The Chaos Blade - Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It had taken many months, but at long last Kelnozz and Darakor had tracked the black dragon to the hamlet of Valingden. A small farming community, it's one claim to fame was the dragon which raided the community from time to time. Now rumor had it that the dragon was slain by a small band of mighty adventurers.

Inquires throughout the village painted a gruesome tale. Three adventurers had set out for the dragon's laid. Two had returned. In addition to the standard gold and jewels of the dragons hoard they had also returned with a magnificent sword. The man who wielded it, Kromlin, had become the envy of every man in town and the subject of desire for every woman.

The very night of their returned the swords insidious magic worked upon him and led him to slay his remaining companion and the owners of the house they rested in. His crimes piled upon him and he fled into the wilderness to the north of town. None had dared follow him, believing his fight with the dragon had driven him mad. The townsfolk did rue the loss of his sword, however, for it might have come in handy to defend the town. From what no one could say, Valingden was only 2 days ride from Trillindad and thus well within their protection.

Kelnozz and Darakor set out at once, heading along the suggested course that Kromlin had taken. They were several weeks late, but that was the best lead they had been given for some time.

Darakor lowered his hood as they hiked through the tall grasses of plains. Small groups of trees dotted the landscape, but primarily it consisted of the tall grass swaying in the wind that came up to their chests. "I yearn for the day when I can go about without hiding my heritage," he muttered loudly. Every town they met he had to either have his hood about him or drink a magical potion that made him look a pale and sickly human.

"You and I will live long enough, my friend, that I pray that will happen," Kelnozz said with a faint smile. He too wished his apprentice could rid himself of disguise. His skill and his spirit were too good to remain hidden away from the world, no matter the nature of his race. Kelnozz has long become accustomed to the simple fact that in training and befriending Darakor, he had taken a major step in healing the wound left in him from his own father's murder by light elves. He still considered them dangerous enemies, but he acknowledged that perhaps someday they might be taught to see the error of their ways.

"It will be a good day," Darakor said, a strange light in his eyes. "Perhaps sooner then we think."

Kelnozz chuckled. "Aye, perhaps. We must always hope!"

Soon they came across the ridge that Kromlin had fallen off of not so long ago. Descending it nimbly they quickly discovered not one but two bodies. Both were desiccated and shrunken in on themselves, making it readily apparent that despite the length of time between discovery and death they had been drained dry of any liquid. Indeed, the weather alone seemed to be affecting them adversely, for the animals of the region gave them a wide birth.

Rain and time had made the orc's trail impossible to find, but Kelnozz felt certain only one direction made sense. "Trillindad," he said.

Darakor looked in the direction of the large city then back along the gully to the north west. "You sure? If the orcs have Cirithallion wouldn't they be taking it back to The Lost Lands, to return it to Mezarbolle?"

Kelnozz glanced to the northwest and pondered the idea. At length he said, "Was it an elf I would agree. Even a human perhaps, though they are often not so strong of will. But an orc? Nay, my friend. An orc would be overcome with visions of grandeur. He would seek only to better himself at the expense of anything and anyone around him."

Darakor's face remained impassive. "True enough, orcs are reliable and dependable in their lack of vision and single-mindedness."

Kelnozz chuckled, Darakor's upbringing had given him an expert firsthand opinion on many of the evil races throughout Viconia. "Let us be off, the ruins beneath Trillindad have been too long without a cleaning, methinks!"

Darakor shared Kelnozz's grin. At times like this he truly felt a connection to the dark skinned elf. The bond between them, though sometimes so minimal as to be non-existent, felt almost unbreakable at other times. It confused Darakor, for he had grown up amongst a people that knew no bonds. Light elves knew nothing of honor, friendship, or love. They knew only a semblance of duty and power. He had journeyed with Kelnozz for hundreds of years now and had only gotten close enough to understanding those alien values that he began to long for a closure to his own youth. Had he known Kelnozz's mind on the matter, he would have been struck at the irony of how alike they were in that aspect.

But combat he understood. Together he and Kelnozz formed an unstoppable pair. He grew quicker and faster over the years under the dark elf's tutelage and had begun to wonder recently if perhaps he had even progressed to the point of being Kelnozz's equal. A part of him even wondered if perhaps he was better. Regardless, when fighting side by side their kinship knew no bounds. Darakor only wished he had shared that relationship with his own father when he had apprenticed under him to be a wizard.

They set off then, moving at a steady jog towards Trillindad. It had taken many years for Darakor's stamina to match that of Kelnozz; the dark elf seemed tireless in any endeavor he undertook. His speed was legendary as well, something Darakor wondered, at times, if it was a holdover from his time spent in the company of those who had become Gods of Viconia. Until he was able to run beside the dark elf all night and all day, he too had considered it impossible.

