Magefable

By Heimdall Thunderhammer

Magefable is a beautifully illustrated fantasy adventure. This is the first book in an epic tale filled with magic, treasure, humor, and friendship, as well as many ferocious enemies and the dangerous trials of nature.

Durbin has always dreamed of becoming a swashbuckling adventurer like his legendary father. But unfortunately he's stuck in the secluded valley forest of Verdancia, far away from the sway and swagger of the sea. On one fateful evening a mouse named Clove and her spear hog companion Herod stumble into his village. They had escaped from the terrible lion Sinvicious who wants to stop Clove before she can gain the full power of a geomancer--a mage with the ability to control the elements. Fire, water, wind, lightning, all can be controlled by a geomancer. They can fly, turn themselves invisible, make their skin as solid as rock, shift the earth, and even control life... Although all Clove can do at this point is make weeds move.

The next morning when Durbin awakes he finds Clove and Herod gone. Unable to resist the call of adventure, he journeys out into the woods to find them, dragging along his reluctant friend Morro the hedge hog, who would rather be sitting at home eating scones and berries. On their way they meet other new friends such as Reverie, a wounded sparrow who can mesmerize animals with his singing, and Bailey, a courageous and boisterous young squirrel who is hunting for a dragon to tame. But as Durbin and Morro seek Clove and Herod, so does Krochek the Hunter--the most vile, savage rat ever to emerge from Sinvicious's kingdom. Along with his horde of bloodthirsty rodents he will tear the forest apart in his effort to find them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heimdall Thunderhammer
• Release date: Sep 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301489800

Heimdall Thunderhammer

Heimdall Thunderhammer was born where the rocky tor meets the frigid shore. His home a rustic village sitting upon a cliff below an ever-stormy gray sky. And during the time of year when the frost clings to the roots of the trees, the northern lights can be seen glimmering off the far horizon. The small cottage in which Heimdall Thunderhammer was born sits on the far eastern edge of the village, mingled amongst the wharfs and jetties. From the time that he figured out how to set a hook and trawl a net, he voyaged out to sea on his father's boat. While on the bounty, Heimdall learned to draw maps and to navigate using only sun stones by day and the placement of the stars by night. During the downtimes between catching fish and rigging the sails, his father and the other fishermen told him the tales of his ancestors and their gods. The moment Heimdall heard these stories and learned to read he knew that he would grow up to be a writer himself and weave such tales as he had heard on the swaying tides of his youth. It was while out at sea that the inspiration for his writing struck. He spotted two mice on the bow of the ship, both seemingly oblivious to the existence of the human crew. The mice were perched on the gunwhale, their gaze focused on the far horizon, with a sparkle of adventure glimmering in their tiny eyes. Where had they come from? And what great journey awaited them? When he asked those questions out loud, his father proceeded to tell Heimdall about the great beasts of the world, not only of the mice and other such forest critters, but of lions and dragons and similar beasts that Heimdall had never seen. And his father and the other fisherman told Heimdall of geomancy, the magic of such critters. Magic based on the six elements of nature. And so it was while pondering the adventures of those two mice and the hidden magic that they surely held that Heimdall realized his life's ambition; Magefable. Heimdall Thunderhammer has spent the past ten years writing and illustrating Magefable. He enjoys crafting tales and sharing them with those who also love magic, treasure, and great adventures. He appreciates the opportunity to interact with his fans, so if you ever have any questions or comments, do not be afraid to contact him. Website: www.magefable.com Blog: http://eagershelm.blogspot.com/ Twitter: @h_thunderhammer Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Magefable/388273767889541 and www.facebook.com/heimdall.thunderhammer Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6536186.Heimdall_Thunderhammer

Book preview

Heimdall Thunderhammer presents

Book I of the Magefable Saga

An Eagershelm Publishing Adventure

Copyright 2012 by T A Strout

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,

electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,

without prior written permission from the publisher.

