The Demon Hunters: Pleides Series: Book Iv

By A.L. Neff

The stunning conclusion to the Pleides Series-Darkwolfe and the Dragon Band hunt down the escaped demons. What follows is nothing short of spectacular as the adventurers travel to the Dragon Temple, the Elven Forest, and to the city of Thor's Hammer.

Only the fates may know what the king will find when at last his soul is bared the forces of nature and battle is at last waged on Alcyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2003
• ISBN: 9781462073672

A.L. Neff

Adam currently lives in upstate New York with his wife and two children. He is a musician, the founder of Cheiron Karate, a poet, a surgical technologist, adventurer of the mind and spirit, & holds a Masters degree in Psychology.

Book preview

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Glossary

I would like to dedicate this work to all individuals who speak up in protest against circumstances that they feel strongly against. It

is often difficult to voice one’s opinions when they are the minority and the heavy handed majority scoffs their notions of peace and intellectual approach. It is okay to disagree, but silence is the worst fate when witness to murder.

I would like to acknowledge the efforts of Donald Trulsen for his input into this novel. He has consistently been a sounding board for my work and his opinions and criticism has made this book

what it is today.

Part 11

ZaVaruk the Conqueror

Prologue

I have watched long and deep in the pool of immortality, and for thousands of years filled my inner sails with the blessed wind of life. Yet never have I stared with such awesome curiosity, or intensely felt the pain so woundingly from the trials of my dearest student.

Seth Crownover, now the Pagan King Darkwolfe has suffered much. He came from his home city, both of his parents dead and his father brutally murdered by those who were once his friends. Everyone he knew was killed by the ravages of a mage-induced curse and Grathmoor nearly destroyed by its chaotic rampage.

Seth came to me for help and divine guidance, and this I gave freely after the remedy of his untimely sacrificial death was addressed. In the Dragon Temple where I have kept vigilance all this time, I placed him in the magickal pool of dragon blood and thus he was reborn; a prophetic figurehead to lead the people in a time of need.

Still, resurrection has a price, the gift of life given by he who resides over the realms of the dead. And always is that price high.

Once he was brought back to the material essence of what we call life, did I take him to the sacred chamber and train him for three straight years in the arts of war and magick. Sleep was nothing more than an hour or more at a time, and once I had enjoyed my short respite did I magickally revive him and begin the training once again with earnest.

In three years he came far. In three years he was ready for the trials that the Pleidian Council had decreed to set before him. And so once armed and armoured did I send him and his companions out to protect the Demon Gate, but alas they were too late and Darkwolfe’s love and wife Charlemette was murdered by the evil mage Sabbath.

Grief stricken by the loss, but destined to follow the course he had put before himself, the king then set out to the ancient temple of the wild god Cernunnos.

Here again did the man triumph after destroying the many, trolls, orcs, and goblins; here he faced and killed the High Kobold Lieutenant. Again there was loss and the Lord Silverworm of Sanctuary was killed during the battle. Darkwolfe communed with the wild god, the Pine Tree Wind, and after much turmoil and sacrifice did he realize that it was all for naught. He had left the castle of Grathmoor unprotected and before he was able to return home, the Demon Gate was stolen by the wicked Shaithen snake men and the vicious vampire Sciloren.

Darkwolfe did not give up as many mortal humans may have done at this juncture. Instead he pursued the thieves deep into the Shadows of the Underworld. His new love for the priestess Willow blossomed in those dark depths, but so did his pain and his precariously perched self was in jeopardy of falling into a pit of no return.

Anger and fear and hatred began to fill his being and with these things so did his innocence dissipate.

Willow was killed protecting him and with her sacrifice so too was the vampire banished from existence. The Demon Gate was recovered and the Caliginous Dragon Abhorrer destroyed. One more feat was left for the remaining companions; One more adventure.

I have seen the armies massing; I have seen the onset of war. The northlands are not my concern though I hear and feel the deaths of the women and children, only the demons matter now. The atrocity Elf Bane and his brother Morlod were loosed from the gate and set upon the elven lands of Sanctuary.

Za’Varuk is coming, this I know, but when? He will attack the Dragon Temple and try with one last hope to destroy me and my home; this one last bastion of hope in these dark times And last but not so certainly, Sabbath and the Succubus demon Ashbran are in hiding somewhere within the city ofThor’s Hammer; they too must be annihilated.

