Legends from The Warlock's Chair - Book One - Ravengaard

Chapter Twenty-six - Ravens Bane

THE CLOUDS ROILED THICK AND BLACK over the dark keep. Outside the window slits, thunder rolled and lightning flashed with a greater ferocity than Ceradin Ravengaard had ever known. It was as if the storm sensed something was about to happen.

It had now been several hours since Caranaxus had come to him; not that time had any meaning in this infernal place. The Witch had revealed that the spells to break down the barriers had been located. 

Now she and the other sorcerers studied them. They had but one chance to use the conjurations. Everything needed to be correct, one word spoken out of place or used incorrectly could render the spells useless.

He paced the floor of his chambers. The winds that moaned around the ravaged walls caught the many flickering candle flames that lit the room and whipped at his cloak, sending a shiver through his frame. He grew impatient now that he was so close to escaping from this hell that he was forced to live in.

At least those interfering children were no longer a threat to his plans. Maelgwn had returned from the caves with the news that they had been destroyed.  

Ravengaard turned and walked to the fire that blazed in the hearth. Sparks popped and crackled, caught by the wind, they swirled out into the room. The Warlock smiled, waved a hand towards them. The sparks danced in front of him, coalescing into a glowing ember that floated above his outstretched palm. He studied it, the heat reflecting in his coal black eyes.

Soon, he thought. I will take my revenge on your insignificant little worlds. I  will unleash a thousand years of pent up anger upon your lands and you will surrender to my dominion, or you will die.  

A sudden sound drew his attention back to the room. He crushed the ember in his fist, letting the ashes drop coldly to the floor. 

There was movement in the hallway outside the door.

Sscarr slithered out from its resting place behind the throne, it let out a warning hiss and its tongue flicked out to taste the air within the room.

'Enter,' Ravengaard called out.

'Master. It is I, your loyal servant Wyther,' a harsh voice echoed from the passageway. 'I have news.'

'Stop snivelling and come in,' the Warlock shouted furiously. ' But I warn you, it had better be good news.'

A Goblyn appeared in the doorway. Its yellow eyes blinked, more used to the gloom of its underground lairs than the harsh candlelight. It hesitated, glancing about the room, then, claws clicking on the stone floor, it crossed towards Ravengaard. Battle Chieftain Wyther was bigger, stronger and slightly more intelligent than the majority of his brutish species. Clothed in rusted armour and chainmail, he carried with him an array of weapons all heavily pitted and tarnished from battle. One, of the dozens bred in the lightless vaults deep in the bowels of Ravens Bane. The Warlock spent time working the magic and dark potions until he had shaped the perfect weapons to lead his armies.

Its horned head bowed slightly as it approached.

'I bring good news. The armies of the Dark Domain stand ready, my lord.' Wyther answered. 'They are ready to pour forth and do battle on your command.'             

Ceradin Ravengaard smiled once more, this was indeed a good day.

In the pits below the castle, he had discovered a vast system of caves and caverns that spread through the surrounding area. It was home to a Goblyn race, creatures of darkness and half-light. Once surface dwellers, they found themselves driven underground when the surface world became uninhabitable. They were a wild nomadic race, split into various tribes that were endlessly at war with each other. Ravengaard soon assimilated himself into one of the tribes. With the help of his magic, he performed seemingly wondrous illusions, which to the Goblyns primitive mind were the workings of one of the Forsaken Gods they worshipped. News of his coming spread among the tribes and slowly the overcame their tribal instincts. He gathered them together, forging them into a great army a hundred thousand strong. Now, along with other creatures trapped in the Evermurk, they stood ready to do his bidding.