Smashwords edition

ISBN 978-1301489800

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

THE MOUSE MAGE

CHAPTER 2

THE MOUSE SCAMP

CHAPTER 3

MOUNTSCALER VALE

CHAPTER 4

SAPSWARD VILLAGE

CHAPTER 5

THE LAST HARVEST FESTIVAL

CHAPTER 6

THE DRAGONSQUIRREL

CHAPTER 7

THE EAST NOOKS

CHAPTER 8

A NEW FRIEND

CHAPTER 9

TUCKED IN FOR THE NIGHT

CHAPTER 10

BALEL

CHAPTER 11

THE BLUE SHEPHERD

CHAPTER 12

ON TO BALEL

CHAPTER 13

THE SIX

CHAPTER 14

ON THE TRAIL

CHAPTER 15

ALL THE FURY IN THE WORLD

CHAPTER 16

THE SWAMP OF WRATH

CHAPTER 17

THE NEW HEAD SCOUT

CHAPTER 18

BATTLE ON THE BOARDWALK

CHAPTER 19

THE LEACHER

CHAPTER 20

INSPECTING THE DAMAGE

CHAPTER 21

FINAL INSTRUCTIONS

CHAPTER 22

SURPRISE ATTACK

CHAPTER 23

INTO THE SWAMP

CHAPTER 24

THE FARAWAY WHISPER

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ong have lions ruled Feralis. Under their reign, the country rose out of the archaic dark age of wood and steel, and into a renaissance age, where philosophy, science, and art flourished. They built great cities, with towers as high as birds could fly, and each city had libraries and academies where the smartest critters came to study. Under the lions’ rule, science overtook the old days of magic and civilization bloomed.

Until was born Sinvicious.

Wicked.

Cruel.

Ferocious.

Even the greatest scholars had not the proper word to describe the lion. He cared little for the peasants who lived in Feralis, only for the power he held. With a simple swipe of his paw he would wipe out his enemies. His roar travelled for a dozen larkscries and would even color the bravest of beasts a pale turn of grey.

He amassed vast armies and sent them to conquer the neighboring lands. He broke down the academies in each of the cities and used the stone to build statues of himself, statues that loomed high over the roofs of the menial masses unfortunate enough to not escape. Those who were weak became his servants, those who failed him were eaten, and those who betrayed him... a fate much worse than death.

And even in death no critter could escape Sinvicious, for it had been rumored that he even practiced the dark art, necromancy. While no critter had ever seen Sinvicious perform such magic and lived to tell of it, some had sworn to have seen the dead walking around his compound. And the blackness that covered Feralis, well, that certainly was not a thing of nature. Strong enough to block out even the sun itself, it was something that had not been seen since before the dawn of civilization. The scholars claimed that only unreined evil could produce such a force.

n the greatest oppression rises the greatest heroes. And so it was in Feralis that a hero was born. A mouse. Joran his name. He travelled the world with his small lot of critters, visiting the temples of the Elements so that he could gain the powers of nature and become a geomancer. For it was believed that geomancy would be the only discipline capable of countering necromancy.

It took most of Joran’s life for him to visit each Elemental and to gain their powers. He visited every corner of the world, from Korel to Riverglen, and from Ivenfjord to Thunderhaven. He made many friends on his journey, and watched many of them die, and by the time he had finished he had grown old and grey.

Sinvicious, meanwhile, had hardly aged at all. Still young by lion standards, he had only grown larger and stronger during Joran’s trek. His army grew, his kingdom grew, and even he himself grew, until the shadow he cast stretched across the mountains.

When Joran and Sinvicious finally met, an epic war was waged. Joran came at the lion with fire, rain, and lightning. He twisted the earth, parted the seas, and sent the very mountains themselves crashing down upon the lion. But when the skies cleared and the dust settled, only one critter still stood; Sinvicious.

f the critters that travelled with Joran, only one survived Sinvicious’s backlash; a spear hog named Herod. He had been Joran’s closest friend on their journey, his personal guide as they trekked from temple to temple, meeting with the many Elementals. He knew what it would take to train another geomancer and, after the loss of Joran, he vowed to find another one who could finally defeat the lion.

Sinvicious knew that Herod still lived and commanded all of his minions to find him.

He unleashed the Fera-Kai; giant beasts that could swallow rabbits whole and could easily knock down an entire building with a single charge. They tore up every village on the mainland of Feralis, torturing every critter they met to no avail.

