Exordium: Bone, Stone, and Wood, #1

By Blake R. Wolfe

A young man will do anything to save his ailing mother, but when he accidentally stumbled on the power of long-dead gods, his entire world is thrown into turmoil. With monsters at his back and murderous soldiers ahead, he must fight to save himself and the things he holds dear.

 

The world of Lycoris is dying. After the gods perished centuries ago the world has slowly been slipping into darkness and ruin. In their place the king has created his Holy Knights, those who execute anyone caught using magic in the name of the gods. Under their rule all the kingdom is slowly starving to death, their populations dwindling across the years.

 

A young man, Nox Vitalis, makes a living by selling scrap from the ancient ruins to the soldiers for their armor and weapons. However, his mother is deathly ill and running out of medicine. With no other way to make money and the nearby ruins running dry, Nox delves into an ancient city deep underground, hoping to find a payday. Instead he finds an artifact of the gods and it becomes permanently affixed to his skin. Unable to get rid of it and pursued by the undead guardians of the city, Nox must find his way out and back to his home.

 

Can Nox make it back to his family in time or will the horrors of the ancient world rend him from the mortal coil?

 

Buy Exordium and start your adventure today!

Exordium is the first novel in the epic fantasy adventure series "Bone, Stone, and Wood". If you like sarcastic characters, magical animal companions, emotional twists, and powerful reveals, then you'll love Blake R. Wolfe's adventure-packed story. Great for fans of Dungeons and Dragons, Critical Role, and Vox Machina.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blake R. Wolfe
• Release date: Sep 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201494414

Blake R. Wolfe

Blake spends most nights with his laptop pulled close, clacking away on the keyboard to get the next great idea written down. Surrounded by piles of notebooks, journals, and a cat of course, he does his best to keep his brain on the task at hand. Blake has published across multiple genres, but prefers the fantasy realm to all others. He is a beach bum during the summer, a wannabe yogi, and an avid Muppets fan. Seriously. You can sign up for new releases, giveaways, and freebies on his website.

Book preview

One

Year 712 Post-Decimation

Pulling himself to the top of the rocky cliff, the man stopped to lean against a solitary tree, pulling the waterskin from his pack and taking a long drink. Sweat gathered on his brow and he wiped it away. At last, he’d found the entrance to the Hollow.

He glanced back down the cliff, paranoid that someone was following or that he’d be attacked by someone hiding in the mountain forest near the ancient city’s secret entrance. Hunger and struggle had driven him to the forbidden ruins that no others would dare enter. Rumors of undiscovered riches that lay just inside had circled through the small town he called home. If they were true, they would finally free him from the life of poverty he’d always known. Besides, there was nothing left to go home to. The ruins were his last hope.

Metal and other minerals were rare in the outskirts of the kingdom thanks to the king's neverending crusades and outfitting his hordes of soldiers. Most of the ancient cities above ground had been picked clean, but the underground ruins had been left mostly untouched. And for good reason. The world below was teeming with danger. A massive set of interconnected tunnels, caverns, and roadways known as the Hollow, made it easy to travel for both the scroungers and the monsters that called that deep place home. But the man didn’t care, he was tired of starving half to death, never making enough coin for a full meal and sleeping on rotting rags that stank of mold. The struggle of everyday life was enough to drive him mad and so he’d made up his mind at last to do something about it once and for all.

A few days' journey had found him at the entrance of a long forgotten city where the plains and mountains met. It was hidden amongst the trees and rocks, then up a sheer cliff face. The cave was nearly impossible to spot, but he’d been determined and continued his search. Eventually he was able to locate it high up the cliff on the western side of the mountain with a single tree growing near its entrance. Just as the sun was setting he stepped inside the cavern, finding the hidden arch within it.

To his surprise he found the ruins mostly abandoned as he traveled deeper within. He'd heard so many stories of monsters lurking within that he never expected to make it through the first hour. But he did. He’d taken his time sifting through the ancient bodies crumbling to dust inside the ruined city, taking only the most valuable bits off their persons, knowing he could come back for the rest later. As he delved further, he left marks behind, pointing the way back through the maze of tunnels. After a few hours of exploring he came across a strange room at the end of a curving hallway.

