Realm of Druids by Mark Hogenelst

Author:Mark Hogenelst [Hogenelst, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-04T22:00:00+00:00

38.

THE DAEMON SUMMONING

Lady Strala’s nightbirds, a Raven prowler and several other animal familiars left her chamber, thankful that they still lived. The lady sat in complete darkness with a mood as foul as the blackest night. She had been told of Crovar’s second failure. This time resulting in the slaying of his party that had accompanied him to kill the wolf and bring the mancub and Talisman back to the coven. Sitting on her throne, she wrapped her fingers upon the skull of a sizeable Cablemoth set grinning into an arm on her stone throne. The Cablemoth once flew the skies in the southern moors until they were hunted by the Ravens and nightbirds into extinction. Strala was in deep thought. There have been so many failures. If you wanted something done, you must do it yourself she kept repeating to herself over and over. Her glowing green eyes and the contrasting white runes on her black cloak were the only eerie light source in the chamber. The symbols moved erratically around and in and out through the woven fabric, reflecting her unstable temper. Her best skyriders were eagerly prepared to lead the Wildpack army east to begin the conquest of the southern wolf packs and Elvene clans. The desired result would be a clean sweep along the Scarbia Ranges, but Strala was yet to give the order to commence as she had delayed.

The Warlord Shum had allied with Brod and his goblin reavers outside the New Territories and should now be invading the ruling wolf clan territory in the north, Duskfall province. Her counterpart Lady Ravyne from the Night Grove coven south of Trunarth Forest had assured her that Duskfall would fall and thus allow their army to march unmolested towards the Great Rift. Then when the north and south armies met, the moors would belong to the witches’ and the Aledran bears and what was left of the cowardly elves would be forced to show themselves and intervene. Grell was on another mission for her, and she was waiting for him to report back with news of the NaZuth. Of course, all this would be much easier if she had the Talisman. She sighed and stood up. It was time to consult her patron Daemon ‘Dalgaith the Wretched’ and see what advice he was willing to part with. He was very unpredictable of late.

Strala strode through the dark rock-walled passages to her private chamber. A small fire lamp was set into one wall giving off an orange wavery light that lit up that part of the chamber. She walked in and stepped over the shrivelled corpse of the former necromancer Ginerva. She lifted a plump arm and made a reaching gesture towards a dark corner of her chamber. Out of the dark, her sweep emerged and flew to her hand. She muttered a few strange words and then silence. The jewel in her sweep glowed briefly then went back its standard colour. A dull scraping noise followed by a slight vibration was heard and felt in her chamber.

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