Sinvicious sent forth the Valkerest; huge hawks that blacked out the sky when they flew and could see a mouse in a field of poppies from a larkscry away. They searched from the northern coast to the far south, circling many times, swooping down to inspect every traveller, but they too could not find the spear hog.

Finally Sinvicious ordered out the Pestus; hordes of rats that killed everything that stood in front of them and could scour every burrow, den, warren, hole, and nest. And it was one of the Pestus horde who spotted Herod leaving the northeastern shore of Feralis.

The leader of the rat horde was Krochek the Hunter, said to be the best scout in all of Sinvicious’s army. He led his horde storming onto a boat of otter traders and murdered the captain. The crew pulled anchor and set the sails, then Krochek held the navigator at knife point and forced him to plot a course following Herod.

ot knowing he was being followed, Herod sailed to a small archipelago off the coast of Feralis. The critters on the chain of islands had been kind to him and Joran in the past, serving as both the beginning of Joran’s journey as a geomancer as well as the final hiding spot for his party as they prepared for their ill-fated stand against Sinvicious. But when Herod arrived, it was not the villagers standing there waiting to greet him;

It was one of the Fera-Kai.

Herod faced the giant beast. For half a day they fought, battling on the coast, then into the bush and up the side of a mountain. Herod’s thick hide protected him against the Fera-Kai’s mighty claws. With his axe Herod managed to wound the beast, then with another swipe knocked the beast off the side of the mountain. The beast fell and broke its back on the jagged rocks scattered across the shore.

Herod searched the island for survivors, finding devastation everywhere he went. Entire villages had been slaughtered, some critters half-eaten, others just the smoldering remains of bones. But deep in the bush Herod did find one survivor; a tiny mouse babe floating atop the weeds.

He tried to find her family, but he knew for sure they were dead. Being that she was too young to speak, Herod decided to name her Clove and he took her with him as he left the archipelago.

Krochek and his horde discovered the wounded Fera-Kai as they sailed passed the sea shore. With his last breath, the critter told Krochek about his battle with Herod and the direction Herod was headed. Krochek followed the trail, landing on the other islands just moments after Herod had left.

By torturing the residents, Krochek was able to learn that Herod had found a new mouse mage, one that he thought would be powerful enough to finally defeat Sinvicious.

Krochek sent a few of his rats back to Sinvicious, to tell him of the trail they were on, and then he continued forth on the ocean, swearing to follow Herod to the end of the earth.

Oh, it’s beautiful!

The sun rested just above the distant mountains as Clove and Herod made their descent. The crooked ground twisted unevenly as it wound around the giant boulders which peppered the trail in huge clumps. The bright green grass that grew around the boulders sparkled with a shimmer of yellow from the residue of that morning’s rain. Old trees lined the edge of the trail, flanked by thick bushes that flourished in the shade of the mountains. Clove heard a tweet and looked up. Several birds flew over their heads, casually gliding down from the cold, high mountains.

As they watched the birds pass, Herod pointed to the forest to the south which sat deep within the valley. There it is, Verdancia. That’s where we’re headed.

The birds swooped down low and disappeared into the thick canopy of the trees.

Clove smiled and looked up at Herod. She had grown a lot since he had first found her. No longer a baby, she had the poise of a critter many times her age. Her dark, reddish-brown fur glistened in the evening sun. The next Elemental is there?

She is, Herod said with a quick nod.

And you still remember where?

Well... Herod said, pausing. He cocked his head nervously to the side. "No, not exactly. It has been quite a while... I wasn’t much older then than you are now. Don’t worry, though, we will find her. As soon as we get close, I’ll remember everything.

You sure? Clove asked as she looked up at Herod.

Herod cracked a rare smile and nodded. He could see the same shimmer of faith in her eyes as he had seen in Joran’s. Of course I am. Don’t worry.

I’m not worried, Clove said with a chuckle as she leapt down from a rocky ridge to the grassy field, her red cape fluttering behind her. I trust you.

Clove skipped down the vale, hopping over the small boulders and circling around the larger ones. Herod followed just a pace behind her. He held his giant axe at the ready, prepared to fight off any critter that dared to attack.

About halfway down Clove stopped and took a deep breath. A cool breeze blew up the winding trail of the vale from the forest below them.It smells so nice here. And the air stings a little...