The air was damp and filled with hazy light. A carved hole in the ceiling let in a single shaft of sunlight illuminating a shallow pool in the middle of the room. In the center grew a small tree, no more than a sapling, its roots winding around a crystalline structure like an island peppered with moss and lichen. A few lilypads floated on the surface of the water, their light pink flowers in full bloom, the sweet smell of nectar filling the cavern. The air was fresher and the man breathed it in hungrily.

A silvery flash caught the man’s eye. Something seemed to be sticking out of the crystal stone island, an unnatural shape coated in a thick layer of moss. Confident that he was still safe and alone, he kicked off his boots. He waded into the water without a second thought, heading for the small tree at the center, ripping the lilies aside as he went. The water rose nearly to his chest by the time he reached the crystal, soaking his clothing and making him shiver. He clambered up the stone, moss tearing off in large chunks as he struggled to get a good grip. With one hand gripping the sapling, he pulled himself the rest of the way up to get a better look.

At the top of the crystal was a small metallic cylinder, no thicker than his wrist and less than two feet long, resting inside a perfectly carved nook. It was almost as if the crystal had grown around it. He brushed away the moss revealing strange shapes and runes carved across its surface. The markings held no meaning to him, but he knew they were ancient. To his surprise the metal was untarnished without a speck of rust or decay and it shone brilliantly in the sunlight.

The shimmering surface of the cylinder made his heart race. Although he’d never seen platinum in person, he knew that’s what it must be judging by its lack of tarnish and radiant brilliance even deep underground. It was surely worth more money than he’d seen in his entire life. Enough to live happily for the rest of his days and then some. He tore it from the stonel, the delicate crystalline points growing around its base snapping as he wrenched the cylinder free. Leaning back he held it up to the sunlight, admiring the shimmer of the platinum and imaging what his life was going to be like from that day forward. Endless days of luxury, women, and food awaited him as soon as he found a buyer. Maybe even the king himself would be interested. All he had to do was get back to the surface. It wouldn’t take long.

A bone-like snap echoed around the cavern as the sapling in his hand suddenly lost all its tension. With no chance to react, he fell backward, splashing loudly into the pool below. When he broke the surface, gasping for air, he could still hear the echoes of the water in the distance, reverberating off the cavern walls. With the cylinder still clutched tightly in his hand, he trudged to the edge of the pool and flopped down on the ground, cold water streaming from his hair and clothes. Peeling off his clothing, he wrung them out as best as he could, shivering in the cold underground air. Knowing they would never dry in the cave, he pulled them back on and tucked the cylinder into his pack. The path to the surface would only take a couple of hours if he followed his trail. Once he was outside he’d stop and dry himself properly in the summer sun. With his boots he’d left on shore being the only dry thing he had left, he set off into the ruins once more, looking for the markers he'd left behind to guide his way, the used torch back in his hand.

He’d grown accustomed to the dark, but as he ventured further he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Goosebumps erupted across his body as the feeling of being watched washed over him. The torch had grown low and began to sputter as he looked around for any sign of movement. Stopping in his tracks he reached into his pack and produced his last remaining torch. To his dismay, the other went out with a small pop before he could light it. Trying not to panic, he reached back into his bag for his flint, having only his sense of touch to guide him in the overwhelming darkness. He found it at last and with a few strikes of the stone the new torch burst into life. The flame slowly grew larger to illuminate the oppressive darkness, but somehow it seemed to have lost its previous brightness. He held it up, turning on the spot to search for the source of his anxiety. But there was nothing to be seen. Still unconvinced he was alone, he kept the torch held high and doubled his pace, trying to get out of the ruins as fast as possible.

Ten minutes later he found himself lost in the darkness, unable to find his next marker. Turning around several times without finding anything familiar, he felt the panic rise up in his chest. He’d clearly marked the path with small piles of stones, easily seen in the middle of the tunnel. However, none had come across his sight, almost like they’d been removed. Even in the dark he would’ve been likely to trip over them, but there was nothing. The cavern itself looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t be sure since every stone looked nearly the same. Had he turned the wrong direction without noticing? The first marker had been easy to find, but none had shown up after it. By his recollection he should have come across three already before taking a set of stairs upward. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself. Thankfully the torch was far from going out. However, the feeling of being watched was growing steadily stronger until his skin was crawling as if covered in thousands of tiny beetles. Every few moments he scratched at himself unconsciously, trying to rub the feeling away. He had to find a way out soon if he wanted to stay sane.

