The Shadow of Narwyrm: Rangers of Laerean, #3

By Tom Fallwell

The world of Hir now stands on the brink of war with the demonic Manenase and their massive horde of Morok minions. Baric and his friends journey to the haunted Ghost Swamp to find the lost Amulet of Thiranor, which holds the key to stopping Doomrage, once and for all.

In the epic conclusion to the Shadows Trilogy of the Rangers of Laerean series, much lore from the ancient past is learned, while the shadow of the great Dragon Spirit, Narwyrm, looms over them all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Essentia Press
• Release date: Dec 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393016076

Tom Fallwell

Early in his life, Tom Fallwell discovered a love for the wonderful escape into realms undreamed of through books of Fantasy and Science-Fiction. Weaned on greats like J.R.R. Tolkien, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert E. Howard, Roger Zelazny, Robert A. Heinlein, and Michael Moorcock, to name a few, Tom's imagination was forever inspired by those marvelous tales.One day, he discovered a simple book of medieval battle rules called Chainmail, by Gary Gygax, and found a new love. The love of creating adventures and stories of his own for other players to experience. Chainmail evolved into Dungeons & Dragons, and Tom played consistently with friends as both a player and a dungeon master (DM). Such activities fueled his desire to create worlds and stories from his own imagination.Now retired after a long career as a software developer, Tom now writes about all the adventures and characters that constantly fill his mind, and gleefully shares them with the world.

Book preview

Prologue

Isenjen 9, 2027 F.E.

The air had a crispness to it, proclaiming that it was nearing the end of Summer and that Autumn was just around the corner. Yet the flowers were still blooming, the trees green and a warm breeze blew softly from the south; Summer would not give up so easily. It was a beautiful and balmy day at the foot of the Frostfel Mountains, where the Andmar Estuary began its long trek south towards the Great Mandabar River.

The headwaters of the Andmar Estuary were hardly more than a rill coming down from the Frostfels as a long, narrow waterfall, behind which was hidden an obscure passage that led to a large cave deep in the mountains. A secret lair of the Grom’shikar, or what was left of them. Inside were all that remained of that black cult, barely a hundred men and women, mostly human, but some Vaar’da, Draldur and even Zumarian. All of them were pledged to the great Dragon Spirit, Narwyrm, the Spirit of Death and Devastation.

The rest of the survivors of that shadowy organization of assassins had fled and blended back into the population, abandoning their pledge and forgetting they had ever been a part of the evil cult. Most had been killed when discovered by the authorities, who now had a magical means to detect their affiliation with shadows and had been systematically hunting them down and eradicating them across Lower Hir. Those gathered here were all that remained of those loyal to the ideals of the group, founded by Captain Grimred. But he was no longer among the living, having been defeated by the recently appointed High Warden of Elsu.

Inside the large cave, a circle had been formed by the loyalists to pray and petition Narwyrm for guidance. They were currently chanting their favored declaration, affirming their dedication to Narwyrm and hoping for a response from their master. The chanting was continuous and consistent, and had been going on for over an hour. The entire circle recanted the words in unison, the arcane words that declared they were in the shadow of the dragon. Grom Nar. Grom Nar. Grom Nar ...

At first, none of them perceived the growing darkness that slowly fell across the assemblage, but as it became more and more pronounced, some noticed. They continued their reverent chanting as they watched the shadows of the cavern flow toward the center of the circle to become a whirlwind of swirling mists. The hazy mixture of black and wine colors shifted in tortured ways, causing a queasiness to the stomachs of those gathered in the circle.

The spinning blackness began to take shape, coalescing into the dark form of a robed figure hovering just inches above the cavern floor with arms outstretched. The dark-hooded figure’s head was bowed, keeping the face hidden, but the hands protruding from the robe were dark-skinned and delicate, the hands of a female. The figure taking shape before them was no more than five feet in height.

As her head raised, revealing her face, a pair of pale-blue, almond-shaped eyes could be seen, then the soft pink lips of a woman with a golden-brown face that was both exotic and alluring. She continued to hover in the air before them, in the center of their circle, and a soft voice came forth from her lips.

Your prayers have been heard, said the woman, whose features clearly showed her to be of the Vaar’da race. Her voice was soft and spoken with an emotionless tone.

Who are you? asked one of the men in the circle.