That’s the smell of the forest in harvest season, Herod said. The smell of fruits and vegetables at their ripest, the smell of the leaves preparing to fall off the maple and oak trees, and the stinging bite of pine sap getting cold.

So much different than the smell of the sea, Clove said. And to think, I’ve been missing this beautiful smell my entire life.

Herod chuckled and patted Clove on the shoulder, signaling her to continue walking. I had forgotten you’ve never smelled a mountain breeze or a forest before.

Clove continued to skip forward down the steep trail.

I like the smell. It’s very refreshing.

Good, because it’s only going to get stronger as we enter the forest. My memories of Verdancia are filled with feasts, celebrations, and many friendly critters.

Do they have good food in Verdancia? Clove asked as she hopped up onto a boulder.

Some of the best, Herod said. Apples, pears, potatoes, carrots, berries, roots... All sorts of good food. Much better than the seaweed and kelp that we’ve been eating the last few seasons.

Clove slid down the boulder and kept on skipping. Mmm, yum, I am famished. I could eat a whole tree.

A whole tree? Herod chuckled. I don’t think you could do that, but when we reach the forest, I’ll pick you the biggest, reddest apple there is.

I hope so, Clove said, licking her lips.

They stopped atop a notch, about halfway down the vale. Clove smiled as she looked down upon the forest at the bottom of the steep trail. Verdancia looked so dark from there, and so vastly, vastly huge.

Herod looked back over his shoulder at the trail which wound upwards and to the west. The light cast by the setting sun lit the northern mountains in an orange glow. He could just barely see the entrance to the mountains, where a haze of mist started to form.

Clove turned to Herod and saw the intent look on his face. He was waiting for something. What is it? Not the rats... I thought we lost them.

I’m not sure we’ll ever lose them, Herod said gruffly. He ground his teeth and tightened his grip on his axe. Not until they kill us, or we kill them.

You don’t think they saw us climbing the cliffs, do you? They couldn’t have... It’s impossible. And our boat...We hid it, just like you said we had to, so it’s impossible... Right?

They’ve found it by now—

But we sank it!

Herod turned sharply and looked down at Clove. They’re scouts. The best in all of Feralis. They found me, twice, when even the Fera-Kai could not. Sinking our boat may have slowed them down a little, but they will be back on our trail, if they haven’t found it yet. And they won’t give up, either. They sleep very little, eat whatever they can kill, go for days without water...

What’ll we do? Clove asked softly. We can’t keep running forever. I thought we’d have lost them by now...

Herod saw the scared look on Cloves face. She had tears bubbling in her eyes. Her tiny jaw quivered as she stared up at Herod.

Well, worry not about them, Herod said. His face twitched nervously as he tried to comfort Clove. They die easily enough by my axe. And all I need to do is kill the leader, kill Krochek the Hunter, and the rest will scatter, too stupid to lead themselves.

Clove sniffled and nodded her head.

Stay vigilant, and they won’t catch us... she whispered, repeating the words that Herod had said to her many times over the past few seasons.

That’s right, Herod said. The biggest advantage the rats have over us is surprise. We can’t let them catch us unaware. We just have to keep our eyes open and not let them succeed.

You’re right, Clove said. Just the thought of them, though... Of what they did to my village... Of what they’ll do to any other villages... We can’t let them enter this forest...

Don’t worry about that, Herod said. The Pestus are what they are; a plague of rats. And they will do what they do no matter who they are tracking. We will not willfully lead them to a kill, but we cannot simply face them alone , not as we are. Our mission is far too important. When the time comes, then we fight.

Cap’n! Cap’n! a shout came from the distance.

Krochek the Hunter put his paw up and stopped his horde in their tracks. He was the biggest rat in the group, with dark gray fur matted into knots. His face had several scars and the edges of his ears were torn. He had two large golden shoulder plates connected together with leather straps.

Krochek looked down the trail at his two lead scouts, Rothealm and Lashtongue, whom hurried towards him. The rats each tugged on a rope that wrapped around the neck of a mole. The mole struggled to free himself as the rats dragged him down the craggy trail.

We got one, Cap’n! Har, he gonna speak, too!

