Demons Vengence

Chapter 2

Chapter 2








“If we continue cowering like this we will all starve,” Rakagar, a large young orc, eager for the power of being Chieftain growled.  “Griish is scared of the fair races.  If he leads, this tribe is doomed.” 


Rakagar wanted the support of the other orcs present so when he challenged Griish, the current tribal leader, he couldn’t just dismiss Rakagar and have him killed, with others rallying to his sided, agreeing with his complaints.  In order to stop all arguments Griish would have to accept the challenge. 


Rakagar was confident he could beat Griish; he was bigger, younger and faster.  So what the older orc fought in the Foul War so did thousands of his kind, they lost and were chased into mountains, hiding for decades, scared.  It was a pathetic existence.  But it will soon change, the arrogant orc thought to himself, soon. 


“This night I will make the challenge, no longer will we live in fear, starving in theses cursed mountains!” Rakagar roared to his followers, feeding off his energy, the crowd cheered. 





“Griish!” came a yell from outside the chiefs’ tent, “No longer will we suffer your cowardly leadership, I challenge you.”  What now, the grizzled orc thought, seemed like every couple of years someone was calling him a coward or weak or stupid, it was getting tiresome.  Griish had led the clan for a quarter-century; he was small for an orc barely five foot, wiry and fast.  He was deadly with the sword but hardly ever fought anymore, so the young constantly thought him weak. Under his guidance the clan had prospered.  There numbers doubled, then tripled, but still every few seasons a young-blood called him a few names and he had to kill them, it was counterproductive.  The young don’t remember the crushing force of the Everyrace Army.  Outnumbered a hundred to one there wasn’t a chance.  They fled to the mountains in an effort to survive, to preserve their race.  Still he was a coward in the proud eyes of the young, he ran away.   


Getting out of his chair Griish grabbed his sword and hand axe then walked to the tent door.  Fine, they would die. 


When Griish walked out of his tent and saw Rakagar, he laughed.


“You? You’re a pup.” Chuckled Griish, his newest challenger wasn’t even old enough to have been alive during wars. “Do yourself a favor and withdraw.”


“Do us all a favor a favor and die.” Rakagar retorted, rushing at the older smaller orc.





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Coming to after his fall Jerek was rattled, the last few hours were a blur.  He remembered jumping out of bed but couldn’t recall why, also running but he didn’t remember from what.  Even if he knew where he was, the cave was huge and even in the years he’d been exploring there was miles of cave he never been in.  The room he landed in was large, with several tunnels branching off of it in all directions. 


“Hello” he shouted.


No answer. 


Well I got to do something he decided at last and started looking at the different tunnels leaving the room.  Picking one at random he started off, into the dark.  Marching as carefully as he could, he kept one hand on the wall to keep his balance and his heading.  Not far in he tripped over a large rock protruding from the ground. 


Jerek fell sprawling on the rocky floor of the cave face first, spraining his wrist as he tried so stop his fall.  Cursing he started to get back on his feet. 


In the process of getting up Jereks hand brushed against something small and metallic. Curious of what it was, he started lightly rubbing his hands across the cave floor.  He soon found what felt like a key, about three inches long and heavy for its size, without light he couldn’t tell much more about it.  Shrugging he put it in his pants pocket.  A small flash caught Jereks eye, followed by some sort of soft glow coming from deep down the tunnel. 


“What the hell was that?” Jerek said to himself as he started towards the mysterious glow. 


The tunnel narrowed and the ceiling dropped and rose unexpectedly, causing Jerek to smack his already damaged skull several times.  Cursing to himself Jerek finally reached the light.


It was a pond, or at least it looked like one.  But the reflection on the water was somewhere else.  Climbing onto a large rock Jerek peered into the pool. 


“Strange,” He said out loud “Must be enchanted or something.”


A field of grass was some how reflecting on the surface of the pool, standing in the field was an elf clad in silver armor and carrying a huge sword.  Leaning closer, wanting to make out more detail, Jerek slipped.


Expecting a wet sound and a wetter feeling Jerek was confused when a feeling of vertigo came over him and he felt wind rushing by accompanied by a bright light.  How far away was that pool, he thought.  It seemed like only a foot or so I shouldn’t still be fa-





-SLAM-





That thought was cut short by the sudden impact of Jereks’ head something hard.  Pain flashed through the young boy as the weight of his body caused a vicious jerk to his neck, looking down he saw his back and ass.  That’s not right he thought.  As he blacked out Jerek heard someone say “Your going to need help soon.” Then he heard no more.


     


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“Dervin said he’d be right here,” Vernis Asilvin, an elven warrior, thought out loud.  Still young by elven standards, ninety, he easily grew bored.  And Dervin, unsure of the danger, advised wearing armor, so it was hot.  With a sigh he began looking around for a child he never seen before. 