Still showing no emotion or indication of recognition of those present, she spoke as if in a trance, her eyes staring straight ahead as if gazing into the distance. Who I am is not as important as why I am here. I am but a whisper of the one who sent me.

Why are you here? Who sent you? the same man asked in response.

You have pledged your lives to Narwyrm, the magnificent Spirit of the Dragon, have you not?

Many in the circle nodded their heads in ascent, some even murmuring the words, Grom Nar. Still, a few felt a tenacious fear crawl up their spines, the air around them seeming to become frigid and close.

You are all in the master’s shadow; in the Shadow of Narwyrm. He has heard your petitions and prayers, and has sent me to give you his will, his desire.

We’re ready to receive. Command us, master, said several, not yet realizing the fate that awaited them.

You are pledged to his service, and he has need of you. Doomrage, the child of Narwyrm, must have souls to power his portal magic to enter the physical realm. You owe Narwyrm your souls, and I have come to collect them ... Her eyes now focused on those in the circle before her and a malicious smile formed on her soft lips. ... for Doomrage.

With that declaration, still hovering above the floor, she began to slowly spin, arms still outstretched. It took a few moments for some to realize just what her declaration meant, but when they did, they sought to flee what they now understood was a declaration of their deaths. However, they discovered they could no longer move or speak, held in place by a powerful force that was impossible to resist. The Vaar’da messenger spun ever faster and faster, once again becoming a swirling whirlwind of shadows in the center of their circle.

Realizing the truth, they struggled helplessly. They couldn’t even cry out, their mouths sealed shut, as their bodies began to dissolve into cloudy vapors, evaporating into amorphous wisps of smoke and pulled into the tempest of shadows.

All living things in the cave, even that of the rats in the darkened recesses of the cavern, were torn asunder and consumed as the whirling vortex of darkness absorbed every fragment of life within the huge cavern. The maelstrom continued to spin, devouring the souls of the gathered Grom’shikar, until there was nothing left but the fading tornado as it vanished into the shadows of the cavern once more.

Nothing remained, all life consumed. There was an eerie silence as the coals of the fire built by those who once occupied the cave flickered and died, leaving nothing more than a hollow den of desolation.

Chapter 1

Isenjen 12, 2027 F.E.

As Baric and Sainsha rode through the gates of Eathiana, the guards had to hold back the press of people. By now, all the people of the Kingdom of Elsu knew Baric was the new High Warden, the leader of the Rangers of Laerean, who were now the main law enforcement contingent of the Kingdom. His station made him answerable only to King Thaed. The curious crowd had gathered with the news of Baric’s arrival.

Only a few months ago, said Baric to Sainsha in a low voice, I was arrested for even trying to enter the city, suspected as a traitor. Funny how things can change so quickly.

Sainsha gave a sharp-toothed smile, her feline face alight with amusement. It has been my observation that your people love their King, and trust his judgement. I do not find their sudden admiration unusual, considering the office you now hold.

Baric, a bearded giant of a man, riding on the back of an equally huge white lion, was indeed an awe-inspiring sight. The children in the crowd stared with eyes and mouths wide open at the image of Ramura, Baric’s leonine companion. Ramura stood five feet high at the shoulder. It was doubtful the people of Eathiana had ever seen a lion at all, let alone one of this size. There were no lions this far north in the lands of Hir. Add to that a muscular man who stood well over six feet in height, and the sight was quite intimidating, to say the least.

Next to him was Sainsha, riding her own lion companion, though Myela was just a normal lion, and she had no long, flowing mane like Ramura’s. Sainsha herself had a lioness look about her, being Zumarian. Her golden fur-covered body was dressed in the typical leather garb of the Rangers, but her blue-green, large-pupiled eyes were characteristic of her race, along with the furry white-tipped ears rising sharply from her head, gave immediate attention to her Zumarian origin.

The two companions rode through the gates and up to the guardhouse. One of the guards came up and briskly saluted Baric.

Welcome back, High Warden. High Wizard Riseja has requested you meet him in his quarters immediately upon your arrival.

Baric nodded to the guard as he and Sainsha dismounted, and the two cats went back out the gate, preferring the wilderness to the strange city. The guards and people didn’t know that Ramura was more than just a big lion, that the Ranger shared a telepathic link with the great cat, and he’d already informed Baric that he and Myela would hunt for now. Baric and Sainsha continued down the road toward the castle of King Thaed.