He’s a live one, eh! Gonna be wishin’ he wasn‘t!

Krochek’s expression did not change. He stared straight ahead, waiting intently. The horde of rats behind him gathered into a large group, twitching nervously as they waited to see what their volatile leader would do.

Rothealm and Lashtongue dragged the mole to Krochek and pushed him down onto the stones in front of Krochek’s feet. The mole’s chubby face swelled up with tears.

Found ‘im just a ways up the trail, Lashtongue said.

Watchin’ us, aye, Rothealm said. Knows these parts, he says. We caught ‘im, knew you’d want ter speak to ‘im.

Krochek remained silent as he stared down at the little mole and listened to his scouts jabber on.

Lashtongue swung his fist as he spoke. He tried ter fight us off, stupid crinkle tail, but we got ’im fer ya.

Started cryin’ a bit, so I smacked ‘im with the side o’ me blade, Rothealm chuckled. Didn’t wanna cut ‘im though, knew’d ya wanna do that yerself.

Want us ter get ‘im started fer ya? Lashtongue asked as he pulled his spear off his back. Make ’im bleed, then he start talkin’!

The mole stared up into Krochek’s glaring eyes. The little critter whimpered, then, when he saw Krochek’s expression didn’t change, he closed his eyes tight and started to sob. Wh-what did I do? Oh, please tell me... And, and... Who are you..?

Cut yer cryin’! Lashtongue said as he poked the mole in the back with the tip of his spear. No one likes ‘er cry baby!

Stop that! Krochek barked at Lashtongue. Lashtongue hopped in the air and dropped his spear. He stumbled back, trying to brace himself, utterly shocked at Krochek’s sudden outburst.

But, Cap’n, I was jus...

Can’t you see the poor critter is scared? Krochek roared. He raised his arms furiously, then pointed dramatically at the critter whimpering at his feet. Just look at him!

Lashtongue looked down at the mole, completely confused, and frightfully nodded his head. Aye, yes, Cap’n, he is... Fer sure he is...

Rothealm slowly backed away, separating himself from his partner Lashtongue so as not to incur Krochek’s wrath.

And what do you suppose hurting him will do?

Er... Nothin’, Cap’n?

That’s right, worm brain, it’ll do nothing. Krochek turned his attention from Lashtongue to the crying mole. Now stop those tears, we won’t hurt you, we just want to talk.

The mole slowly opened his heavy eyes. His little jaw quivered. T-talk? Is that all?

Yes, my new little friend, Krochek said with a sinister smile. Talk; that is all I want. So, is it true what they said? Do you know these parts well?

Why, yes, sir, I did live here for all my life, the mole said, his voice starting to calm. Born not far from here, in Mountscaler Vale.

Mountscaler Vale, hmm? Krochek said. Sounds like a nice place. This path we’re on, does it lead there?

Yes sir, the mole said, slowly stumbling back up to his feet. He was half the size of Krochek and had to tilt his head back in order to see into the rat’s eyes. It certainly does. In fact, it’s the only place this trail leads. Well, unless you want to go up into the mountains, but critters rarely do, not with the birds that live there... Mean critters they are...

We’re not looking for birds, we’re looking for some... Friends of ours... We think they might have passed this way. A spear hog, old and gray, with a mouse not more than a few seasons old... Did you see them on this trail?

Oh, uhm, yes, I think I remember them. Didn’t bother to say hello, though, they looked quite busy with wherever it was they were going.

I’m sure they were, Krochek said. Did you happen to notice which way that was? They didn’t go up further into the mountains, did they?

Oh, certainly not. They seemed to know quite well where they wanted to go--Mountscaler Vale.

Are you sure...

Quite positive, the mole said, nodding surely. He puffed his chest up and tapped his paw on his chin as he thought. Heard the spear hog even mention it. Said they was going to look for a... a... temple? Whatever that may be...

Krochek’s smile grew. He caught himself starting to sneer and jerked his head to the side. His eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to maintain his amiable composure. Yes, yes, that sounds about right. So how far is it to Mountscaler Vale?

Oh, it’s still a good larkscry away, if not more. You’ll never catch up to them before they reach Verdancia Forest, that’s for sure.

