Instruments of War

By Marcus Trumm

These are troubling times. The kingdom is not as it was, and not as it should be.

Yes, Havenrealm is safe, the invaders have been defeated, and their master has been slain.

But King Tharbold has fallen and Malancar, the ambitious Lord of Anchorport, has seized control of the kingdom. Now the people suffer at his hand and Alathor the Wizard must find the way to remove the tyrant from power. But how to restore the Havenrealm of Old without provoking a bloody civil war?

And, although the struggle against evil in the Great Forest was a success, it merely set the stage for the return of Alathor’s arch-rival. The foes the wizard has faced up to now have been but a shadow of what is to come. Foreseeing his eventual defeat, Alathor realizes that he must ensure the ways of the Wizard Council and the study of magic are preserved. He must pass on his knowledge. He must find an apprentice.

It is against this dire backdrop that a man comes to Alathor seeking his help. A man bearing an enchanted sword; a powerful and evil artifact, a Dark Blade. Now, Alathor must unravel the blade’s secrets and find the way to put an end to its evil.

He must prevent the enemy from recovering his Instruments of War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marcus Trumm
• Release date: May 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463814666

Marcus Trumm

Marcus Trumm is a software engineer in San Antonio, Texas. He grew up in Omaha, Nebraska where he received his Bachelor’s of Science Degree in Computer Science at the University of Nebraska at Omaha.After graduating, he worked as a software development consultant in a variety of industries, including working for ten years in Monterrey, Mexico before settling down in San Antonio where he currently lives with his family.In his free time, Marcus enjoys spending time with his wife and two children. His hobbies include reading, writing and exercising. He is especially fond of jogging, biking, and writing fiction; the last of which has led to Overlord and the Havenrealm Series.

Book preview

Introduction

It was a cool autumn afternoon and the sky was overcast. The mountains loomed ever larger and the grassy fields were still damp from the soft drizzle that had fallen in the morning as Alathor and Melchor made their way down the Great Trade Road toward the Passage of Grayspires. Tired from the long trek across the Heartland and saddened at the sight of the many villages the invaders had destroyed, the mages walked in silence, watching the green swath of grassland before them grow narrower as it entered the Gap. Shortly, the road climbed a low hill and, when they reached its crest, the Passage of Grayspires came into view.

The panorama had changed drastically since the last time the wizards had traveled this route, and they paused for a moment to take it all in. Ahead, the rolling grasslands no longer flowed unobstructed through the Gap and into the plains beyond. Now, a mighty stone wall marred the landscape, stretching from the base of the Fortitude Mountains to the sheer face of the Barrier Mountains to the south. The fortifications were nearing completion, closing the Passage of Grayspires and protecting Havenrealm from the possibility of another bloody invasion by the creatures of the Great Forest.

The rampart was a formidable sight. Towering above the field, its massive stone blocks rose so high that even the largest of trolls would not be able to reach the battlements and climb over. And along its entire length the wall was thick enough to support an array of catapults and other war engines on the walkway without hindering the movement of the soldiers. Finally, where the Great Trade Road reached it, a tunnel passed through the bulwark to a heavy wooden gate bound in iron, facilitating trade with the distant kingdoms of the east.

At its southern extreme, where the wall had not yet reached its full height, the men of Havenrealm were hard at work, climbing wooden scaffoldings and hoisting blocks of stone atop the construction to then fit them and cement them in place. Leaving the construction of a garrison until after the wall was complete, the soldiers of Havenrealm camped near the northern end of the fortification and a vast array of tents covered the field in neatly organized rows.

As the wizards approached the camp, Rafelk emerged from among the rows of tents and strode forth to meet them.

Welcome to the Rampart of Halthan’s Watch, the Captain of the Guard greeted the travelers. Your companions are camped behind the soldiers and laborers, where the wall meets the foot of the mountain. I will take you to them.

The Rampart of Halthan’s Watch, Alathor repeated, intrigued. I have also heard it referred to as the Fortitude Barrier, but I think the Rampart of Halthan’s Watch a more fitting name for the fortifications that will protect Havenrealm from the beasts of the forest.

