Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Chapter 27: New Alliances

"And every child of Hagen will stand together;

United against the common foe, the Dark Enemy.

All differences will fade, all angers will cool,

And all passions and purpose will become One:

The defeat of the Ancient Enemy, the Hated Horde

And the downfall of their Master, Mayhem Incarnate.

Even the Dark One, Deceiver of All, Enemy to the Maker."

- from the Norak Utterance, Ninth Stanza

It appeared out of the gloom, moving carefully as if ancient of bone and sinew, and tired in muscle and tissue, making its way through the rubble that lined the northern edge of the courtyard. There it paused a moment, leaning against a shattered column like a man, using a massive arm to hold it up as if for a rest. But it was there any and all resemblance to an elf, or any other mortal race ceased.

Covered from head to toe in thick, reddish brown hair, it was easily three times the height of any elf, Lithosin included. Its arms were twice as long as its relatively short and stubby legs and powerfully muscular, ending in broad, spatulate hands that resembled an ape's more than a man's. They were connected to heavy shoulders, hunched and thick and as broad as a wagon.

But it was the face least like a man's, brutish and ugly, with a heavy brow and piggish eyes, small and full of malevolence. It took only one look to determine this beast wasn't meant to walk in the light. The decapitated corpse of what used to be an elf clutched beneath its free arm only confirmed its attitude, along with the gore dripping from its yellowed fangs.

<<Maker preserve us,>> Halen husked in disbelief.

<<What is it?>> Nakana repeated, a muscle in her jaw jumping as she strung her bow as swiftly and silently as all her skill could manage. Beside her, Kaelin and Chaendra were doing the same, their faces determined as they worked with chilled fingers to get their woven bowstrings in place.

"Wendigo,"  the cleric named it in a hoarse voice, his eyes wide as they watched the beast push away from the column and twist to take hold of the body beneath its arm before lifting it to its mouth to take a ripping bite of the torn flesh.

<<A dark soldier bred in the pits of the Crimson Empire to be without conscience or remorse, with only one purpose: to destroy!>>

<<Nice,>> Ciramax hissed as he yanked free a second hand axe from his belt. <<Something the Cleansing missed. Now that we know where it's from and what it does, ...>> He turned to stare hard at Halen. <<Best tell us how to kill the damn thing.>>

Before Halen could reply, however, the wendigo threw the body to an already slaughter-covered ground, a score of bodies now visible around its feet, and reached behind the column to take hold of something. And, as she screamed thinly in terror, it lifted an elven woman into view, her clothing tattered and torn and bared its bloody fangs. There was no doubt what the beast intended doing to her.

<<I think not!>> Ciramax snarled as Xanedra and Elis pulled their swords free with twin growls. Behind them bowstrings went taut with a soft hum as Chaendra, Nakana and Kaelin drew and aimed along the shaft of their arrows.

Despite their intentions, however, the Aquilans wouldn't get the chance to attack. Even as they coiled themselves in preparation, a swirl of motion appeared at the edge of the courtyard and darted forward, resolving itself into a cloud of dancing motes of light as it drew close. Amazed by the cloud's sudden appearance, the Eagle clan elves fell back and watched as the cloud enveloped the wendigo in a storm of brilliant golden energy.