The Ghost Halfling by Jonathan Moeller

Author:Jonathan Moeller [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-07T05:00:00+00:00

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The muridachs could move with stealth, but between their clawed feet and their tails, they were not good at moving without leaving a trail, and Ridmark followed their path with ease.

As they walked, he realized how Ansa had managed to survive her fight with the muridach hunters.

“This a Gemstone of Wind,” said Ansa, holding up another small soulstone. This one gleamed with a peculiar silvery light. “It can grant short bursts of speed, or command the wind to knock down a Gemspeaker’s foes.” She held up another soulstone. “This is a Gemstone of Blood. It can heal wounds, though the healing is exhausting.”

“All useful powers, I imagine,” said Ridmark. “In my land, the only soulstones we have are worked into the blades of soulblades.”

“Soulblades?” said Ansa.

Ridmark paused to consider the trail as it passed over the tangled roots of a massive, ancient tree.

“Magical swords,” said Ridmark. “In ancient days, our kingdom was almost conquered by the urdmordar. The Keeper of Andomhaim…sort of like a Gemspeaker, I suppose…appealed to the high elves for help. Ardrhythain of the high elves forged the first soulblades, weapons of power that could kill the urdmordar, and with them, we drove back the urdmordar.”

Ansa sniffed. “Then you needed the help of the high elves to free yourselves. The Hidden People won our freedom through our courage and strength of arms.”

Ridmark shrugged. “I wasn’t there. I can only tell you what the histories said. From what I have seen of the urdmordar, it is better to fight them with the help of the high elves than to live as their cattle.”

“You have seen an urdmordar?” said Ansa.

“Yes,” said Ridmark. “A village in the Northerland, years ago.”

“How did you escape from it?” said Ansa.

“I slew it,” said Ridmark.

Ansa laughed. “You make fun of me, human Ridmark. No one can slay an urdmordar.”

“I did,” said Ridmark. “I had a soulblade called Heartwarden, and with its aid, I was able to kill the urdmordar.”

“Do you have this soulblade now?” said Ansa. “Such a powerful weapon would be of use.”

“No,” said Ridmark. “It was taken from me.”

“You committed a crime?” said Ansa.

“I failed.” The questioning would have irritated Ridmark, but he could understand it. Ansa was traveling alone with a man of an alien kindred in a dangerous land. A little suspicion was warranted. “There was an orcish warlord, a man named Mhalek. He believed himself to be the reincarnation of the orcish blood gods, and he made war upon Andomhaim. I killed him, but not before he killed my wife. For failing to protect her, I was stripped of my soulblade and banished from Andomhaim.”

“I see,” said Ansa. “I am sorry.”

Perhaps she saw her own future in his present.

Ridmark shrugged. “It is what it is.” His voice sounded harsher than he intended. He wondered what Aelia would think if she could see him now, slogging through this undead-haunted forest in pursuit of a legend.

“Your own people cast you out,” said Ansa. She sounded disgusted. “Why then do you put yourself

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