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[FN] Rising Shadow - A SpellForce Short Story

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“Under no circumstances!” Craig Un'Shallach shouted, stretched out his arm and pointed toward the obsidian-steel gate leading across the dark-grey bridge mounting the surrounding swamps.
“By Nor, you will regret this! You and your treacherous heritage! You cannot stop Sorvina and her shadows, sooner or later, Dragh’Lur will perish by their blades!” – As he said that, the messenger turned away and pulled a dark hood over his head.
While the gates closed behind him, the masses dispersed from the main square atop the sinister bulwark. The ones who remained were Craig, his advisor, Lachar, and his daughter, Nightsong. Their conversation continued hastily: “What are we to do? We cannot ignore them any longer?” – Lachar argued.
“I am well aware, but we are still too weak to hunt them down” – Craig explained – “Our brothers from Shal Dun will not support us in this battle, and Nazshar’s recent uprising crippled our ranks. May Nor damn him at the River of Souls… We need more time…”
“If Dragh’Lur falls, so does Shal, and then it's only a matter of time… The Shadows will cover all and none will be able to stop them. The orcs are scattered, the trolls dull and the light worshipers… they are a joke not even worth my tongue.”
“Do not underestimate the fighting spirit of the light worshipers, Lachar.” Craig replied and added “Although they are out brethren, we can fight Sorvina and her supporters, but it will be hard to deal with the Shadows themselves…” He started thinking out loud “I once knew someone who had it in her possession…”
Nightsong barged into the conversation “The Phoenix Bearer?”
“Yes, and her Shadow Ring, but out paths split after our last meeting in Empyria, I am unaware of her whereabouts… or whether or not she is still alive.”
“Should we search for her? I am ready to depa…” Nightsong got quickly interrupted by her father. “No, we need you here, I will send a search party for her, the three of us have to prepare for the inevitable. Lachar!”
“Yes, Dracon?”
“Send out a search party, and call for our generals, we have to prepare Dragh'Lur for what's to come, post-haste.
Lachar nodded his head in agreement and rushed through the portal to Shal to assemble the Norcaine forces. Craig and Nightsong were left standing atop the impregnable fortress, each engulfed in their own thoughts.
Silence permeated the thick fog.
Dragh’Lur was widely famous - or infamous, depending on who was asked - for its ability to repel all and any attackers headed its way. What the Bulwark was for the Clan, Dragh Lur was for the Norcaine, although arguably even more malevolent. Rumours have it that the fortress was built not only on-top of the corpses of their enemies, but also some of their own kin. Many would argue that the cruelty of the dark elves far outmatched the other races, but no outsider knows with certainty what is happening behind their metal towers and walls – no outsider dares to investigate further.
Of course, not all the Norcaine fell under such suspicions, Craig and his daughter, Nightsong, were among those, choosing to embrace the other races on Eo, rather than eschew them. In a secluded society such as their own, this wasn’t something their brethren were particularly fond of, but many have learned to respect – and in some instances, fear – the name Craig Un’Shallach. After all, he showed that he possessed to courage to go as far as to confront a mage of the Circle, not once, but twice – a feat no Norcaine on record could boast with.
Moreover, his past influenced his present, or rather, his daughters. The women of the Norcaine were a mystery in and of itself. Not even tasked with simple manual labour – the dark elves use Skergs for that – they were essentially relegated to a life of serving as tools for the Norcaine to propagate. A shame as well, as Dark Elven women were much stronger than their male counterparts, perhaps not in terms of sheer physical strength, but they all had innate talent for the dark arts – Black Magic. Thus, they were forbidden by their own people to practice such crafts – perhaps out of fear.
Notwithstanding such rules, there were Norcaine in the past who recognised this power and wished to expand on it, rather than keep it locked in secret. Nazshar was one of them. Having realised the potential in his wife, Sorvina, he strived to use that power, harness it and dominate over their race. And he would have succeeded were it not for Craig who, during a civil war, decisively put an end to his schemes. But the kill that ended one might be about to start another. After her husband was killed and she got captured, Sorvina was given a choice – the sword or the poison? – she chose the poison and prolonged her life, although only possible through her immense will and accompanied by great suffering.
Her burning rage refuses to let her die.
Ever since then, she seeks revenge for what they had done to her – for what they had done to her husband. And this hatred had also driven her to engage in a pact with the Shadows – dark beings from a foreign dimension – enemies of all life. She forced the shadows to submit to her terms by acquiring the Black Mirror and is now using it to manipulate their actions as she sees fit.
