Shadowkeep
Kane considered the map before him, moving his eyes from marking to marking. This was not a common map. No, it was very different from any other map in existence. Not because of its tar-black ink, which never faded over the years, though that was certainly abnormal. Nor was it because of the map's size, for it was monstrously large, spilling over the sides of the great table. It wasn't because of the map's age. Such a document should have been tattered, its color faded with time, its surface wrinkled and creased. This one was embossed with a powerful anti-aging spell. Still, that was not the reason.
No, this map was unique because it did not simply end at the borders of Dragonwall. Dragonwall's maps, every one of them, only went as far as the boundaries around the kingdom—the Northern and Eastern Barrier Ranges, the Dragonfire Sea to the west, and the South Seas to the south. This map continued northward and eastward, well into uncharted territory, except the territory was charted, it was laid out upon the parchment in fine detail. There was no other map like it.
Kane enjoyed knowing things no one else did.
Studying the parchment, he made annotations, notes for later. Every so often he muttered to himself, "That won't do." Or, "Surely not there." He analyzed each option available, taking great care as he spanned the whole of Dragonwall.
His task was an important one. He needed hiding places for his three Dragon Stones. These locations needed to be unreachable for anyone except him, and easily accessible should he need to recover them on short notice, like when he obtained the remaining two.
He leaned over the map and made several transcriptions near a set of caves not too far east. "Yes," he decided. "This will make an excellent hiding place." High on the cliffs, the caves were unreachable, except for perhaps mountain goats, or maybe a dragon, for that was how he intended to arrive. He scanned several more places along the parchment. Two locations remained unselected, but which would he choose?
There was a knock on his door.
"Enter." He laid down his quill on the parchment, careful not to smear any of the wet ink. Gerard shuffled in, overly bent at the waist such that his nose and eyes faced the floor. How ridiculous he looked walking in such a way. Behind him marched an armored Gobelin, helm tucked under its elbow.
"My Lord," Gerard croaked. "A visitor." Even standing, the servant's posture was stooped, evidence of the many hours spent bowing and simpering...and cleaning. Yet Shadowkeep was still in ruins, full of dust and cobwebs.
Gerard stayed extra still.
He looked them both over. "You may go, Gerard, that will be all. And do take extra care when scrubbing the hall today. I saw spiders the size of my fist lurking in the shadows." The servant shuddered before backing from the room.
The Gobelin stepped forward. Gobelins were short—this one did not quite reach his chest. Its sinewy muscles made up for its lack of height. "Greetings, Your Malevolence. I bring word from Supreme Leader Tazak." The Gobelin's accent was harsh and guttural.
"Good. I will hear it."
"Supreme Leader Tazak wishes Unka to tell Your Malevolence—troops are assembled as requested. March from Pavv into Eastern Barrier Range will begin immediately. In mean time, Unka and Unka's men sent as gift of good will. May alliance be strong and last long." Unka brought his fist to his chest in a powerful gesture of respect.
"Yours is welcome news, Unka."
The gods only knew he'd had little of that as of late.
Unka was one of few Gobelins who spoke the common language. This pleased him. Better still, Tazak's troops were assembled in the Eastern Range, ready to march. The Gobelin king had hundreds of thousands under his command. "How many follow you, Unka of Pavv?"
"One hundred strong males," Unka answered, pulling his shoulders back proudly. "More from Supreme Leader can come if Your Malevolence desire."
"Very well. One hundred will suffice for now. Since you are a gift to do with as I please, I have a task for you. I must ensure that the lands surrounding my fortress remain free of wandering trespassers. See to it that your men patrol. Kill any who come within ten leagues unless they look suspicious, in which case, bring them to me."
"Yes, Your Malevolence." Unka bowed deeply. "Unka go patrol."
Upon Unka's exit, he returned to his task. Perhaps it was his focus upon the map, or the safety provided by the fortress that made him careless, for he did not immediately notice the smoke in the corner. It materialized like hissing steam oozing from lava rock, seeping through the cracks of the walls. He turned to face the Vodar wraiths just as they arose like shadows come to life.
A brief assessment of their appearance told him everything he needed to know. They had failed. "You have returned empty handed." He scowled. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Once more I find myself disappointed."
"My lord," one of the six stepped forward. "We were met with opposition—a powerful girl."
"A...a girl?" he sputtered, not quite sure he'd heard correctly. "You failed at the hands of a girl?"
"She used strange magic against us. Next time we will be ready."
