Ashes of Gandar: Book one of the Shadenkar Series: Shadenkar Series, #1

PROLOGUE

These lands were ruled by elves for millennia during the Age of the Shadenkar. Then the Under War came, when the orcs crawled from the depths. Orcish hordes clashed with elven settlements for hundreds of years, until the elven Arch Magus Thaendril used his magic to awaken the dormant volcano Thule. The decimation of this event was catastrophic, and continental in scale.

All of Aeldrin was affected in some way by this great mountain's death throes. Seas rose, lands split open, new rivers and valleys were created in the wake of this destruction. Much elven life was lost; much more orcish life was lost. The war that had raged for so long had been ended by an act of despair. With the Sundering of Thule, the elves retreated to their island outpost of Ael’Delar, and left these lands to the rising clans of human savages.

Thaendril was exiled for his part in the Sundering. Though many thought his deed to have been a necessity, the aftermath left a pain in the heart of every elf. War costs lives, this the elves knew, but the destruction of the land was a crime they could not forgive.

So, the mighty Thaendril wandered Aeldrin with nowhere to call home. He grew to hate himself for his actions and his elven brethren for making him bear witness to the lands he had tainted for the rest of eternity.  The orcish clans that survived were scattered and few in number. They retreated back into the mountains, and found themselves once again in conflict with their age old dwarven enemies. New homes were found in the vast dark underneath Aeldrin, and the orcish clans set about rebuilding their hordes, never letting future generations forget what the elves had done to them.

During this time, the orcs used their growing might to subjugate the goblins, hobgoblins, troglodytes and kobolds they encountered in the dark beneath. One orc clan, the Axeteeth, conquered the old dwarven kingdom of Garag Khul and have called that place their own ever since. The last few centuries have seen skirmish warfare between the Axeteeth, and the dwarven kingdom of Jorheim as the orcs seek to expand their empire with a ravenous new horde.

As the years turned to decades, the humans were creating small enclaves, then towns, then kingdoms in the absence of elven and orcish influence. Helios was the first true kingdom to emerge from the chaos of clan wars and intrigues. The city of Urntar is the heart and soul of this now great human ruled land. A vast city of learning and trade, Urntar never seems to sleep.

High King Haeroneus II rules Helios from his silver throne within this great city of Urntar, surrounded by his court of Princes representing each of the kingdoms major commerce families. The High King, being a devout follower of Krael's teachings, holds the God of Law and Justice as the true power of Helios.

To the south of Helios lay the ruined lands of Thule. This land never fully recovered from the devastation wrought by Thaendril, and has been nothing more than marauding bands of orcs, goblins, ogres and worse in the millennia since the Sundering. Some few human settlements arose here, despite the wasteland it has become, mostly populated by those who have nowhere else to call home. As a result, most towns found within Thule's borders will be ruled by whatever creature can hold onto such power.

Maurandrym is all that remains of the old elven kingdom of Eadrasil. These lands stood empty, but for the natural creatures within, for many centuries after the elves departed for Ael’Delar. Small clans of humans found protection amongst the ancient oaks from the depredations of orcish warbands within the last century, and have renamed the land. Three small towns have grown within the forests, and the city of Kildeen is a wonder to behold. Built near the centre of the vast forest, this city has been shaped by Druidic magic. No stone walls were raised, nor cobblestone streets. The city is an array of various styles of huts set around the greatest trees. The old man closed the tome, and sat back in his chair with a slight sigh. Looking to the fire to his right, he was entranced by the flame's dance.

Is it done, master?

The question came from a young man standing behind the elder.

Will you rest now?

Yes, Hadrin, I will rest.

Hadrin helped the elder man from his chair and guided him towards a bed in a corner of this small inn's bedroom. Once his master was asleep, the young man returned to the small table by his master's chair and picked up the tome, the cover read 'The Age of Dreams'. Hadrin opened it to the first page slowly so as to not damage the vellum or binding.

My lord's story begins in a town called Gandar.

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CHAPTER ONE

Dusk fell upon the farming village of Gandar, as folk hurried about to complete their business within the town before the sun had deprived them of all light. Lanterns were lit upon the many poles strewn along the one street that ran through the town, with the twenty buildings of Gandar built alongside the dirt road. The din of hundreds of voices dulled as local farmers packed up their wares to make the journey to their homes outside the village proper.

