when his staff connected, the ward shattered. Sending the magi flinging. It did not stop his descent however, for the staff was a great thing. And that day, high above the sands of the badlands and the meadows of Cycsteria. Far beyond the bleak falls mountains. In the snowy blood drenched fields of Highroth. A legendary feat had happened.

Renzel Mock had breached into the second floor of the ship. In fact, into a group of unsuspecting war magi. They threw up wards and one cast a ball of hellfire but Renzel was too quick. He swung his staff, shattering wards and sending bodies flying through the hull. The fire ball ricocheted into a cuppard of ale. Exploding into flames. More magi advanced upon him from all directions. Some from the deck, others from down below. When the stairs became crowded, battle magi burst through the floor and ceiling above. Still Renzel continued to swing, running along walls and circling the group. When finally he saw an opening in the center of the room. With a great leap he landed and sent a blast charm onward. "Clovrine Stupenda!" using Teller's charm seemed appropriate. With a loud crack, water tidaled from his staff, rushing in every direction but his. Drowning and battering the magi, until all that remained was Renzel himself.

With a large leap that only Elves and Magi can do, Renzel emerged through his entrance hole and onto the deck. Sails had fallen from the descending massive shards of the ships ward. Lifeless bodies lay strewn across the debri. Fire of many shapes whipped from all angles. Renzel looked out beyond the field and saw the giants still plundering in the city. Failure crept across his being. But then a voice emerged behind him.

"Well, it looks as though some sneaky little rat has gotten himself a new toy."

Renzel turned around to find Calprey eyeing his staff. He was dressed in a stiff black uniform with red linings upon his shoulders, the uniform of a general.

"What are you doing dressed like that?"

"Oh this? The council deemed it appropriate to appoint me this rank for the years of my service as a reaver. Tell me Renzel, how is it a mix breed mut like you came to be? Your mother was a mortal after all. Your father a pure blood. How is it you posses such unique talents?"

Renzel raised an eyebrow, never considering it until just that moment. He shook it off and stiffened.

"Now's not the time to speak of such things."

Calprey grinned, reaching into his pocket, the general produced a thin silver ring, green with an evil aura. An aura that couldn't be mistaken.

Renzel's eyes widened.

"Those are forbidde-"

"Yes yes, Dydairians are forbidden. But do you remember why Renzel?" I taught you this during your studies."

Renzel's face sterned.

"Because they feed off of the soul of their wearers to amplify the wearer's abilities."

Calprey pulled out a sleek ivory short sword. A general's honor weapon.

"It also eats the souls of those the wearer kills."

Renzel took his stance and pushed all of his power into weilding the staff, the gem surged and the air cracked and fizzed. Calprey began to shift and grow in size calling forth his abyssal form. Claws began to form from his feet, his eyes sunk back into nothingness. Sharp teeth gritted from an extending snout. The ring fell away inside of him, remerging as a collar around his neck. His full form in view. A hellhound.

Renzel had never summoned his true abyssal form, it would take hours or even days to gain the demon's trust that slumbered deep within him. So he braced himself and put on a brave face. With a quick slide of the foot, Renzel smashed his staff into the deck, the wood cracked like lightening and barreled toward the hound, the canine dodged to it's right and made as a bolt closing fast. Renzel closed his eyes and prepared for his end. The hound opened it's jaws wide. Calprey laughed a wicked thing from deep inside the abyssal plane, as the hound reached Renzel to end where their fates had brought them... Something unexpected happened.

An arrow, one of great craftsmenship and power, surged through the hounds eye. With a loud wail the demon flung itself about. Calprey screamed in failure, the demon retreated inside. Leaving the general alive on the deck of the warship. Being bled dry by his ring. His skin pale and eyes darkening, he looked toward Renzel.

"H-how did you do that?!"

Renzel shook his head and fell on his rump to the deck as well.

"Honestly I wish I could take credit, it wasn't me."