They ran through the night, excited at the prospect of closing once again on their nimble prey. For an inanimate object, Cirithallion had proven most adept at avoiding them. As morning dawned they saw the sun rise behind the towers and walls of Trillindad. The city was not their destination, however. Instead, they angled off for a little known passage that Kelnozz had long ago discovered led into the abandoned dwarven mines beneath the city.

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Two of them were Humans, the third a halfling. Kelnozz mentally shook his head, wondering what they could possibly be doing underground. He drew his blades quietly and waited beside the passage for the group to pass him.

In a few moments, the adventurers walked right past them, and Kelnozz laid his swords on the shoulders of the rear one, a human wearing plate mail with a long sword sheathed at his side.

"Uh, guys..." The human said, stopping immediately and standing still.

"Would you be quiet, Owsley! You are already making enough noise to alert every creature down here of our presence!" The halfling said angrily.

The lead human, however, turned around to see what was happening. He wore no armor save a pair of pants and wielded no visible weapon.

"Fildo," He said calmly. "Shut up and turn around."

"What!" The halfling said, thoroughly irritated. "Oh..."

The halfling, Fildo, turned back around to the direction they had been heading, preparing to run for his life when he saw another figure standing where no one had been before. This one was the yang to Kelnozz's ying; a light elf.

"Who are you and what are you doing on dwarven property?" Kelnozz asked them, already certain they were more of a danger to themselves then to him.

"Who are we? Who are you!" Fildo said.

"Uh, Fildo, He has two swords at my neck," Owsley said rather matter-of-factly.

"Oh, right, so he does. Well, I am Fildo Burrfoot, expert treasure hunter."

The seemingly unarmed human spoke next, "Tarascus Focht."

"And I'm Owsley," The captive said at last.

"Good, now what are you doing down here?" Kelnozz asked.

"None of your damn business!" Fildo said angrily.

"We are looking for a family heirloom," Owsley said.

"Damnit, Owsley, you are breaking guild protocol! You will get thrown out for that!" Fildo lectured him.

"What manner of heirloom is this you seek?" Darakor asked, already wishing they had cut first and questioned later.

"A jeweled long sword," Tarascus said, throwing a disapproving glance at the halfling.

"Gods!" The halfling said, throwing his hands up in mid air, "That's right, just tell him everything! Don't you remember the guild master specifically telling us to keep quiet about this?"

"Are you from Trillindad?" Kelnozz asked.

"Of course we are, where else would we be from. I will have you know you are interfering with guild business, not one of the safer things to do, to be sure!" Fildo said, puffing out his chest.

"We seek the same thing," Kelnozz said matter-of-factly

"Well you can't have it, we came here first!" Fildo said impatiently.

"Fildo, let's be reasonable!" Owsley said, beginning to feel truly uncomfortable.

"Fools, it is no family heirloom, it is an artifact of immense evil power, it you possessed it you would be destroyed!" Kelnozz said.

"Ha! According to my sources it is simply a family heirloom that some orcs had stolen!" Fildo said, raising his eyebrows triumphantly and puffing out his chest to make himself look important.

"Then why do you want it?" Tarascus asked, ignoring his diminutive companion. "And why should we believe you, you travel with a light elf!"

"The 'light elf' has a name," Darakor said grimly. "His name is Darakor and while he is not like his kin, he is anxious to return the favor who treat him unkindly."

"It is my life quest to recover and destroy it," Kelnozz said gravely after Darakor's implied threat had reached them all. "If you give us your word you will behave yourselves, we will let you go, but you must return to the surface, for only death awaits you in these tunnels," Kelnozz said.

"Sounds like a good idea to me, I'll leave!" Owsley said.

"Now wait a minute!" Fildo protested.

"Hold a moment, Fildo, I sense some truth in this elf's words. Let us leave him to his task, we have already fought many things down here and will return with a small fortune," Tarascus said to the halfling while staring at Kelnozz.

Fildo grumbled something under his breath and said, "Fine, let's just piss off the guild master. I suppose we can say we didn't find it and be on our way. Cowards!"

Kelnozz smiled and said, "Good, now be on your way, lest I suddenly change my mind and decide that we are enemies!"

Kelnozz lifted his swords and resheathed them. Owsley turned around slowly and looked at his former captor. He grinned like an idiot and the three of them turned and stalked off down a tunnel to the south.

Kelnozz and Darakor turned and began walking north. They stopped after a few moments and doubled back to follow them, for both were certain they had lied to them.

They followed the tunnel until it led into a large underground room with an elaborate statue of a spider in its southern end. The statue was made of pure ebony, and easily stood twelve feet tall. The three adventurers had already entered the room, and a large group of orcs that was worshipping the idol had noticed them.

Kelnozz watched as a battle quickly escalated. The adventurers were outnumbered three to one, but they fought well. That is, until the leader of the orc party drew his sword.