None in the village could have seen the three hundred orcs jogging towards the village from the east, nor could the sound of their footfalls be heard amid the low rumblings of hooves and cart wheels. Some dogs began to bark, giving a few seconds warning before the horde burst into full sprint down the main road.

Screams were heard, and the alarm was raised, but the orcs took full advantage of the element of surprise and began hacking about them with wicked blades.

Orcs filed into each building along the road in groups of ten, with the remaining hundred or so continuing the slaughter of farmers trying to leave the carnage in the village. More screams of the dying rang out from the buildings amidst the howls of orcs relishing the slaughter as they cut down many of the humans they came across.

Some brave few took up what weapons they had at hand to defend their children, but pitchforks and spades were no match for orcish spears and axes.

The fort set just outside the town to the south was roused to action by the watchmen upon its wooden gate as they heard the cacophony of orc howls mixed with the screaming populace. The regiment assigned to protect these lands from just such an occurrence mobilized as quickly as they could. They formed up outside of their little wooden barracks as the red glow of fires began to light the sky as the orc invaders set fire to Gandar’s buildings. Sixty heavily armed soldiers began a quick march to cover the two hundred yards to the first building at the south end of Gandar. They might have made the difference had they arrived to fend off the orcs, as they were trained warriors and would easily repel an average orc war band of this size. Some of the marching men turned their eyes to the sky as they heard the sound of great wings beating above them.

The silhouette of a beast of legends from children's bed time stories turned in the air as a great red dragon dove towards the soldiers.

There was a momentary silence as a ball of flame rolled from the creature’s mouth, illuminating the thing’s head to reveal its gaping maw and gleaming eyes. The soldiers had no time to scream as the fire rolled through them, leaving nothing in its wake but scorched earth and melted pieces of metal from the armor and weapons borne by the men.

The orcs stopped their slaughter then, instead taking the dragon’s fire as queue to gather the surviving villagers on the road. All but young women and children remaining were put to death within minutes, as the orcs began binding the feet and arms of those they let live. Suitable humans for the slave block were thrown across orc shoulders as the beasts ran south from the town into the night.

The dragon made three passes at the village of Gandar, spewing forth great balls of flame with each pass as it skimmed a few yards above the highest rooftop. Satisfied that no corner of the village below had escaped its hellish fire the dragon rose high in the air, disappearing into the black cloud of Gandar's destruction.

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The horses' hooves beat up small dust clouds from the road, miniature versions of the plumes of smoke that the beasts now raced towards. No words were spoken between the six riders as they galloped down the road towards the small village of Gandar. They had spotted the telltale orange glow on the horizon a few hours earlier, whilst camped along the road from a day of travel.

All weariness was forgotten when they realized this must be a large fire in the distance. The road rose up a slight hill as they drew closer to the town, and when the first horse reached the peak of the hill, it was halted momentarily.

By the beard of Aensgar, the whole town is on fire!  The dwarf cursed, and then drove spur to horse as his companions swept past him.

Thurdin, and Garret, check the south side of town for survivors. Zesaer and Ellyse, you take the east. Leopold will be west, and I shall take the north side.

The young man barked out his orders quickly as they rode down to the town, and the group of riders split into their assigned tasks.

Brae dismounted and made for the first building as all but his sister Ellyse rode past him. The paladin watched the young girl jump down from her horse and begin to follow him.

Why are you with me, Ellyse, you should be aiding Zesaer?  The paladin said, giving the girl a look of one who already knew the answer to his question.

I’d much rather put my trust in your hammer entering a burning village, Brae.  The girl glared at her brother as she spoke, quickly becoming tired of being ordered about like she was some underling.  Besides, I’m your little sister and not someone under your command.

This is why I didn’t want you to come along, Ellyse.

Brae strode to his sister then with a reddened face, stopping inches from the young girl as he spoke between clenched teeth.  We aren’t on a day trip, sister, this is real. Look about you, there is nothing but death here. If you ride with us then you do so under MY command, or not at all. Do you understand?

Ellyse dropped her head to look at the ground as her elder brother’s tone of anger struck her as hard as any blow of the hand ever could. The paladin sighed and cupped the young girl’s chin in his right hand as he lifted her head to look upon him as he continued to speak.

I’m sorry for my outburst, Ellyse. Please obey me in this, Zesaer is an accomplished mage and is probably the best among us for keeping you safe and sound.