He trusted the old wizard, who was quite gifted in divination magic. When Dervin Selvarnes said some thing would happen, it usually did.  So when a human dropped out of the sky he shouldn’t have been surprised, yet he was.


The boy landed hard, real hard, head first on a melon sized rock in the field overlooking Orin’s Lake, the weight his body snapping the boys’ neck.  Vernis cringed when he heard the tell tale crack of a bone breaking, “Your going to need help soon” the warrior said more to himself than the comatose young human.


Vernis loaded the boy onto the cart he brought with for just this reason and climbed onto his horse.


Making his was to Dervins’ manor, where the closest healers were, Vernis kept one eye one the boy and one eye on the road.  Wouldn’t do to have him bounce out of the cart in his condition the elf thought.


Pulling up to the abbey located on Dervins’ property, Vernis called out to the monk at the door, “I need a healer quick.”  The priest darted into the door he was standing next to and emerge a second later with a higher member of the clergy.  Vernis recognized the second older priest, Herpan, a nice elderly man who spent a lot of his time in Dervins’ massive gardens. 


“What’s happened?” the elder priest called out, rushing to see who was in the cart.  Herpan was expecting an injured boy, Dervin told him to, and he was just curious who the boy was, and what his injuries were. 


Vernis picked up the boy and was carrying him up the steps of the chapel by the time Herpan caught up.  One look and the monk knew it was bad.  The boys’ head was covered in blood with two visible dents; on top of that his neck was bent at an awkward angle. 


“Oh my,” Herpan muttered when he looked closely at the boy. “Lay him down right here” he said not wanting to wait a moment longer to help the mysterious boy. 


The elf gladly complied; laying Jerek down at the top of the stairs, the boy wasn’t light.  The Herpan placed his hands on the boy’s head and started whispering a prayer.  Vernis watched as the young humans crumpled dome popped back to a reasonably round shape.  The priest the moved to the neck, straightening the cracked bones with his hands and mumbling another prayer, the boy’s neck reoriented its self and the monk let out a sigh. 


“He’ll be alright, let’s get him up to a room to get some rest.”





As Jerek drifted back to conscious he tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that all the bad things he remembered were part of some godforsaken nightmare. 


He couldn’t. 


He wanted to be home in his own be so bad. 


He wasn’t. 


For one thing the bed was way to soft.  Then there was the constant buzz of people. Jerek remembered the sound from the times he went to the northern port town to sell their crop with his father.


His father, a good man now dead for some unexplainable reason.  Why did this happen he wondered.  He opened his eyes and looked around, ya this wasn’t his room.  The walls were stone and there was a large wooden door with a thick iron bands holding it together.  Just then the door opened, Jerek turned in the bed a looked to see who his visitor was.


A young elf maiden peeked her head into the room; seeing he was awake she entered. 


“Hi there, I’m Ariel, how are you feeling?” she asked. 


She was pretty, a little shorter than him with auburn hair draping down slightly pointed ears and across her shoulders.  She pale skin and emerald eyes. 


Jerek couldn’t think of a response. How was he feeling?  His family was dead, his head felt like imps were inside pulling apart his brain, his neck hurt so bad he didn’t dare turn it.  On top of that he was in a strange room with a strange elven girl talking to him.  Perhaps sensing his loss of words she continued. 


“Your in Marek, a port town a few hundred miles from where you lived.  Dervin, a wizard, told my father where to find you and he brought you here to be healed.” 


“Why?” asked Jerek, not really wanting to be alive anyway.


“His reasons are his own he wants to see you when you feel up to it.  Until then feel free to rest as long as you like your meals will be brought to you.” Jerek only grunted in reply.


         Ariel looked at him for a moment longer then backed out the door closing it behind her.  Wondering why someone would choose to save him, how he knew where to find him, and what this powerful wizard wanted to talk to him about, Jerek fell asleep.


         


He woke up several times over the next few days, never getting out of bed but eating more each time.  Ariel came by a few times tying to get him to talk. 


He ignored her. 


It wasn’t that he wanted to be mean, he hurt physically, and emotionally more so.  He just couldn’t think of anything to say. 


         Days turned to weeks and he started feeling better, started talking to Ariel more and more.  She was nice, always smiling with something nice to say.  When she talked about her adventures she spoke with such enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but get excited about whatever she talked about. 


He told some things about his past, avoiding the awful night he got here.  After a couple of weeks he could get out of bed and walk on his own, not for long at first but after a while his strength returned. 


As soon as Ariel would allow Jerek went to see Dervin.  Curious of what questions the he had, and having a few questions for the wizard himself. 


Led by Ariel, Jerek approached the wizards’ door on the second floor of the main house.  “Just knock,” said Ariel


Jerek was a little apprehensive, he didn’t know why. He was supposed to come talk to Dervin when he felt better.  Maybe it was the aura of power that was emanating from the door.  Taking a deep breath, Jerek reached up to knock on the door.