Really? Krochek said, stepping a bit closer to the mole. He bent over and moved his face in close so that his nose nearly touched the tip of the mole’s nose. Verdancia Forest, you say... I’ve never heard of this place. You think they’ll be heading there next?

The mole tilted his head back slightly away from Krochek’s. No choice, really. There’s not much else in Mountscaler Vale, other than boulders and molehills and a few nests. I’m sure there’s no... Temple... In Mountscaler Vale.

But there are temples in Verdancia Forest?

The mole shrugged. Don’t really know what a temple is.

Of course you don’t, Krochek said, trying to breathe calmly, even though his blood was racing. His knotted fur started to drip thick beads of sweat. So tell me more about this Verdancia Forest.

I would if... Well... Would you mind releasing me?

The mole looked up at Krochek pitifully, his paw pulling at the rope that wrapped around his neck.

Lashtongue and Rothealm glanced at Krochek, blank expressions of shock on their faces. They could not understand why Krochek would be so kind to their captive.

Cap’n? Rothealm asked, his paw quivering. He took another step back, fearful of what repercussion his retort might bring. You don’t mean to...

Of course we’ll let you go, Krochek said, nodding to the rat scouts. Lashtongue and Rothealm both dropped their ends of the rope then stared questioningly at each other. Both shrugged their shoulders as they silently communicated their disbelief.

Oh, much better, the mole said as he pulled the rope off his neck. He had a thankful smile on his face as he looked back at Krochek. What is it you want to know, then?

What kind of critters live in this forest?

Oh, all kinds! Birds, squirrels, hedge hogs, mice, badgers... Oh, and moles, of course, I have some family there...

What about spear hogs?

Oh, no, I’m not related to any spear hogs that I know of...

Krochek closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He tried to keep his calm as he breathed out. His voice growled slightly. Of course you aren’t...

Did I say something wrong? the mole nervously asked.

Krochek composed himself and continued talking. What I meant to ask was, are there any spear hogs who live in the forest?

Oh, yes sir, of course... the mole said, nodding. He suddenly stopped, stuttered for a moment, then shook his head. "Well, no, actually, there are none that live there regularly, just as a passerby, like

Reviews for Magefable

[lemurkat · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is a cute story, with simple but endearing illustrations. Alas, it seemed too heavily flavoured by Redwall to truly capture my full attention. The story is fairly standard - a heroic Spearhog, Herod (which I think is supposed to be a porcupine, although they are neither related to hedgehogs nor can fire their quills, so maybe not) and his elementally-skilled mouse companion, Clove, are set on finding a hidden temple whilst being pursued by angry rats. Despite the fact that the rats are following them in a destructive, cannibalistic wave, Herod deems their mission more important than the lives of many poor forest dwellers tht get caught up in it, along the way (including a village of colourful birds). This viewpoint is later changed, and Herod certainly proves his worth.

Anyhow, the other two characters are a mouse, Durbin, and his hedgehog friend, Morro. These two are a destructive force of their own, as Durbin tricks his naive young friend into disturbing the lives of the poor villages as much as possible - from wanton vandalism to thievery. When they stumble upon Herod and Clove, Durbin develops an interest in the young mouse maid, and persuades his gullible friend to join him - first in finding them and then in joining their party. Along for the ride is a bold and brash young squirrel, and his "dragon" companion. The rats are suitably nasty, and also relatively bumbling, a few reasonable tacticians and our band of heroes would have been dinner. There is also, of course, an open ending to lure readers into buying the sequel.

One thing I did find quite off-putting was the typos, always a challenge in self-published novel - there were various places where words were missing, or quotation marks, one "you're" instead of "your" that made me shudder, and the author appears to lack the ability to spell "entrails" consistently - getting it right on 1 out of 3 occasions (also "endtrails" and "endtries"). Thus the novel could do with another, more thorough, proofread.

Overall, a cute read for Redwall fans who are mourning the lack of further stories, but no real surprises and I found the irresponsible nature of the main protagonist somewhat off-putting. I know it is supposed to show his impulsive, feckless nature, but I could not help but feel terrible for the poor lady whose crop he demolished and the following trail of destruction. He does, however, show a certain growth in maturity as the story progresses.