Yes, it was Halthan and his team who warned us of the invasion, giving us time to react and defend ourselves, Rafelk replied. And it was here where they camped after the fall of Farfield.

And it was Halthan himself who slew the shaman, ensuring that another invasion would not soon follow, added Alathor with a nod.

The camp is much larger than I had imagined, Alathor commented as Rafelk led the mages past the rows of tents.

Yes, it is, the soldier responded, and there was a hint of disdain in his voice. Have you not heard of Malancar’s betrayal?

He sent one of his followers with us when we left Havenrealm City, he explained when the mage did not respond. The infiltrator must have slipped away unnoticed during the night before we entered the Heartland. He returned to Havenrealm City to announce that goblins had attacked us and that we had suffered great losses. He claimed that I had sent him as a messenger to request reinforcements and, vowing to protect the city in their absence, Malancar sent the rest of my troops to assist us.

So this is how he gained control of the city, exclaimed the wizard with contempt in his voice. The man speaks with a forked tongue.

Indeed, Rafelk replied, nodding in agreement.

The men fell into silence, the wizard’s gaze lost in the distance as he stroked his beard and pondered the dilemma of Havenrealm City. He needed to remove Malancar from power but he could not see how, not without tearing the kingdom apart. But, for the moment, he had a more pressing problem to attend to.

In an out-of-the-way corner behind the camp, where the rampart reached the near-vertical southern face of the Fortitude Mountains, Falelhur sat by a campfire while Merdahan and Augustin trained with Halthan. Making the most of the dreary afternoon, the three practiced a series of techniques with their swords in the damp grass. Atop the wall, Findilaan and Hilfendil gazed out past the parapets, keeping watch over the Great Trade Road and the lands to the east as the repetitive clang of metal on metal resonated below.

When Rafelk and the wizards emerged from among the rows of tents and joined Falelhur by the fire, the warriors sheathed their blades and gathered around. Soon, hearing Alathor’s deep voice, Findilaan and Hilfendil returned from their lookout post and joined the others.

After greeting the new arrivals and exchanging pleasantries, the friends sat by the fire, eager to learn of Alathor’s plan.

You are all familiar with the series of events that led up to our excursion into the Great Forest, began the mage. The spread of evil in the woods, the fall of Farfield, the invasion of Havenrealm, and our mission to seek out and destroy the shaman that had planned this aggression.

But there is much more to this than meets the eye. This is only a small part of a much longer struggle, he continued.

Many generations ago, before the founding of Havenrealm, the Wizard Council watched over the lands to the north and there was peace. But one day, a man arrived and requested to join the Wizard Council, claiming to be a powerful mage and calling himself Tiberius. Knowing nothing of this man nor his intentions, the Council was skeptical. After much deliberation, the wizards informed him that, until such time that he had proved his worthiness, he would be a provisional member of the Council. During this time, he would have neither the right to vote in Council proceedings nor to speak on behalf of the Council.

Our skepticism proved wise. In the years that followed, he disobeyed the Council’s instructions, presenting himself as a member of the Wizard Council and providing advice to the leaders of the region. He sewed lies and deceit, turning the kingdoms of the north against each other. Soon war broke out between several of the larger kingdoms and we realized the extent of Tiberius’ meddling. When dealing with the rulers of the diverse realms, he had secretly convinced them to build a complex web of pacts and alliances. Then, once the fighting had begun, all were quickly pulled into the conflict.

Then, after they had grown weak from fighting one another, Tiberius revealed himself as the Sorcerer Unglesh, Lord of Darkness. He cast his dark magic across the battlefields of the north and the slain rose up to serve him. At the head of this army of the undead, Unglesh prepared to conquer the region, but first he came before the Wizard Council and demanded that we swear allegiance to him.

The battle was furious. Melchor and I were mere apprentices at the time and the sorcerer paid us no mind while he fought the seven senior members of the Council. But, knowing that our magic was not strong enough to penetrate his defenses and smite him, while the battle raged I prepared a glyph of entrapment in the hallway leading out of the Council’s chamber. Finally, when Unglesh came for us, Melchor and I feigned our retreat until we had lured him onto the glyph. Then, we cast a Banishment spell which, augmented by the glyph, cast him out of our world and exiled him to another space and time.