A low rasping breath sounded behind him, causing him to startle and nearly drop the torch. Spinning on his heel he saw only darkness. But as his eyes focused in the gloom he saw something else that caused terror to streak through his body. A pair of deep blue glowing eyes without irises floated in the dark a few feet away. As they looked up at him they flashed, growing bright enough to show the faint outline of a gaunt face with sunken hollows for eyes. Before he could react the creature took a step forward into the torchlight. Its form was skeletal and rotten, dry skin stretched across its bones like the head of a drum. Mushrooms, moss, and lichen grew across its form, spreading onto the long rusted armor that still clung to disintegrating leather straps. The joints ground together under the skin and the bones rattled against one another. It was a draugr of the underworld, something he’d only heard about in campfire horror stories. Something that was supposed to be purely mythical.

Thief... the draugr hissed slowly, stretching the word out as it took another step.

The man was too stunned to speak.

The clavis... cannot leave... this city... it creaked, the mandible barely moving, nearly frozen in place by time and rot.

W-what? What a-are you t-talking about? the man stuttered back, the torch shaking in his grasp. W-whatever it is, you c-can have it!

The draugr drew a sword from its decaying belt, the blade rusty and chipped, giving it an almost serrated edge. It pointed the weapon at the man, no sign of emotion crossing its rotting face.

Death... is the price... for thievery from... the one and true god.

Before he had a chance to move, the draugr struck out, the blade catching the man across the shoulder. Yelping in pain he dropped the torch. The sword tore through the cloth and flesh, severing the muscle that held his arm up. The torch clattered to the ground, rolled across the stone floor, and doused itself in a puddle that had formed under one of the ceiling’s slow drips.

The cavern went dark in an instant. But it wasn’t just darkness, it was the kind of all consuming nothing that can only be felt deep underground where the eyes no longer function and the air seems as thick as water. There the man stood, trembling and groping at his useless bleeding arm, drowning in his own fear. The hot wetness on his sleeve told him he’d been cut deeply. Without any light, he had no idea how bad it might be since his senses were no longer working and fear was consuming his entire being. He looked around wildly, trying to find any hint of the draugr, but his eyes weren’t yet accustomed to the pitch black surrounding him. A raspy laugh echoed off the walls, filling the tunnel and his ears to the brim.

The earth... thirsts... for your blood, the rattling voice said.

The thief turned on the spot toward the voice. As his gaze fell on the dark blue crackling energy of the creature’s eyes glowing in the dark, inches away from his own. He barely had time to suck in a breath before he felt a searing pain in stomach as if he were being torn in half. Then there was nothing. Everything below his ribs suddenly went numb and he found himself being held up by the monster, his legs no longer responding to his commands. He thought of the cylinder in his pack and all the plans he had to live a good life. The lavish parties, the booze, the food, and the whores. All of it would have been so grand if he’d just made it out of the ruins with his prize.

The man’s ears perked up to the unexpected sound of music, like a tavern piano playing at the back of the room. The darkness in front of him faded, a warm glow of firelight filling his mind. He clung to it, nearly smelling the roasting meat and the stale stench of ale soaked into the floorboards. Laughter rang through as the scene began to take form, a busty barmaid holding out her hand to him. Maybe he’d have his party after all, one he could stay at for all eternity.

Blankly staring into the glowing eyes of the draugr, his mind gently coaxed him into death as its final act of mercy. He slowly slipped into a permanent darkness from which he would never recover, the music still ringing in his ears.

Two

Year 983 Post-Decimation

A swift breeze cut across the sun drenched plains as Nox sucked in a deep breath. He could smell the sweetness of grass going to seed in the midsummer heat and the wildflowers bursting into bloom. Gold and green stalks waved and flittered, filling the world with the roar of plant leaves rubbing against one another. It was deafening and tranquil all at the same time, the kind of sound a person could get lost in if they just closed their eyes. Nox tilted his head back and did just that, letting the world swallow him up for a moment, adrift in the symphony of nature.

