The Sacred Woods of Silvernarion (Book 1)

The Power of Deceit

It has been two days since his master constructed this magnificent tower on the highest mountains the land has to offer. Maer’Dan rubs his eyes as he intensively memorizes spells in thie arts of alteration, restoration, and mysticism. His fascination in his master’s studies has made him tired. He stands up to look at the many trophies his master owns. Of the grandest and most prized trophies are the many demon skulls representing his defeats defending his race.

He knows his master will soon hang his trophies when he gains conscience again. Although the war is lost, Torak the black wizard will be known to be the only one who has survived them and have the recognition of defeating some of the vilest demons to have ever existed. It will be known only in his head as the final chapter of the existence of the dark elfin civilization. On a high arched stand levitates a crystal ball near a towers window.

It suddenly flashes as the red robed magican walks to it curiously. He begins to wave his hands over it as the black clouds alternate in unison inside. He knows that the globe is the eyes of the black wizard. If only he knew how to use its magical properties as he stares into it more intensely.

He then wonders if he besides his master is truly the last of what exists of the dark elfin race. The clouds begin to spiral quickly inside the crystal ball as if it heard silently the magician’s thoughts. The clouds disappear suddenly revealing a dark elf holding a gargoyle mask. Next to him is a younger elf sitting and looking out the window.

“Ald’Seran and his son Sald’Morack,” he murmurs fascinated at the powers the magical ball possesses.

He scowls disappointed that he must now kill not only his master but a legendary warrior and his pathetic apprentice son to attain power to rule the lands. He walks back and forth in the room as he thinks of how to resolve the problem quickly. After a moment his thin lips move upwards revealing an evil grin before hurrying down the towers stairs to check up on his master.

Approaching the bed he sees that his master has not moved in two days still resting and trying to recover his strength. Grabbing his staff he walks back up the stairs towards the magical crystal ball. He puts his hand on it and closes his eyes. After a moment of concentration he chants quickly casting a teleportation spell. Appearing at the front gates of the stronghold he hobbles towards it as two guards hiss at the newcomer yet allow him to pass. Many cutthroats, rogues, and outlaws pay no mind at the hobgoblin who hobbles further towards the shouting arena.

An ogre pounds his hammer on some raw steel grunting at the disfigured creature that enters the front gates of the huge stadium. A one armed man points up the stairs as Maer’Dan grunts and hobbles up them. He doesn’t want to reveal his real form as of yet. His task must come to surprise in order to silence the ancient dark elfin warrior and his apprentice son.

He sits next to a scarred and burned heavyset man who is digging deep into his wide nostril with a dirty and stumpy finger. Paying no mind of who suddenly sits next to him, he looks blankly down at the arena digger deeper into his nose. A part of the crowd cheers as others complain for waiting so long for the next competition to begin.

Maer’Dan waits patiently from above the highest rows of the arena as finally a gray bearded robbed human leads a gargoyle masked person to the front row seats of the arena. He must change his form in order to use his magic, yet if so he would attract too much attention. There must be another way to assassinate them. He taps his stubby claw on his chin, which is uncharactersitc for a hobgoblin to do.

He stands up and hobbles down stairs towards the gray wizard. A bench provides a spot to sit next to the old man. Altium looks annoyed at the hobgoblin that suddenly sits and grunts to greet him.
“Be gone foul beast this seat is not for your liking,” he says in hobgoblin dialect.

“I believe my company will be of much use to you,” Maer’Dan replies back in hobgoblish.

Sald’Morack looks at the hobgoblin narrowing his eyes. Maer’Dan pays no mind at the young dark elf knowing he must persuade the wizard to follow him.

“I will leave as you wish wizard, yet I have something that maybe of great interest,” he says before standing back up and hobbling back up the stairs.

Altium looks at Sald’Morack who disregards the hobgoblin and shifts his attention to his father who enters the arena slowly. The announcer scowls as the masked figure stands in the middle of the stadium laying his hand on the hilt of his odd weapon.

“Beasts and burden, cutthroats and outlaws, at last the Silver King returns ready to challenge his newest opponent!” the announcer screams.

The crowd cheers as the announcer presses his lips frustrated that the elf still lives.