A part of the Norcaine had already been influenced by the Shadows, turning their hair white and eyes pale. Not even Nightsong was spared of their horror, however, she managed put a halt to the transformation before it reached its end. Now, Sorvina and her Pact march towards Dragh’Lur, poised to claim back what she believes was wrongfully taken from her. Behind her, the forces of the Norcaine and in their shadow – death.
Turmoil was slowly rising.
A few days had passed since the meeting atop Dragh’Lur. An ever-persisting fog was still encompassing the surrounding lands, the tension began to fester.
Craig and Nightsong spent their days training, sparing – but also talking. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide the gloomy and worried look written all over her face. It was very unlike her. Ever since she was a child, her father raised her to stand up for herself, to not submit to the regulations of their people just because she is a woman – a connection to Sorvina she hated to have, but a similarity, nonetheless.
She was still young, but no stranger to distant travels and battles. And even though she may look elegant, she was able to give most Norcaine men a good run for their money when it came to duels – a fact she had proven many times in the past. And yet, something about the upcoming battled was inexplicably intimidating to her. She wasn’t afraid of the fight, or afraid to give her life for the well being of her people, but she couldn’t shake this eerie feeling surrounding her on her every move. She took out a small notebook and started writing in it, making sure none of her brethren standing close to her were able to decipher what.
As she remained immersed in her writing, a white light shone behind her, revealing Lachar walking through it as it started to diminish. He paid little attention to her, scurrying past and heading straight to Craig. Nightsong was able to feel that something was off. As she approached the pair, now already well deep into their conversation, she stopped. Something told her that she should interrupt, but her curiosity got the better of her, and while pretending to be occupied with other tasks, she eavesdropped on them.
“So, the Archons refuse to lend their aid?” were the first words she heard, spoken by her father.
Her eyes widened and she clenched her fists.
Among the Norcaine, it was known that Archons and Dracon don’t share the best relations, even going so far as to spark minor conflicts in the past on account of that, but never could she have imagined them sitting idle in a situation like this. Could Sorvina have been behind this? Could she have already corrupted some of their leaders to aid her in her mission of vengeance? There was no way to be certain, but it seemed plausible to her, even to the point of heading to Shal herself to confront them. But despite the urge to openly show her frustration, she remained level-headed and continued to listen in.
“What happens now?” Lachar asked, exhibiting a slight tension in his voice.
Craig remained surprisingly calm, as if he had expected such a situation to occur.
“Now, we get ready for war!” He announced loud enough for the majority of the troops surrounding the upper echelons to hear it loud and clear. His voice rang out with spirit and courage, prompting everyone to take notice of what was about to be said.
As soon as he had the attention of his troops, he started giving out precise and rigorous orders; “Man the walls! Position the Blade Dancers in-front of the main gate!” – the sound of his voice was the sole one filling the air, everyone was following them without question.
As the preparations were nearing their end, Nightsong decided to walk up to him.
His thoughts were poised on the battle that he felt was about to commence. His gaze was directed onto the shadow rising from the swamps. Nightsong turned and tried making something out in the distance, but her eyes were met by a thick wall of impenetrable gloom. “This won’t be an easy fight.” Nightsong proclaimed and continued. “I’ve heard what Lachar told you about the Archons… weaklings, all of them. May Nor’s wrath fall upon them and d…” Her apparent monologue got interrupted by Craig’s hand being placed on her shoulder.
“It won’t be easy.” He confirmed her earlier statement and took a few deep breaths.
“Nightsong, you have to escape.”
As soon as she heard those words she twitched, pushed his hand away from his shoulder and turned her whole body towards him. “What?! Out of the question!” Her face started filling with anger towards her father for demanding such actions.
As she continued assaulting him with words, he answered by raising his voice enough to let her know he’s serious, but not to alarm any others.
“Daughter, let me explain first before throwing such tantrums.” He let out a deep sign and continued. “This is a fight we cannot win alone. The shadows have already infiltrated the lower levels of Dragh’Lur… it’s only a time until they reach us.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying, her face took on a petrified look and cold sweat started running down her back. She continued listening.
“The rest of the men and I are going to buy you time. You must sneak out of the fortress during the commotion and reach the portal to the Iron Fields. Seek the help of the Shaikan there and reach King Ulf in Sevenkeeps. The might of the Norcaine alone won’t be enough to drive away the Shadows.”