The spectacle of the lions now removed, many people dispersed, going back to what they were doing before the two Rangers arrived. A few still gawked at them, but kept their distance, and the need for the guards subsided as Baric and Sainsha walked down the main road of the city towards the castle grounds.

Do you think we have seen the last of the Grom’shikar? asked Sainsha with the distinct and formal accent of a denizen of Upper Hir. Zumarians and Vaar’da seldom used contractions when they spoke.

It had been less than a month since the Rangers cleaned out the assassin’s base hidden beneath the city of Laerean. They’d heard nothing more about the dark cult since.

The Day of Chaos, only a few months ago, was still fresh in the minds of the Rangers, even if the people already seemed to be forgetting. A single day that left the rulers of Vaar’da and Nuandril dead, along with hundreds of Rangers and affluent citizens throughout Hir. The assassins of that cult had sought to destroy the Rangers, but they had failed. The Rangers had survived and were now rebuilding their home in Laerean.

There may be stragglers here and there, but I don’t think they’ll be a problem in Elsu any longer, replied Baric. With Ranger patrols now starting throughout the newly formed Kingdom of Elsu, and the magical ability to detect their shadow taint, thanks to you, I think we can concentrate our efforts now on the real problem that remains.

Sainsha nodded slightly, a serious expression now on her face. Doomrage, she all but whispered.

Baric nodded. The last word from Riseja indicated they may have a way to help protect us from the dragon’s deadly fire. I’m hoping that’s enough until we find a way to permanently stop his murderous attacks.

I heard there was another village destroyed, in Mandabar, commented Sainsha.

Yes, Baric sighed, over two hundred dead. Not a single soul survived.

They continued their trek in silence, contemplating the horrific disaster that now faced not only the Kingdom of Elsu, but everyone in Hir. Baric was keenly aware of his failure to stop the dragon when he and Sainsha ventured into the World Between Worlds, only to be ambushed by Grimred, the leader of the Grom’shikar. Grimred was defeated, but they had to flee that realm to escape Doomrage; both were barely alive when Ramura finally came to their rescue.

Entering the castle, they made their way through the elaborate halls to the quarters of the High Wizard, Riseja. The guards outside his chambers immediately recognized them and ushered them in, their arrival expected.

Ah, High Warden, said Riseja, looking up from a text he was reading, sitting in his favorite chair. I’m glad you are here.

Riseja put the text down on a table next to his chair and gestured to two empty chairs in his antechamber. His rooms were quite elaborate and the antechamber was where he generally met with guests. Doors to either side led to other rooms in his quarters.

Baric and Sainsha sat down, waiting for Riseja to speak. He was shorter than either of his visitors, with cherubic features that helped hide his true age, which was considerable. He smiled brightly and folded his hands across the front of his golden-colored robes, which were the symbol of his ranking as High Wizard.

I understand, said Riseja, addressing Baric, that Ramura may know of a weapon we might use to defeat Doomrage. Have you any further information on this?

Baric shook his head. Not yet. Ramura wishes to speak with us together about what he knows. He said it’s something from the past. Beyond that, I’m as curious as you to find out what it may be.

Riseja nodded, then turned to Sainsha with a huge and loving smile. You, my dear magician, have become quite the controversy among the magic circles of late. Your talent is truly amazing. Tima even suggested that one day you may surpass us both, with proper training of course.

If her fur could show a blush, it would have. She gave a humble smile. Thank you, High Wizard. I hope to make all of you proud.

So, what’ve you found to help us against Doomrage? asked Baric.

"Tima and I are working on two new spells. With our combined magical knowledge, and the guidance of He who knows all things, we have great hope that we will succeed. We have made progress, and I feel we are close to completing our research.

One spell will allow us to communicate over long distances instantly. Another is to be a shield against the fiery breath of Doomrage. Our work nears completion and looks encouraging. I am confident we will have results within the next few days.

Riseja looked truly convinced they would succeed. If anyone could come up with such spells, it would be Riseja and Tima. Tima was the High Priestess of King Thaed’s court, and a magician of Wizard ranking herself. The two of them were undoubtedly the most knowledgeable magicians in all Hir. 

So, all we can do now is wait? Baric seemed a bit anxious.