Kelnozz cursed and immediately ran towards the war leader, for he wielded a beautifully wrought bejeweled long sword that practically screamed evil. Owsley also saw the chieftain, however, and having no knowledge of Cirithallion he succumbed to its power and went into a berserk rage.

Owsley began laying about left and right, slaying or wounding orcs without abandon in an attempt to get to the chieftain so he could take the sword from him. Kelnozz was slowed down by a group of four orcs that ran out from a tunnel in the south wall. Darakor advanced as well, but instead of giving battle to the orcs he moved off to the side and stared at the sword with a growing hunger that he fought to resist.

He was only slowed a few moments as he easily cut them apart. He was delayed long enough, however, for Cirithallion had chosen a new wielder, and it betrayed the orc and slid from his grasp. Owsley impaled the war leader on his sword, then let it fall from his grasp, still sheathed in the mortally wounded orcs chest. He bent over and greedily grabbed Cirithallion.

Kelnozz was dimly aware that only a few orcs were left, it seemed that Tarascus used a strange yet powerful form of wrestling and boxing to defeat his opponents, a form that Kelnozz had only seen once before in his life, and that was so long ago that the memories brought pain to him.

Owsley lifted the sword high into the air in exultation, then turned to an orc charging at him and ran him through. As before, Cirithallion refused to be removed prematurely from the wound, and it turned pink at first, then red as it drained the last of the blood from the orcs body. Kelnozz came to an abrupt halt a few yards from Owsley once he had pulled the evil blade free of the corpse.

"Give me that sword, Owsley, or it will destroy you!" Kelnozz demanded.

Owsley looked at the sword, his eyes nearly aglow with power and greed. He turned and looked at Kelnozz and laughed sinisterly. "Rot in the Nine Hells, elf! It is mine!"

Kelnozz easily parried the first lunge aside, then set his own blades to work. In less then a minute, Owsley lay on the ground, severely battered and bruised, yet alive. the Chaos Blade lay at his side, and Kelnozz carefully reached down to pick it up. Owsley watched, to stunned to react, as Kelnozz's hand closed around the hilt of The Sword and he gently picked it up, his face a tightened mask of determination.

Darakor could take no more of the desire rushing through him. He gritted his teeth and let out a strangled moan as his knees gave way. The walls he had constructed in his mind exploded within him, and magical words rushed through his mind. Three centuries of denial were gone in a moment. He had his magic again.

A moment later, Owsley was blinded as a flash of light accompanied a thundering roar and a powerful bolt of lightning that slammed into Kelnozz. Kelnozz flew some ten feet through the air before crashing painfully to the ground. Cirithallion clattered to the floor.

Tarascus and Fildo watched the debacle with growing concern, uncertain as to whose side they should take. When the lightning bolt sprang out from beneath the idol of the spider, they looked at each other and ran to grab Owsley. They reached him and began to drag him back through the tunnel when they saw the light elf emerge from his hiding spot.

Kelnozz turned and tried to regain his feet, but he was still spasming from the electrical shock he had just received. He watched the light elf walk over to where Cirithallion lay and reach down to pick it up.

Darakor picked up Cirithallion and swayed unsteadily as the sword bonded itself to him. He shuddered and then looked up, a different look in his eyes and even his face. He grinned sadistically.

"You disappoint me, teacher," Darakor said. His voice had taken a change in pitch as well. "I expected better from you, of all people."

Kelnozz regained his knees and prepared to spring forward, his vision red with rage. Kelnozz was filled with hatred, not for Darakor, but for Ancaruin and Cirithallion, nothing would get in his way. Nothing would stop him from destroying that sword!

"If you'll excuse me," Darakor said with a flourish and a bow, "I need to be going. I believe my father seeks what resides in this sword. You know him well, Kelnozz, he was like an uncle to you once."

Kelnozz's strength left him at those words. Darakor chanted a few words rapidly and disappeared with a nearly inaudible pop of air rushing in to fill the vacuum his magical exodus had created. Kelnozz remained on his knees.

The cavern was deathly quiet for several minutes with nobody daring to move. Kelnozz remained silent and still, staring blankly at where Darakor had been. He shook his head and tried to understand what had happened. How was it possible that the son of his greatest and most hated enemy had been his apprentice for so long? He had treated Darakor as his own son and brother, sharing things with him that no other knew. How could he have gone so wrong? He was certain that he had trained Darakor about Cirithallion. Darakor knew better then to let Cirithallion tempt him! He knew better then to touch it. Finally Kelnozz took a deep breath and resolved that Cirithallion must have been working on Darakor for many years. Every time they almost had it the sword must have contacted him and twisted him a little further from the path Kelnozz taught him. Then again, Kelnozz realized, he was not dealing with someone who was his flesh and blood, but rather the spawn of the greatest traitor in elven lore.