So much to do for the lad, before he dies! He must stop the demons before he moves on from this realm. He must finish the task at hand. He must do what he was brought back to life to do, before he returns to that place of death, before he finds peace, until he and Charlemette are again as one.

Master Cheiron, the Dragon Temple;

Personal writings; circa 5411 P.C.

Chapter 1

The Northern Front

Sky Notting, the resident Lord of Freehold, watched the preparations of the town’s defenses with some measure of respect and satisfaction. His breast plate was old and worn having seen many battles, but it was still none-the-less functional and worth quite a bundle of gems for the antiquarian. Building and protecting Freehold in its early days on the northern frontier did not come easy nor cheaply; many good men had lost their lives to the troublesome orcs and goblin tribes native to the area, but over time the outpost of Freehold along with several other small forts made up the human settlements northeast of Grathmoor and to the south and east of North Pointe proper.

His councilor Stewart Fischer stood nearby and spoke as a harbinger of woe. I hope that I am wrong; nay, I pray it is so. None of this makes any sense. If I am right we may all be doomed! His form was thinner than the stout and barrel-chested Sky, but he was not without muscular strength or abilities when it came to fighting. His mind was his greatest asset and had served him well in helping to maintain the day to day functions of Freehold and to trouble shoot many of the isolated problems that had arisen over the years.

Sky looked his way and simply nodded his head in agreement, but took his pessimism as a bad omen for his friendly councilor had never carried such dark clouds before.

The town as such was not large. It was really only a gathering of roughly 50 houses or so, several stores and taverns, a smithy, a bowyer, and a small temple where people of various faiths worshipped side by side in relative tolerance. People enjoyed their lives here, complaints and problems were generally dealt with in a succinct manner, and existence went on as usual.

Freehold was south and east of the dwarven kingdom of Rockshome, or called by proper naming Gothulai. Though in relatively close proximity to the mining mountain fortress, the small town had never had any direct dealings with the dwarves and so the rider Forest had been sent more south and a bit further along to the larger city of Grathmoor. Lord Noblin and Lord Notting had had several meetings over the years and Sky believed that in due course the man would send along some of his troops to help protect the inhabitants of the isolated walled city.

The consolidation of people lived well amidst each other and the even-handed rule of Sky; for what he wondered? To simply have it all end now, to be eaten by a bigger fish with a great appetite for conquest and expansion into the area he now called home? He screwed his face up in frustration and nothing short of mounting anger.

The banging of hammers on wooden pegs and the rubbing sound of hemp ropes being pulled and tightened brought Sky out of his reverie of dark emotional clouds. The town’s one and only catapult was being brought up to functional standards behind the main gate and a large pile of boulders was being rolled into place.

With a sighter on the wall, the machine would be able to deliver a semi-steady flow of ammunition out toward the main approach to the town. While it was likely if an attack did come that they would be surrounded and the town’s defenders would have to use their most capable archer’s to best effect on the perimeter walls’ unbroken walkway.

Sky had to force himself to take command of not only his men, but himself. He was confused and angry. This could, if he let it, lead to errors in judgment, and the ultimate fall of those people who looked up to him as their leader and only protector. Everyone here who took up arms did so in their own defense, they were not trained warriors or even mercenaries with a sword for hire, in general, these were individuals with non-military professions and families who wished only to live here in Freehold in peace and pleasant habitation away from the crime and atrocities often found in larger cities, and without the isolation of going it alone in the vast wilderness.

Yet Sky still had his doubts that an attack would come; was his trust in his councilor Fischer well founded? He had to admit that the call to North Point was strange and ill taken, but did it really mean that they were suddenly going to be destroyed for not complying with the most powerful Lord in the immediate area? He wasn’t sure.

Still it was far better to be prepared for treachery than to be stabbed blindly in the back asleep. And, he thought in realistic terms, it had been some time since the town had run through a mock preparedness drill for a giant or goblin attack. Worse case scenario Sky realized, was that nothing would come of this whole affair and he could brush it off as a very realistic drill for the well-being and welfare of his people.

Somehow working this progression out in his head made him feel better and he couldn’t help but grin a little at his foolishness and laughed heartily taking several men at the catapult by surprise. Not that way, he commanded sternly, but with friendly authority. Let me show you. He ran over to the group of men working on the war machine.

He took a rope from one man and tied the knot more securely. He refitted a peg in place and checked the firing mechanism. At last he nodded his head in approval. Sky also noted that many of the younger men had begun growing beards in a fashion much like his own. It was flattering to be idolized and again that weight of possible doom settled over his soul. The fate of these people was in his hands. He would not falter he promised himself. He would not falter.