Without their leader, the undead returned to their eternal rest and we believed that this dark tale had come to an end.

However, seven years ago, a young magician named Arensil came across a map to Dreadmoor, Unglesh’s tower of old, and led a band of adventurers through the Great Forest to explore it. They recovered Unglesh’s spell book but, on their way back across the forest, the Orcs of the Bloody Skull attacked them. The adventurers were defeated, Arensil was slain, and the spell book was lost, finding its way to the shaman.

In the years that followed, the shaman studied Unglesh’s spell book and grew far more powerful than it ever could have imagined possible. And, as the shaman’s power grew, creatures of evil were drawn to it. Soon the Great Forest had become a dark and feared place.

The others sat mesmerized as the wizard described the events leading up to their fateful journey into the Great Forest.

Eventually, the beast enticed the orc and goblin tribes throughout the forest to pledge allegiance to it. And, drawing from their combined strength, it mustered an army to destroy Farfield and invade Havenrealm, Alathor continued.

Now, we have defeated the invaders, the shaman is no more, and the spell book is in our custody. But we must rid the woods of the shaman’s apprentices lest they grow in power and carry out their master’s plan. To this end, we shall seek out the orc tribes, infiltrate their lairs, and vanquish their shamans, the wizard concluded with resolve in his voice.

This would be a challenging undertaking. The Great Forest was a dangerous place, the orc tribes hidden in its depths were many, and sneaking through their dark, dank caves was fraught with risk. Yet, the companions understood the urgency of the wizard’s plan. Everything they had accomplished, the fight to repel the invaders and the struggle to defeat Malglat, was for naught if they did not destroy the orc shamans of the forest.

The others nodded in agreement, approving of their leader’s plan. And, while they spoke among themselves about the mission, Rafelk stepped forward to address the mage.

In the interest of further reducing the orcs’ strength and increasing security along the Great Trade Road, allow me to propose an addition to your plan. And, in as much as I can, permit me to contribute to its success, he began. In addition to destroying the shamans, take a contingent of my soldiers, lead them against the orcs, and drive them from this southernmost corner of the woods.

We have not the strength and supplies to wage war on the beasts throughout the depths of the forest. But if we can secure the region that borders the road, trade and commerce will more readily resume along the Great Trade Road, and our people will prosper, Rafelk asserted.

I thank you for your support, my friend replied Alathor, taken aback by the captain’s proposal and momentarily at a loss for words.

This would allow the wizard to take the fight against evil much further than he had imagined possible. It would help him push darkness back and restore the light. It would permit a return to the world before the rise of Malglat.

In the days that followed, the companions scoured the southwestern corner of the Great Forest searching for the lair of the orcs that infested that region of the woods. It was slow and tiring work but after nearly a week they came across something of interest. Obeying the shaman Malglat’s instructions to keep watch on the men at the Passage of Grayspires, the orc patrols had followed the same route to the Gap for many days, trampling the vegetation to the point where even the men of the group could distinguish a path in the dim forest light. It skirted the foot of the Fortitude Mountains through the woods and, less than a half day’s journey north of the forest’s edge, climbed the base of the mountains to where the slope approached the tree line. There, a crevice extended into the woods from the mountain above, concealing a cave that delved deep into the mountainside and housed the Orcs of the Crimson Moon.

Several days later, the adventurers returned leading an army from the Rampart of Halthan’s Watch against the Orcs of the Crimson Moon. The campaign was long and difficult. The soldiers quickly advanced deep into the orc tunnels but soon found warfare underground to be much more challenging than expected. Their foes would put up a fierce fight and then retreat deep into their caves, only to circle around the soldiers and attack their flank. To avoid being encircled and trapped, the men soon learned that whenever they reached an intersection or branch in a cave they needed to wait for reinforcements and ensure that they could hold the intersection before exploring the passages beyond. Progress was slow and tedious in this fashion but the men under Alathor’s charge pushed onward. They advanced deeper and deeper under the Fortitude Mountains until, after several months of fighting, they defeated the orcs and the wizards easily vanquished their shaman.