Brae searched the girl’s eyes as he spoke, smiling as she nodded her agreement.  The paladin gave his sister a kiss on her brow, then ruffled her hair before pointing to where he had seen Zesaer last.  We will meet at the well when the search is complete.

The paladin watched his sister mount her horse and ride off to where the elf woman had left her own, tethered to the well. When Ellyse had dismounted and had run between the burning buildings, disappearing from sight, Brae turned his attention to his own search in the north end of town. His heart sank as he came across twisted death. Three bodies who appeared to have been climbing from a window in their home. Upon closer examination, Brae saw that the largest corpse had a large hole in the top of its skull as if a blow from a blunt weapon had struck it with some force.

Brae found much the same as he continued examining the buildings that he was able to access with the fire still raging in some. His jaw tightened as the hour drew on with each passing minute revealing more grisly evidence of an attack by a force of great numbers. No survivors could be found among the ruin of the large farming village. Whatever force was involved in this slaughter would feel the swift hand of justice, the paladin vowed silently to his god Krael.

Five of the six companions met at the well to share their discoveries in the various areas of the village barely an hour after they had begun their search. All of them bore troubled expressions as the invaders had killed indiscriminately, leaving corpses of men, women and even a few children to be found by those searching.

I count twenty-three dead; Brae. This village should have about seventy folk this time of year.  The dwarf Thurdin spoke to the young human. 

Garret found tracks heading south. Lots of them. He’s convinced they are orcs.  He spat the last word as if it were blasphemy.

The elf, Zesaer, opened her spell book upon the road and began to search through the pages as Ellyse delivered their report from the east.

We also found the tracks of many orcs coming in from the east of the village, though they did not return that way.

The human girl wore a face of sorrow, with eyes that had wept hard at the sight of over a score of dead strewn about the small village.

The west was no different from the east, milord.  Leopold announced, as the nearly seven feet tall, giant of a man rejoined his companions, his boisterous report startling Thurdin enough that he noticed Garret's hands upon his coin purse.  I found tracks leading into town, but not out of it.

Garret! This is NOT the time for your games, boy!  The little halfling's smile disappeared for a few seconds upon being admonished by his dwarven friend.

Brae stood still as stone in the middle of the road, as his companions revealed what they had found within the smoldering remains of Gandar.

They came from Thule then, not so surprising. There was a garrison here though you found no evidence of the soldiers among the dead?

The other five companions looked about in confusion for a few moments, before Leopold spoke.

I found nothing on the west side of town that would suggest any form of organized military force was present. None of the dead there were armed beyond pitchforks, knives and tools of their trades.

The others quickly agreed that they found no evidence of an armed force repelling this orc war band.

What happened to the garrison? There were to be sixty men-at-arms here.

Brae's face became more troubled as he spoke.  How does an orc war band dispatch an armed force of sixty men, and leave not even a scrap of armor behind? This smells of fell deeds. Dawn is here; let us quickly check the village once more. Meet back here in fifteen minutes, ready to head south.

The group split up to conduct another search of the town in the light of the morning. Garret was the first to sound the alarm, summoning the others with a whistle. Brae was the last to arrive at the location the halfling had found.

You know, I haven't seen all that much really. I mean, by comparison, Thurdin here is a grandpa. I did meet a dragon once though. Did I ever tell you that story?

Garret!  Thurdin bellowed at the Halfling.

Cease your prattling!

Are you telling us this was a dragon, Garret?

Ellyse walked through the scorched, cinders of earth.

I think we found the garrison, Brae.

The others looked towards Ellyse, and saw she had a strip of chain mail armor on the tip of her bow, blackened and half melted from some great burst of heat.

Dragons in Helios, no one has seen a dragon in these lands for decades. We must return to Urntar, and inform the temple at once. The Lord Templar will know what action is best to take, and inform the King of these evil doings.  Leopold said this as if it were automatically known to be the obvious choice of action.

Thurdin spoke almost immediately in response.  We must follow the war band’s tracks, before they grow cold. We can't let their foul scent out of our range, or we will never find them.

Thurdin is right, Leopold, we must continue south, and find this war band. Zesaer, is there anything you can do to get a message of what happened here to Lord Templar Olanthus in Urntar?

Brae turned to Zesaer, hoping she would have some trick