Tartarus Beckons by Edmund Batara (reading an ebook .TXT) 📕

going. Tyler took the lead, proceeding directly to the location of the strange watcher. Another check revealed the figure didn’t move, nor was there any other threat in the vicinity. As they neared, the evening fog grew thicker and wrapped them in its cold embrace.

They continued walking and when they got to several feet, the haze suddenly cleared. Before them stood a tall figure wrapped in a cloak against the cold, though the face was open and the coat’s hood was gathered around his shoulders. He looked human, and the intricately carved staff he carried in his right hand made it clear he was a mage.

Suddenly, Tyler felt a hot sensation in one pocket. An unexpected rush of power ran through him, carrying with it a presentiment of warning. His first reaction was to grab what was causing the startling occurrence, but as his hand made the movement, the mage remembered what it was – the small runic plate Habrok had bought before in Scarburg. The artifact which was supposed to guard against shapeshifting dokkalfr.

His eyes immediately went to the man before them. Kobu had already stepped in front of Tyler and adopted a defensive stance. Yet the figure made no threatening gesture, except to raise his left hand in the familiar gesture of peace. The illusion which disguised him faded, revealing a tall dokkalfr clad in the same outfit. The being had a dark skin tone, though shades lighter than the usual coloration of the dark elves Tyler had seen. The mage’s memory suddenly went back to the dead dokkalfr mage they had fought in the woods outside Scarburg.

Tall. Lighter skin color. A dokkalfr noble. And a mage, the thoughts came to Tyler’s mind as he remembered Jorund’s statements.

“Peace, First Mage. A battle with you and yours is not what we came for,” said the mage before them softly.

Tyler just stared at the dokkalfr mage, his mind racing through thoughts of treachery and ambush. For him, one big question was the presence of the stranger here, in the center of Maljen, of all places. The dokkalfr looked back at Tyler and sighed heavily as he lowered his hand.

“I can’t blame you for any lingering suspicions. My kind did side with Ymir in the last war, and our races have never been on good terms,” said the intruder.

“Then why are you here?” asked Tyler finally.

“Two reasons, First Mage. One is we are fast losing Ymir’s war on us, though many are blind to that fact. We have already lost three outer cities, and two strongholds are all that stands between his forces and open access to the rest of the dokkalfr domains. We need your promised help now.”

“And the second?”

“I have to warn you about the impossible political situation governing our race before you set foot on our lands. I greatly fear my god’s displeasure if the First Mage ventured into dokkalfr domains without knowing what he was entering. Uninformed, you might just leave us to our doom,” replied the stranger.

“At its simplest, know this – factions mark our society. The mightiest rule. Purposes of such groupings are numerous and diverse. Some are secret, and others are not. Membership crisscrosses factions and classes, with power the ultimate objective. But within that mess, several powerful groups refuse to believe what our priests say – that our deity would send a human to help us. It is, I must admit, a prophecy beyond what many minds could comprehend.”

“And you?”

They know I am coming? With their god’s blessing at that, and yet… Oh, my aching head!

“I serve my deity. But I fear there will be attempts to dissuade you from perceived interference with dokkalfr society, even at the risk of being conquered by Ymir,” said the mage.

“Glad to know stupidity is not limited to humans,” replied Tyler tersely. Though at the back of his mind, the young mage could already hear the word he disliked. Politics.

“What I said earlier was necessary for you to understand what I am going to say next. Even as you approach the mountains, there will forces which try to take your head, openly or from the shadows. At the very least, the intention would be to dissuade you from continuing further,” the dokkalfr continued.

The idea of running a gauntlet of small armies, monsters, and assassins was not a welcome one for Tyler. His party could easily defeat such forces, but any dead dokkalfr would be one less to fight against the jotnar.

“Why? Surely any aid in stopping Ymir and the conquest of the dokkalfr would be welcomed?” asked the bewildered Tyler. A sense of distaste for the upcoming venture was starting to rise within him.

That Freyr! He knew what I was getting into! Some sort of warning would have been welcome! thought Tyler. Then he realized that the dokkalfr mage standing before him was precisely that – Freyr’s way of notifying him of the hornet’s nest he was going to disturb.

His companions’ expectations of a welcome lined with sharp blades now seemed to be confirmed. Fighting the same people he will be trying to save while facing off with Ymir’s hordes appeared to be the dire future waiting for the company. Tyler was already wondering how he was going to save Freyr’s people without being stabbed in the back.

“Xenophobia runs deeply among my kind. For some, your mere presence in our lands would be intolerable, not much different from that of the jotnar,” the dokkalfr mage explained.

“My promise was to stop Ymir’s offensive against your people, and I have absolutely no intention of getting mired in your politics. Dokkalfr social relations and politics already seemed to be impossibly horrid, from the little you have told me,” advised Tyler.

The young First Mage’s mind was already trying to think of a way of doing what the deity requested without the encumbrance of being mired in dokkalfr power struggles. Tyler then realized he had to talk with his party members first. The situation was already giving him a migraine.

“It is extremely confusing, to say the least, I admit. A chaotic state of affairs born of tradition, bigotry, and greed. But that’s my world. It’s not so far removed from the practices