In the months that followed, the wizards and their companions combed the southwestern end of the woods in search of additional orc tribes. And each time they found one, they led a contingent of Rafelk’s soldiers against the beasts. The campaign was grueling, challenging the men’s resolve. But the scenario that had played out in the den of the Orcs of the Crimson Moon was repeated again and again. For weeks, the soldiers would wage an arduous offensive into the depths to defeat the orcs, and then the wizards would overthrow the shaman.

With time, it became more and more difficult to find creatures of darkness in this southwestern extreme of the forest. Soon, trade and travel along the Great Trade Road flourished and, deeming the campaign a success, Rafelk’s troops returned to the Fortitude Barrier. But Alathor and his friends continued the struggle against the shamans in the rest of the woods on their own. First, the mage led his companions to the orc lair where they had sought refuge from the storm during their first journey through the Great Forest. This time they did not wage war against the entire tribe, but proceeded as they had in the den of the Orcs of the Bloody Skull, seeking out the tribe’s shaman and destroying it.

Over the years to come, Alathor would return to his tower often to search the forest with the seeing stone. On several occasions, he traveled to Havenrealm City disguised as an old scribe, since neither members of the Paladin Order nor the Wizard Council were welcome in the city. There, he scoured the city archives for the accounts of previous explorers of the Great Forest, looking for any piece of information that could help him deduce the location of additional orc tribes.

The campaign continued. The team located and defeated many shamans, and it became ever more difficult to find their next opponent. On several occasions, they infiltrated orc lairs and the elves spent days sneaking through their tunnels only to find that the tribe did not have a shaman. After their master’s demise, several of the shamans had been killed in the inter-tribe power struggle that had followed. In other cases, orc chieftains had decided that their shamans were growing too powerful and had ordered them killed.

After many years, the team decided that their struggle against Malglat’s apprentices had been a success and that it would be futile to continue searching for the few, if any, that may remain hidden in the depths of the forest. The Shaman Wars came to a close. Halthan returned to the service of Rafelk at the wall bearing his name, and the elves returned to Serenindale. By this time, Falelhur, Augustin and Merdahan had reached an age when most paladins retire to Arnonsul to contribute to the Order with their wisdom and advice rather than with their swords. On their way back to the Valley of the Mages, Alathor and Melchor accompanied the paladins on their last journey across the Heartland and bade them farewell.

Over the years, Havenrealm had evolved into two separate provinces. From Havenrealm City, Malancar ruled the lands of the north, including Forloren and the northern edge of the Heartland. After seizing control, he had increased taxes in the name of the reconstruction effort, and he had established a tight grip on the capital city. He had assigned people loyal to him to positions of power and placed soldiers from Anchorport in charge of the army.

Realizing that life in Havenrealm City would no longer be what it had been before, many of the city’s guildsmen and skilled laborers soon left to seek prosperity in the south. As a result, trade diminished and, although the realm remained strong, life for the common man was noticeably more difficult than it had been under King Tharbold.

From time to time, Alathor would take a break from his studies to go to the Chamber of Farsight and use the seeing stone to observe the happenings in Havenrealm City. This was partially out of concern for the people of the city, for he knew that their lives had changed for the worse when Malancar came to power. But it was also with the hope that he would see something that would guide his next steps; some clue that would answer the remaining question that plagued him. After using the seeing stone to travel across the plains to the city gates, he would visit the city’s many guilds, wander through the market, and even visit the palace, observing the people of Havenrealm City and looking for some inkling of how to remove Malancar from the throne.