He wished he could stay out there all day just taking in the beauty of the world, but he had a job to do if he and his bed-ridden mother wanted to eat again. Heaving a sigh he opened his eyes, looking out across the Jade Lowlands at the sea of grass dotted by pockets of forest. On the western edge lay the tail end of the mountains, low and eroded from thousands of years of rain and snow. The mountains were absolutely off limits since he wished to continue living, the home of the forbidden ruins. However, in the middle of a large forest to the southwest was what looked to be a tall tree soaring above the rest, but he knew better. It was a vine coated tower and his destination. It stretched above the surrounding trees, most of the stone having crumbled away long ago only to be replaced by plant life. Nox set his sights on it, tapped the butt of his spear a couple of times on the ground, and headed in its direction.

Under the dilapidated tower was a series of ruins strewn through the trees. They were nothing but crumbling stone and plants, worthless to him. But below the ruins was a maze of ancient dungeons. He’d delved into them on a few occasions, usually coming back with enough scrap metal to garner a few coins. Usually he could stretch the meager income to feed himself and his mother for a month or more, but sometimes she needed medicine, so they came up short. The past month had been one of those times and the doctor was never cheap. Nox didn’t hold it against her though, she made herself guilty enough without any help. And, if he was being honest, he liked getting away from the slums and out on his own for a little while.

Even though it was a dangerous and dirty way to live, scrounging had kept them alive so far. Many times he’d thought about heading off into the wilderness in search of a place to call his own, finding a place where he and his mother could live off the land away from the city. But like everywhere else in Lycoris, life was scarce and the wilderness was dangerous. Wild game was a rare sight in the Jade Lowlands and the forests themselves provided little nourishment. There were animals somewhere, he was sure, but they knew to avoid the plains and woods near the city of Kald. Many of the people in the city, like Nox, were desperate for food and coin, trapping or killing anything that got too close as fast as they could. In the past couple of years the largest creature Nox had seen in town was a rat and they often ended up skewered and roasted for passersby. In his opinion, they weren’t too bad for a quick meal, but he hated picking the little bones clean. But he was too poor to be particular, so rat it was.

The walk to the ruins took little more than an hour from his hilltop. Inside the trees the wind was muted and the sounds of the grass died away. It was almost unsettlingly quiet with no animals about, but over the years Nox had grown used to it and even came to enjoy the silence. Now and again the cry of a bird would draw his attention upward and very rarely he’d catch a flash of blue or red as they darted between branches. The trees themselves grew tall and imposing, some of their trunks wider than his outstretched arms. The canopy high overhead was dense, blocking out all traces of sunlight. As he walked through, his footsteps silenced by the thick layer of mulch on the ground, he caught sight of broken stones swallowed up by roots. Eventually they shifted from errant stones to broken walls, arches, and crumbling structures, indicating he was entering the outskirts of the ruins.

When the canopy finally began to open up, he knew he was near the center. Glancing upward, the sky was pierced by a tall tower with sunlight spilling across a wide clearing. The tower itself was covered in thick vines and sun drenched leaves, curling up toward the sky in search of more root holds that had long crumbled away. He assumed the plants were the only things still holding the ancient structure upright. He was thankful it hadn’t yet fallen since the base of it held the entrance to the dungeons and his current income.

Pushing his way through the underbrush that clustered in the sunlight, Nox made his way across the clearing to the base of the tower. The wooden door had long since disintegrated leaving behind nothing but worthless rusted scraps of metal that had nearly turned to dust thanks to rain and snow. As he passed through the arched doorway he glanced up at the ceiling covered in vines. It hadn't changed since his last trip there a few weeks ago. He pulled his threadbare pack off his back and reached inside, producing a small torch. A few flicks of his flint set it alight and he shouldered the pack once more, ready to fill it with as much as he could carry. Taking a deep breath he stumbled down the stairs and into the darkness, using his spear to keep his balance on the deteriorating stone steps. He hoped his secret cache still lay in wait for him. His mother’s cough had yet to subside and he was depending on it for her medicine.

The depths of the ruins hadn’t changed much since his last visit, although he found a few more places where stones had tumbled inwards, breaking off the ceiling or walls. Rooms passed by him on either side, filled only with the sound of soft drips from the ceiling. It had been nearly a thousand years since people had lived within the ruins before the Decimation. What type of people, he wasn’t sure, but a few clues remained behind. The tower stood atop a series of holding cells and barracks, their iron bars corroding away and only a few traces of the beds left within them. Storage areas with broken clay pots and a single large room that looked to once be a kitchen proved that people had actually lived there at one point. What remained behind gave him the impression of a small city or outpost, but little could be gleaned beyond that. Most everything had been lost to the slow march of time.