Riseja nodded with a bemused smile. I’m afraid so. Patience, my dear boy, patience. I understand your urge for action, but sometimes it is best to think than rush blindly in to fight.

Baric remembered when he and Sainsha were in the World Between Worlds. They had come upon some creatures that seemed dangerous and deadly at first, only to find out they were friendly. He remembered Riseja telling him, Do not attack without thinking. He nodded to Riseja and smiled, as these memories returned.

They conversed a while longer, then Riseja had the guards take each of them to their prearranged quarters so they could freshen up after their long journey from Laerean. Later that evening, they had dinner with the King and his court, then were dismissed to relax the rest of the evening.

While Sainsha went to visit with Tima, Baric took a stroll out into the garden on the cliffs behind the castle. As he approached a familiar spot under a great tree with a large stone bench, he heard the telepathic voice of Ramura as the great lion walked up from behind.

I trust you had a pleasant evening. Ramura stepped out of the darkness, his white fur all but glowing against the blackness of the night.

A good meal, I suppose. But I hate just sitting around. When’ll you tell me about this weapon you’ve spoken about?

At that moment, Riseja also came walking up to them. Ah, you are here.

Baric nodded to Riseja and looked at Ramura, speaking to him by thought only. You set this meeting up, didn’t you?

Ramura gave an almost imperceptible nod of his huge, maned head. Baric sat down on the bench beneath the tree, as did Riseja. They both looked toward Ramura, who now began to speak to them telepathically.

I’ve some things to tell you both, he began, that must not be spoken to any other. I must ask you both to swear that what you learn from me now will be kept in confidence. The world is not ready for the knowledge I have. Not yet.

Baric and Riseja both nodded, and Ramura continued. "You already know that I’m as old as the world. I was born in the First Era of Hir, in the beginning. You also know that my father is Ashera, The Spirit of the Lion. What you don’t know is that I’m not unique.

What I tell you now must be kept secret. People, of any race, are not ready to know all, and I’m only revealing what I must, to help in this fight against the dragon Doomrage.

Both men grew still, giving Ramura their full attention, and withholding the hundreds of questions that raced through their minds.

When the First Era began, said Ramura, there were no people, no races. He, the creator of us all, had created the Twelve Spirits of Creation, and they in turn did as He commanded and created the world of Hir. The world was populated with all manner of plants and animals, creatures of every kind imaginable, even dragons, but there were no people of any kind. In those days, He allowed the Spirits to intermingle with the creatures of Hir, and from these unions came forth a new type of creature ... the Mythica. I’m one of these creatures, a Mythica. As is Doomrage.

At this revelation, both men felt a sudden surprise and realization. Baric, grasping Ramura’s meaning, said, Then, Doomrage is ... your brother?

Ramura nodded. "In a way, yes. He was not always known by that name. In the beginning, he was Narvanth, the son of Narwyrm. We were there when Narwyrm fell from the grace of He who knows all things, and we took opposite sides in that conflict. The Spirits were forbidden to interfere, but we, the Mythica, were not. Narvanth sided with his father and took control of the Dragons, who, though they were not people like yourselves, had great intelligence and ambition, and were masters of the magic arts.

Narvanth and the Dragons attempted to conquer all of Hir, but I and my fellow Mythica stood against them. For myself, I was gravely wounded in that battle, and barely survived. Narvanth, on the other hand, was destroyed and burned to ashes. His ashes were sealed in an urn, then hidden away by the Mythica. These events came at the end of the First Era. Doomrage and I are both Mythica, and that causes me to feel an inherent responsibility for what is happening today.

Riseja had a thoughtful expression as he listened to these revelations, his hand on his chin. Then he looked up at Ramura. How did Narvanth return as Doomrage?

Baric and Riseja were speaking aloud, not having telepathic abilities like Ramura’s they were forced to speak aloud for each other’s benefit, while Ramura spoke only in their minds.

Ramura continued his tale. "That was in the Second Era, an Era in which new creations were made. Precursor races for those you call Draldur and Vaar’da today, though they were called different names in those times. The Vaar’da were once called Ul’duril, and they had evolved from yet another, more majestic race, called the Nelarwyns. The Nelarwyns were a vastly intelligent and civilized race, masters of magic, building magnificent cities and monuments throughout the lands.