To one such lad who was growing a beard he put a hand on his shoulder and led him a few feet away from the basket where the boulder would be loaded. When this goes, you don’t want to be standing here I assure you! He winked at the young man for emphasis. The youth had downy fuzz for a goatee coming in and Sky simply took it in stride. Though he certainly never considered himself to be of heroic status, Sky figured there were certainly far worse role models in Glazeer who the young man could erringly look up to.

Yes sir! The youth croaked in an attempt at military fashion and though he tried, couldn’t suppress a toothy grin.

Easy men, we’ll be okay. He clapped the guys around him on the shoulders each in tern as if mere contact would spread the courage that he thought and hoped he possessed. They smiled wanly back in return and Sky walked briskly away to examine the tall front gates.

Do you think he’s right; will we be okay? One man, Quill by name asked the other.

Sure, Michael responded. Sky has never let us down before. I don’t care if all the monsters in the world attack us, Sky will save us. He pointed at the back of Sky Notting then, watching as he checked the fortifications of the gate’s defenses and then as the man went on talking with the troops and inspecting arms and armour.

What can go wrong? he said defiantly and spit thickly onto the deep, rich earth.

Night had come with severity, though not cold and only a light breeze flicked the many burning torches, it was very difficult to see in the darkness. It was a very real possibility that the enemy could sneak up on them and be within a stones throw of the wooden walls of Freehold before even they were noticed and perceived as a viable threat. Still, everyone’s morale was decent at least and the women and children had been sent to their log homes with hope to find a peaceful rest.

Sky Notting finished his precursory examination of the fortifications and preparedness of his men and felt at least somewhat satisfied that they were ready to meet whatever Fate may throw their way. Alright; very good then. The men around him beamed with pride and satisfaction from the compliment and continued with their work.

Ho! A rider is on the road!" A man from the wall yelled in a deep, resonant voice. Archers scrambled to the fore wall and Sky leaped up the straight and only stairway leading up to the platform. The rest of the defensive perimeter was accessible only via thin wooden ladders.

Its Forest, Sky proclaimed with amazement, let him in…And quickly! An army approaches!

Sure enough, as the gate was quickly unbarred and the youth and his steed allowed to charge in, a good-sized army of at least one thousand soldiers advanced on the road and from the surrounding forest edge.

The enemy fanned out making a thick line. They sported no light, but still their presence was seen, felt, and heard by all.

Northsmen! Quill proclaimed. Orcs and goblins too.

Take it easy, Sky said wisely. He ran down to meet the returned rider Forest and to hear what he had to say of the enemy.

The lad was clearly shaken by the event of his ride and the horse was in a lather from what must have been a long and dangerous pursuit.

Tell me, Lord Notting said softly, coaxingly to the young man. You obviously didn’t get to Grathmoor. What happened?

Forest was shy it seemed or scared. He hesitated, looking around him as if pleading for help from those gathered around him. I, I came upon them not far from here. I-I tried, but I couldn’t find a way through their defenses. Instead I watched and waited, but then they spotted me and tried to catch me. I was s-so frightened, so I ran back here.

Its okay, its okay; you’re safe now, Sky cooed.

A loud boom split across the field before the town and the skies lit up with a bright light; a flare of sorts. A handful of balls of light slowly drifted down from the night illuminating the large army, captivating many who looked on from the walls, gripping them with thoughts of doom and ferocious terror.

A moment of distraction.

The body of Forest transformed while the townspeople looked at the mag-ickal display. The horse separated into large pieces, twisting and solidifying like rubbery clay until they took on the mass of something else entirely.

Aaagh! Sky croaked and a wet thud came to those close to Lord Notting. There behind him, where just a moment ago stood the small waif of a lad Forest, was now a massive Northsman and he had buried the head of his axe deep into the back of Sky.

Where the horse had stood, now was spread out half a dozen other men from The Crown, wearing pleated armoured skirts and brilliant cuirasses of shiny silver metal. Their hair was cut short and they cut down the councilor Fischer and several others who were nearby splitting them apart with their huge broadswords.

The archers on the wall turned about from the noise and motion below. Many fired at the intruders, others merely looked on with shock and total fright; the knowledge that they would most likely die soon did not sit well with them at all.

The buzzing arrows rained down on them but were deflected by some kind of an invisible barrier. After a few shots the archers stopped and stared in turmoil; they watched with terror. How could they hope to