The Magi turned toward the mountains, from the mist rode a figure. Accompanied by hundreds more. All in white robes. Staffs and swords gleamed bright from their backs. Clouds of silent arrows began to soar high and fast toward Highroth. Half of the battlion broke free and charged the broken city walls. The other advanced on the falling, tattered warship. Calprey and Renzel watched as the unknown soldiers brought down two giants in the distance.

It wasn't until Aldridge flew from his hidden perch to greet the leader, that Renzel understood. Teller the Wise. Had survived his fall from high and returned to battle with an order of white magi.

Calprey grimaced, he removed his ring and stood. Renzel was so captivated the he didn't notice the atmosphere shift, he didnt hear the air crack. No sooner, did the hound's jaws close in around Renzel, he was wisped away like a memory. Teller stood upon Aldridge's back. Holding one end of Renzel's staff as they flew to the mountains. Renzel looked up and grinned.

"Took you long enough!"

Teller shook his head.

"These things take time Master Mock! I apologize for planting the thought of me perishing. But you see. I had to make sure the willow order was still serving a mission in the mountains! Thankfully I arrived a day before their departure."

"What kind of mission?"

Teller shook his head, "This I do not know, they are not of my order. I serve Primoric."

Higher and higher they flew, over the battlements and up the incline of the mountain's foothills, the forests dissipated beneath them and gave way to snow and rock, but yet higher even they flew, cresting the clouds that hugged the crook spire peaks, Teller let go of Renzel's staff and dropped him onto what seemed to be a cloud. Renzel gasped when he realized that the cloud was no such thing, but instead the largest griffin he had ever seen, Teller yelled toward him.

"That is Aldridge's mother! Ava!"

The Elder griffin glided as if it was of the air itself.

Renzel ascended to Teller, "where are we heading!"

Teller mused him and pulled his cloak from his head.

"There!"

Below them, hidden by the mist was a large kingdom nearly the size of Thanious. Ivy green blazed upward upon it's three vibrant towers, and lanterns lit each window. For the mist created a constant twilight there. Stone houses and cobble streets came into view, moss grew all over, even in the highest of places. The kingdom was set upon the mountain side in three plateaus all connected one after the other with large, bewildering steps.

The magi landed at the entrance on the lowest of the three plateaus and were greeted by very tall guards. Who took the griffins to their stables. Renzel's eyes widened.

"Is this... The Home of the crook spire Elves?"

Teller nodded as they walked.

"The Elves have taken to calling it the kingdom of many, for it's not just Elves here Master Mock."

Renzel turned.

"Who else resides here?"

"Master Mock, High Elves have employed hob-goblins, small chubby fellows, to craft their wares and service them as the help if necessary. As well, the city guard rests heavily on the services of the mountains other inhabitants such as goatmen. Or rather, dwarfed centaurs."

Renzel cocked an eyebrow.

"Dwarfed centaurs?"

"Oh my yes, it's the mountain air. It's less potent. Causes all sorts of birth defects among centaurs, nasty business."

The magi walked for ages through the streets and up the steps to new levels of the city, with more sites that needed explanation. Eventually they came to a large pine cottage that sat awkwardly out of place among all of the stone structures.

"Welcome to the Oaken Way Inn. Home of the greatest duck dumplings in the north, as well as the town drunk and story teller, Reenius Veebes."

Teller had his arms wide in front of the cottage, as if he were presenting Renzel with a priceless piece of artwork.

"Great, lets eat."

Renzel limped by Teller, to weary from the battle to maintain a jolly demeanor, Teller however was smitten, as if the events at Highroth never took place.

The white mage cocked an eyebrow and smelled the odor Renzel misted with a cringe, as if he was a walking corpse.

"Perhaps we should bathe, and sleep, tomorrow we have a meeting with the king of the peak, Lord Stailien."

Renzel stopped with his hand on the knob to the cottage and turned.

"Teller, who are you exactly? How do you know these lords of the North?"

Teller chuckled and put a hand on the other door, opening it for his companion.

"I told you Master Mock, Ferin Lazarus employs me. I'm just a mild mannered spirit walker."