“I am sure the hobgoblin is nothing more then another messenger for the champion Minotaur Morash,” Altium says in dark elfish before standing up and walking up the many stairs.

Sald’Morack only nods his head and continues to stare at the arena looking at his father wait patiently for his next opponent. Altium stands in front of the hobgoblin that looks up and gives a small grunt.

“You better have good reasons or your life will be ended immediately,” Altium threatens.

The heavyset grotesque human sitting next to Maer’Dan stops digging in his nose and looks at the wizard. He then stands quickly and walks away.

“Sit down wise human and I shall explain,” Maer’Dan says in hobgoblish.

“I prefer to stand beast,” the wizard says quickly losing his patience.

“Very well human, my name is Maer’Dan and I am a dark elfin magician.”

Altium looks at the hobgoblin and begins to chuckle before his face gets serious. He then waves his hand casting a small spell to see if it is true. Instantly he senses that magic is in use and a faint red aura is surrounding the hobgoblin. The disguise of the hobgoblin is revealed as he looks at the dark purplish skin and face of a dark elf before the spell wears out showing the ghastly beast of a hobgoblin.

“Interesting,” Altium says rubbing his grey beard.

“I hardly expected to meet another dark elf who survived the demon war,” he says now sitting next to Maer’Dan.

“What could you hardly offer me that these dark elves already can?” Altium asks after a long stare into the hobgoblin’s beady eyes.

Maer’Dan snorts and grunts at the question.

“Sald’Morack’s wisdom in the dark arts are nothing compared to what knowledge I possess and I hardly expect Ald’Seran will offer anything that is of any use to you wise human wizard,” Maer’Dan replies.

“So you know of who I serve,” Altium replies surprised.
Maer’Dan snorts and grunts again.

“They are nothing but cowards who fled our last war against demons. I am sure you don’t wish to serve cowards wise wizard. You humans only live for a brief period on these lands. You need quick knowledge of our ancestories secrets in the ways of dark magic.

I offer you this now if you wish. I may even grant you an audience to a grand wizard who has many victories under his belt against the most vilest and dangerous demons unimaginable. He may even know how to prolong your mortal life if you wish,” Maer’Dan offers shrewdly.

Altium eyes brighten thinking of meeting a grand dark elfin wizard and the thought of the possibilities or prolonging his life.
“I see I have actually aroused your interests human,” Maer’Dan snorts.

Altium stops grinning at the possibilities and grabs the hobgoblins arm staring into his beady eyes.

“I sense you seek something in return,” he says as Maer’Dan grins back.

“You will know soon enough human. You will know soon enough,” Maer’Dan repeats slowly shedding an evil grin.

Altium looks oddly at the hobgoblin not sure of what he means.
“For now speak nothing of my presence and continue to serve the two dark elfin cowards. You will know when I need your assistance,”Maer’Dan says after a long silence.

He stands up hobbling down stairs and out of the arena. Altium slowly stands up and walks down towards Sald’Morack. He thinks hard. Can he trust the dark elf and what he says or should he tell Ald’Seran of his encounter? If he did this, he may bypass a opportunity to learn the secrets of dark elfin magic, or even the chance to meet a dark elfin grand wizard.

He sits next to Sald’Morack who chooses not to acknowledge him. He narrows his eyes as the young dark elf continues to stare into the arena. The crowd cheers loud as they see a dead cyclope lying on the ground panting its last breath. Ald’Seran takes out of the cyclope’s throat his weapon and walks away as it finally slumps over.

The announcer scowls as he looks at the masked warrior staring up at him. Sald’Morack yawns before looking at Altium.

“What is of this hobgoblin,” he asks.

Altium looks at him and then back at the arena staring at the huge dead cyclope.

“I have discarded him for wasting my time,” he replies.

Sald’Morack grins and looks also back at the arena.

“If it was me, every surface dweller should be discarded including weak and old human wizards,” he replies.

Altium contains his anger and tries to ignore the young dark elfin magician’s arrogance. Soon Sald’Morack will swallow his words when he gains the knowledge of dark elfin magic and exceeds in his skills.

Soon there will be a day when he will silence the coward. He then turns his face to smile faintly. Sald’Morack doesn’t acknowledge as he looks at his father standing patiently for his next opponent.