The world beyond was void of magic, it was created that way. His ancestors made it to exile the magicless of this world, human scum. With the laws implemented after the creation of these portals—laws prohibiting the use of any Gate punishable by death—none dared pass.
"Of what girl do you speak?"
"She was young, my lord. She needed no sword to vanquish us, no fire to drive us away. Her device was—unusual."
There was a moment of silence before another stepped forward. "We underestimated our task, my lord."
"Obviously. You failed to obtain my prize. I am beginning to think you are pointless sacks of smoke, useful for nothing at all."
"I killed the white one, my lord." A third stepped forward. Unlike the others, this one's short sword was missing.
"Well there is something—one small success dwarfed by your colossal failure. And the girl? Tell me you killed her too."
"She lives."
His mood darkened. "Find her. Kill her. And bring me my Stones!" The last part he hissed through his clenched jaw.
They were off at once, and good riddance too. Anything drawn from the depths of Undirfold was unsettling, even for him.
He returned to his map, muttering. "You still have three Stones," he reminded himself. He enjoyed the power they provided, the confidence, the strength. He would accomplish his goals, and the Stones would aid him on his road to domination. Hiding them away was unfortunate but necessary until their safety was guaranteed.
Gerard knocked at his door; he knew it was Gerard because the servant's smell permeated the air. He gritted his teeth in displeasure. A day full of disturbances was an unpleasant day indeed!
"What is it?" he snapped. He would kill the next intruder.
Gerard entered again, this time pale and fidgety. He stood there silently with bulging eyes until Kane reminded him that he was a nuisance. "Have you no floor to mop? No hole to hide yourself in?"
The servant muttered something inaudible and continued his twitching, eyes still wide enough to burst.
"Have you something to say? Or did you simply come to gawk?"
Gerard whispered, once more mumbling incoherently. Of all the servants he employed, this one was certainly the most annoying—and meddlesome too. Were it not so difficult to recruit common scum, he would have done away with Gerard long ago. "Well? Spit it out!"
"D—dragons...my...my lord," he managed to say. He pointed to one of the loopholes in the room. "Dragons," he repeated. "Dragons over Ice Lake. Look, my lord. See them? There."
Ice Lake was the large, partially frozen lake at the basin of Shadowkeep. He knew very well about the dragons. He also knew why the servant was so surprised. Dragons were extinct, or so everyone believed. They were nothing more than fairy tales used to scare little children.
"Look," Gerard repeated.
"I need not look. What of them?"
"They are...they are wild."
"Good observation." Simpering idiot. "Is this all you wish to tell me?"
"But...but how is it possible? How can...how can it be? Why are there wild dragons over Ice Lake?"
"Why?" he all but roared. "Because I commanded it of them! Do you see this sword here?" He pointed at the weapon lying propped against the wall.
"Y—yes, my lord."
"If you bother me one more time today, I will use it to slice off your idiotic head from your shoulders. How I would love to see it roll. Would you like that?" Gerard cowered in fear, whimpering. "Now leave me."
He almost regretted not taking Gerard's head. Death always made him feel better. But one death would be nothing compared to the numerous lives he was about to take. He felt the muscles on his face pull at his lips, until his teeth were exposed. Yes, why not have some fun, there was no more need to wait.
He went to the loophole and looked out upon Ice Lake, taking in the sight that Gerard was so terrified of. He took pleasure in Gerard's fear. The people of Dragonwall would have similar reactions of disbelief. Nearly one hundred, swooping and diving as they caught fish and game from the lake. Every color imaginable on display, but he looked for one in particular. A blood-red flash caught his eye. There he was. Wrath. The leader of the Ice Clan. The Ice Clan was the oldest and most infamous of the ancient dragon clans. It was also the only clan still in existence, unbeknownst to Dragonwall and its king. How overjoyed he was upon discovering them hiding away in the North. Kalderland had been full of surprises. Now he offered them the one thing taken from them some fifty thousand years ago. Their home. But only a portion of it. The North of Dragonwall would be theirs if they cooperated, and the South would be his.
"Wrath, it is time." He sent the telepathic thought to the wild dragon. Watching the creature from a distance, he noticed that the red beast changed its flight pattern.
"Time to fly? Time to kill? Wrath yearns to deal death—yearns to kill." Dragons often spoke of themselves like this.
"Yes, Wrath. It is time to deal death."
"Wrath shall begin at once."
"Good. Burn Belnesse to the ground. Leave no one alive."
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