But, to his dismay, Alathor did not find what he sought. Although the people of Havenrealm City had no love for their leader, the wizard found no one who openly spoke out against him. On the contrary, Malancar kept a close eye on the city and could ensure that no opposition would gain a foothold among the population. As a result, Havenrealm City’s residents lived in quiet resignation. Furthermore, Malancar spent most of his time in the safety of his well-guarded palace. And when he ventured beyond its walls, he did so with a strong contingent of his personal guards. More and more, as the wizard analyzed the situation, it appeared that the only way to free Havenrealm from Malancar’s rule would be through armed conflict. However, knowing the impact a civil war would have on the people of Havenrealm, Alathor was not willing to go that far; preferring instead to continue watching and waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

In the south, the communities that had been rebuilt along the Great Trade Road between the North Road and the Passage of Grayspires had fared better than their counterparts in the north. Adhering to the agreement made at the last meeting of the Royal Court in Havenrealm City, they had formed a ruling council. This council included Rafelk, several paladins, and a handful of representatives from diverse sectors of society. And from Anenhelm, one of the larger communities near the Rampart of Halthan’s Watch, they worked to ensure the well-being and prosperity of their people.

In the first few years after the construction of the rampart, the towns and villages in this small stretch of land had grown in population as their countrymen from the north settled in the region. The skills they brought had strengthened the economies of these communities and, situated along the Great Trade Road, commerce had flourished. Life in this small nation, often referred to as Southrealm, could not be compared with what its inhabitants had known before the Shaman Wars, but they were prosperous, free, and safe from harm.

These two states of Havenrealm were not openly hostile. However, they were deeply suspicious of one another and their only contact consisted of minimal trade across the Heartland, which had deteriorated into a sparsely populated no man’s land. In addition, the elves remained as isolated and distant as ever. After returning to Serenindale, Findilaan had proposed to the Council of Elders that their people open up and interact with the inhabitants of the lands beyond their forest. Unfortunately, with the news of Malancar’s treachery and the resulting division of the kingdom, it had been easy for those who feared the outside world to justify their isolationist ways. This had disappointed Alathor but over the years he had learned to accept it. He had believed it would be necessary for man-kind and elf-kind to unite and work together to overcome the evils he had foreseen in the seeing stone. But perhaps this would not be needed; since the shaman’s defeat, these visions had ceased to plague the wizard.

The Ways of Wizards

Having completed his campaign against the shaman’s apprentices, Alathor returned to his old way of life. With scrolls and ancient texts scattered before him, he would spend long hours seated at the sturdy wooden table in his study, working to strengthen his mastery of the magical arts. Spending most of his days immersed in his studies, the wizard seldom left his tower. Occasionally, he would visit Melchor on the other side of the valley but, aside from an occasional trip beyond the valley to buy supplies, the mage had little contact with the outside world.

On the other side of the Valley of the Mages, Melchor also spent his days immersed in his studies. At first, he would leave the valley on occasion, to journey to Southrealm or assist the paladins on a mission. But often, when he was far from his tower, he would recall the shaman Malglat’s dark spell book locked in a wooden chest in his alcove. And he would worry what evils would befall the world if it were to fall into the wrong hands. On occasions, this thought would keep him awake at night, and every day he was away would seem an eternity. Soon, every time he returned to his tower after even a brief journey, the first thing he would do was to go to his alcove, unlock the chest, and verify that the spell book was still there.

Fool that I was to leave it unprotected for so many years while we fought the Shaman Wars, he said to himself as he opened the chest after one particularly long voyage to the south. Such power left unguarded.

With time, the frequency of Melchor’s excursions beyond the Valley of the Mages diminished and soon he grew hesitant to even leave his tower to purchase food and basic supplies near the entrance to the valley. He spent his days in his study, surrounded by books and scrolls, but the spell book was seldom far from his mind. Often, he would interrupt his studies to go to his alcove, open the chest, and observe the spell book, perhaps running his fingers over its worn cover before returning to his study. Eventually, he moved the chest to his study and placed it against the wall where he could see it from the table where he spent most of his time.

Then, one day he grew tired of locking and unlocking the chest so often and he reasoned that the chest did little to protect the book. He retrieved a bookstand from the back of his study and placed it near the table. He removed the spell book from the chest to place it on the pedestal. But, as he did so, it slipped from his hands and fell open on the floor. The wizard bent over to pick it up and, as he did so, he observed the page to which the book had opened. It had a circular emblem with several runes around it alongside a long section of text in one of the ancient languages that wizards and sorcerers use to record their spells. He paused for a moment and held the book aloft, sure that he had seen this symbol before. Then, instead of closing the book before placing it on the pedestal as he had planned, he left it open to that page and