It never failed, he thought sadly. The lure of power and magic had corrupted enough elves to make them deny their heritage and start a centuries long war that had pitted brother against brother. They had even undergone drastic magical rituals to purge their skin of the blackened look all elves had possessed until that point, making them light elves. Oh, he had known good wizards; Human and dark elf magic users that possessed no avarice or greed in them, but they seemed few and far between. He had even met one light elf who had been warm, kind, and gentle to him, but she was a priestess of nature and not a true mistress of the arcane.

Then there had been Alesha. Inwardly Kelnozz cringed at her memory. It had been countless years since he had visited her. It had hurt him to much each time he went there, so in the end, he kept finding excuses not to go. She had been corrupted by the gift of power as well. His eyes grew moist as he remembered his failures. He had not visited her not because she had become evil, but because he had failed to protect her and shield her from evil. It was because of Alesha that Kelnozz had sworn a vow to never grow close to another until such a time existed that he could protect that person. Such a time seemed to never be possible, the longer he lived.

It was his fault, all of it, somehow. He should have watched over Alesha more carefully. He should have warned Darakor better and kept him away from the blade. He should have even tried harder to keep his own father with him instead of letting him lead the armies of the remaining dark elven nation against the light elves

Seeing the dark elf standing still as a statue, the other three looked about at a loss. Finally Tarascus spoke.

"There's more to you then meets the eye, I think. Who are you?"

Kelnozz turned about slowly and stared Tarascus in the eye. His eyes glimmered in the torchlight wetly, but he blinked them away ere any tears would fall. He deserved no tears, whether they were shed by others or by himself. He sheathed his blades and spoke slowly, defeat in his voice, "I was Kelnozz Risingmoon once, but I am nothing. I have failed in my quest, and soon this world will be nothing."

"What was that sword?" Owsley finally managed to say as he sat up very slowly.

"Kelnozz Risingmoon... Hmm, that name is familiar," Fildo said thoughtfully. "Have we met somewhere before?"

As one, Owsley and Tarascus turned to Fildo and said, "Shut up!"

"That sword is known as Cirithallion, the Chaos Blade. It was forged centuries ago, shortly after the fall of Ancaruin. The smith who forged it was a goodly dwarf, but he had become possessed by a fragmented part of Ancaruin's spirit. He slaved for well nigh a week to craft that blade, and when it was finished it became and instrument of evil," Kelnozz said after he turned back to face Owsley.

"I have sought it for hundreds of years, coming close often but never close enough. Today it was within my grasp, but I failed yet again."

"Who was that light elf, Darakor?" Tarascus asked carefully.

Kelnozz looked squarely at Tarascus and said hollowly, "He was my finest student and the son of the man who nearly destroyed the dark elves."

"Hey! I know you! You're Kelnozz Risingmoon!" Fildo suddenly shouted with excitement.

"Shut up, Fildo!" Tarascus scolded him yet again.

"No damnit, he is the Kelnozz Risingmoon! You know, the one the legends speak of that quested with Gods? The Kelnozz who helped to slay Ancaruin, the Kelnozz to who was one of the first to freely come and go over the Periphery?" Fildo said, staring at Tarascus with disbelief.

Tarascus thought about the legends he had heard for a moment then he turned to Kelnozz and raised an eyebrow.

"I have also slain dragons aplenty and am a welcome member of the council of Sanctuary," Kelnozz said without humor. "Yes, that is me."

"You have been to Sanctuary?" Fildo breathed in awe.

Kelnozz nodded his head silently to Fildo's question. He then turned back to Owsley who was just now somehow regaining his feet.

"Oh, that Kelnozz," Tarascus said sheepishly.

"Can you walk?" Kelnozz asked Owsley.

"I think so," Owsley said. "Look, I'm sorry about what I did, I just lost control when I saw that sword."

Kelnozz shrugged, "Yes, many people have done that when first they saw it wielded. Even Darakor succumbed to its promises at long last." Kelnozz was silent for a long moment, pondering. Had Darakor finally surrendered to it or had he been biding his time all along, waiting for the chance to snatch it out from under him. Finally he looked up at Owsley again. "Very few have wielded it and survived the experience. Be thankful and remember it's madness. To seek it again would leave you ruined."

Owsley nodded. "Trust me, I will never go near it again! I need a week long bath just from holding it in my hand a few scant minutes."

"Leave these tunnels, with the orcs dead others may come soon," Kelnozz advised. He turned and pulled the pendant out from underneath his shirt.

"Wait!" Fildo cried out, running over to him. "Where are you going?"

Kelnozz looked at Fildo, his face conveying a sense of loss the halfling could and would never understand. "Sanctuary," he said quietly.

Fildo opened his mouth to ask another question but before he could Kelnozz disappeared in a flash of light.

Continued in Chapter 16

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