She couldn’t utter a word, but so many questions were racing through her mind. King Ulf? Seek help from Light worshipers? How could they achieve what the Norcaine failed to?
Craig was quick to notice the unrest of her expression and went ahead to reassure her.
“Do not worry, have faith in me and in Nor. The fighters of the Light are fiercer and bolder than the Norcaine give them credit for.” As he father’s words were clearing away her doubts, she was finally able to break out of her trance and ask a question.
“How will they trust me, a dark elf? If the shadows don’t cut me down before I reach the portal, the Light worshipers surely will!”
Craig reached around his neck and took off the silver necklace in the shape of a silver spider –a Symbol of their god Nor. He held it in front of Nightsong as she looked at it with great curiosity.
“Do you know what this is?” He asked her.
“The sigil of the Norcane, of course. But why are you showing me this?”
“This sigil has been passed down from Dracon to Dracon and serves to distinguish the rightful leaders of the Norcaine. When the time comes, I will give it to you. It should suffice as proof for your word.”
She continued to admire the shaped piece of silver until Craig secured it back on himself. “It’s night time, they will be here shortly. We have to get ready.”
Nightsong nodded and rushed to grab her gear. At the same time, Lachar joined Craig, both staring into the distance as the fog began to disperse.
“So, this is the end.” Lachar proclaimed, albeit a bit hesitantly.
Craig simply shook his head and corrected him. “No, this is only the beginning.”
As the fog became thinner and thinner, flames, began risin on the horizon. Lachar rushed to the main gates to support their defence there while Craig remained waiting, expecting Nightsong to return at any moment.
As the flames were moving closer and closer, the warriors of the Norcaine steadfastly stood their ground. However, as the fog disappeared completely, and the enemy troops came within reach, they were shocked by image they saw. The first rows of Sorvina’s forces weren’t dark elven warriors, there were women – molded by Sorvina into powerful sorceresses. The sight of this alone left most petrified. “Women in our ranks?” were just some of the words they began to murmur into their chins.
Through their history, women had never joined their armies in their conquest – not until Sorvina managed to accomplish that goal. Nightsong returned to her fathers side a few moments earlier and remained envious upon witnessing this sight. Sorvina managed to do what she tried achieving her whole life. But it wasn’t the time to let her emotions take over – it had begun.
The enemy forces stopped right in front of their walls and without any warning, they started crashing into them. Within moments the gates had been broken down and the slaughter began.
As their forces started storming the lower levels of Dragh’Lur, the shadows started coming out of their hiding places in the deep cracks inside the barriers. They ambushed the resisting dark elves, stabbing them in the back with their cold blades, running through them and crushing their ranks. I wasn’t long until they started creeping up towards the top, together with the rest of Sorvina’s troops. At the uppermost lever, Craig and Nightsong, together with their bodyguard, were already engaged in battle with stragglers that managed to break through their defences. The sound of clashing blades was filling the air. The ground underneath them started filling with blood, but they managed to resist the first waves.
In a short moment of peace, Craig turned to his daughter and, without saying a word, pushed his sigil in her hand. As she took it, he turned again and rushed to the edge of a platform, jumping down to support his troops and Lachar still fighting underneath them. She knew what she had to do. As soon as she threw one last look at the burning and death-soaked battlefield, she ran. She ran through a hidden path down the side of the fort and found herself surrounded by tall stone walls. Now, there was no going back.
As she continued dashing through the narrow corridors of the nearby hills, a loud scream pierced his ears – she knew what it meant. Slowing down once again rethink her father’s decision to send her away, she heard a loud screech penetrating the air above her, prompting her to lose her balance and trip on nearby tree-roots emerging out of the ground. As she found herself back on her feet, she noticed a bag with her personal belonging had fallen off of her, but she had no time to go back and retrieve it.
“I have to keep moving…” she told herself and continued trailing the path leading to the Iron Fields.
As the group of Sorvina’s mercenaries reached the place where she had tripped earlier, the were quick to notice the bag on the ground, but instead of picking it up, they merely trampled it under their feet, damaging and revealing its contents.
Among them was the book she had written in earlier that day – now almost completely ruined, laying open on a single page still legible, which read: “We were warriors. We were fighting for our freedom and the dignity of our people. We have lost… I am Nightsong. I will tell you about the last days of our greatest warrior. Craig Un’Shallach – my father…”
THE END
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