Near the end of the Second Era, a Nelarwyn King named Thiranor, who was a master of magic, lost his wife to an illness. His love and passion for her blinded him to any consequences, driving him to create an artifact of great power, which he used to restore her to life. It was an unnatural thing to do, and the ramifications of his actions proved to be his undoing. The ancestors of the Draldur, known then as the Ba’thu, dug too deep into the earth and found something none had expected ... the demonic and evil Manenase.

Baric nodded, not surprised to discover that the demons were found deep in the earth, after having seen their home under Mount Scorch.

The Manenase, continued Ramura, "driven by visions and dreams imparted to them from Narwyrm, learned of the Amulet of Thiranor as well as the location of the ashes of Narvanth. Eventually, they managed to steal the Amulet and used it to restore life to the son of Narwyrm. Narvanth then took the name of Doomrage and, driven by the evil of his father, led the Manenase to conquer the Nelarwyns and kill King Thiranor. They began a bloody rampage across the lands of Hir, slaughtering all who got in their way.

These events preceded the end of the Second Era. The Era that followed was a time of great sorrow and despair as the Manenase took control of the surface. During this time, Doomrage grew in power, but when his Manenase companion, Bel’aphar, brought on The Great Disruption, Doomrage was transformed into a monstrous creature of shadow and flame, and imprisoned within the core of the earth under Mount Scorch. That was an unexpected setback for Narwyrm’s plans for this world.

Baric let out a long sigh. And when we destroyed the Heart of Bel’aphar, he was released from his prison.

Baric winced at the memory of the Ranger’s quest into the depths of Mount Scorch, to kill the demon Xorilax, a direct descendent of Bel’aphar. They used Xorilax’s heart to destroy the Heart of Bel’aphar, a gem of unspeakable power. It was the Vaar’da woman he loved, Whisper, who had sacrificed her life to save them and the lands of Hir from another Great Disruption.

It also bothered Baric that he had not dreamed about Whisper for many weeks now. He was concerned that she might be lost completely. They knew her soul was still imprisoned by Doomrage, and the dragon was using her soul as fuel to power his portal magic. Previously, he had been having visions, or dreams, of her crying out to him for help. The lack of such dreams now concerned him. He feared her soul would be lost due to his failure in the World Between Worlds.

Yes, said Ramura in reply to Baric’s last statement, but it was inevitable. Narwyrm has been orchestrating these events since his fall, desperately trying to undermine all of creation, to destroy what he’s not been allowed to claim as his own.

Riseja stirred from his thoughts, "So, how do we destroy Doomrage now? Can he be destroyed?"

As you know, continued Ramura, "Doomrage is no longer imprisoned in the core of the earth, but now resides in the realm of shadows, in the World Between Worlds. To attack the physical world, he must come through a portal, and cannot stay for long, but long enough to create utter devastation and death among the people of Hir. Yet, he’s made of shadow and flame, not of any physical substance. Weapons and most magics are useless.

It’s my belief that the artifact, the Amulet of Thiranor, can be used to restore Doomrage to his physical form, a form susceptible to your weapons and spells. While the artifact itself isn’t a true weapon, the results it can bestow may allow us to finally kill Doomrage for good.

Riseja now saw where all this had been heading. You are proposing that we find the lost Amulet of Thiranor, restore Doomrage to a living being, to his original Mythica form, and then kill him? Is that possible?

Ramura nodded. Though we Mythica don’t age, we can be killed just like any other creature. Remember, I barely survived the wounds I received in that war between the Mythica and the Dragons of the First Era.

Ramura did not reveal more about his own mortality, and there were still many things he just felt the people of the Fourth Era were not yet ready to know. The fragile balance between the Zumarians and Vaar’da, for instance. If they knew the truth of their origins, it could be catastrophic.

Do you know where the Amulet is? asked Baric.

Ramura let out a long sigh. Not exactly, but I’ve some clues that we can explore.

Such as ... Baric encouraged.

I told you about the Nelarwyns and their great cities and constructions. In fact, Ramura’s gaze turned to Riseja, knowing the magician would appreciate this information, this castle, in Elsu, was originally constructed by the Nelarwyns in the Second Era.

Amazing! was all that came from Riseja, but his eyes showed his delight in such knowledge.

Anyway, continued Ramura, answering Baric’s original question, "Their capital was a magnificent city, a gleaming jewel in the world in which they lived; the ancient city of Rohirras. I believe the ruins of that city remain in the middle of the