The Stones of Sorinthe

Discussion in 'Original Works' started by Thagryn-Sylrand, May 28, 2008.

  1. Thagryn-Sylrand

    Thagryn-Sylrand Ranger

    Apr 12, 2008
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    Saskatoon, SK, Canada
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    Here is a story for which I am having a writers block but have the first few chapters of it. It's in its infancy so don't blame me because I am to (in writing at least.) Oh and just wondering should i post every chapter as a new thread or what?


    The fortress was impressive, but even its power was insignificant to that of Carth’s master. Carth had known that his master’s power stretched far, but this far he could not imagine. Yet it was done; with one order his master could infiltrate the most ancient and powerful places on Aörun. And ancient and powerful this castle was.
    You could not say where the castle parted from the rock on which it was laid. The average man might say that the stronghold was carved from the stone itself. But even the average man would know that the stairs were. The stone steps up to the citadel spiraled around the massive stone with no railings for almost 10,000 steps. One misstep and you could be gone, but this did not prove a difficult climb for Carth.
    Carth had been trained to endure from child to adult; most of those who had the same profession did. For Carth was an assassin from a brotherhood born in the deserts of Aörun. And that brought him back to his quest…retrieve the magic stones of Sorinthe.
    Ascending the steps at a quicker pace than before, Carth had to laugh. Who would create a fortress to protect old men that did not deserve protection? They had enough power of their own with magic. But then again, it could have been made not to protect the wizards but the treasures instead. Perhaps Carth would be carrying more than just stones on his return trip; he could not wait.
    Finally reaching the heavy wooden doorway Carth remembered the procedure.
    “Knock seven times and you will be given entrance” said Drach Modan “and kill the one who opens the gate. We have no use for him anymore.”
    And it will be done.
    He counted the knocks, and made each one with the same amount of strength. He waited and the thought struck him. Do they know? But the door did open and he was met by a face that would soon be dead. Not now though, that would cause too much alarm. He simply nodded and he was let past.
    The entrance hall was more spectacular than he had imagined even when lit by dull candlelight. The floor was marble and the ceiling was a canvas of art. Four black pillars rose from the ground and held the upper level from collapsing. He was flanked by spiraling staircases with golden railings. Ahead of him was another pair of staircases. He knew which one to take.
    “Take the staircase ahead of you and to the left, the rest is self explanatory.”
    And it was, after he got up the stairs he entered the door and was instantly amazed. A room this size shouldn’t fit into a castle this small. Then again it could be just a spell. Displayed all around him were parts of mithril armor, scrying stones, artifacts in glass cases. Then he saw them. Not encased in anything were the stones of Sorinthe, each one a different color, seven in all. He walked briskly and silently towards the pedestal and reached his hand out.
    “So we meet again Carth Senrath. About time.”
    A staff came whipping through the air towards him. He had only enough time to raise his arm to block it. The staff hit hard, nearly breaking his arm and he fell backward. As he fell he grabbed a few but not all of the stones. He picked up momentum and rolled backwards, drawing his blade with his free hand. Now that he saw the wizard’s face, there was something recognizable about it. His thoughts were interrupted as the wizard jabbed at him with his staff. Carth skipped backward and the staff was within a few inches of hitting him. The wizard kept on the offensive and didn’t give Carth a chance to attack; but he did have a chance to think.
    Now he remembered. He’d been hired before to kill this wizard, for his employer had allowed some information slip into the wizard’s grasp. Unfortunately the wizard was not killed. Fortunately, Carth was never hired by that employer again. But as fate would have it, he had another chance to kill this vesp.
    Another idea popped into Carth’s head: Destroy the staff. Using his blade, he took a swipe at the staff itself. It was chopped clean in half. The wizard looked more vulnerable now, but what he did next was unexpected. The wizard took a few steps back, grabbed the remainder of the stones and disappeared.
    “Damn it” Carth muttered under his breath. Would his master be satisfied?
    Sticking the stones in his pocket, he headed towards the main doorway. He looked around for the one who had let him in, but to no avail. And with that, he was off.

    Chapter 1

    The ranger sat crouched atop a large boulder, the valley spanning out before him. The evergreen trees stretched as far as the eyes could see; the wind rippled the treetops like waves in an ocean of green. The cloudless sky was blue above him and the sun rose over the mountain tops to the east.
    This was the elven country of Eredar, one of the most beautiful sights on Aörun. There were no cities in view, at least visible ones.
    This ranger was no elf, but was accepted by them unlike his fellow humans. He had been in exile for many years now; so many that he could not count. But he still occasionally passed through the human countries.
    One thing this ranger was good at was staying hidden, and it came in handy when he traversed the lands of Aörun. Not many people took kindly to strangers in these days of war, but the few who did gave him shelter and food in exchange for services. When there weren’t people like that around, he slept in the wild. More and more often he had to do so and he found it more comfortable with each day.
    Almost nothing frightened the ranger but there was one thing that did. Every day he became less and less human, like he did not belong to any race. This made him think of death and how he would be remembered, if at all.
    “Why is it that my good friend Thagryn is troubled by death on a day like this?” The man had appeared out of nowhere but if Thagryn was startled he did not show it.
    “Why is it that an old man can appear behind me whilst I remain unaware?” Thagryn tried but could not contain a smile and neither could the old man. They embraced like the old friends they were. “But really, why have you come Ganion?”
    Thagryn noticed that the wizard did not look well, as if something was troubling him.
    “I have come because these are dire times my friend.” As he said this he opened his closed hand to reveal three stones. These were no ordinary stones, but the stones of Sorinthe.
    “But where are the others? There were seven,” Thagryn asked.
    “They are soon to be in the hands of Drach Modan,” said the wizard grimly.
    “How was this done?”
    “Let’s just say that an old ‘acquaintance’ of mine came to pick them up and he met someone he didn’t expect.” The old wizard stated.
    “But then how did he get away with four?” asked the confused Thagryn.
    “He broke my staff,” grunted the wizard obviously embarrassed. It was then that Thagryn noticed the staff was gone. The wizard looked very misplaced without it. “At least I still have my sword; I know I shouldn’t rely on my magic too much. But the elves are crafting me a new staff as we speak.”
    Thagryn was at a loss of words so he held his tongue. The stones of Sorinthe gone, Drachs having a new power, it was all too much.
    “What would you have me do?”


    Leagues away near the shores of Eredar, an elf woman sat atop her horse overlooking the burning town of Elsamir. She was a Hadarin (one from a noble elven family) and served as a knight for the Cariah province. Five-hundred soldiers followed her on horseback, eager to fight. Some had bows and some had spears but it did not matter what weapon was used to rid the filth that plagued their land.
    “I see you who are eager to follow orders, and those of you who have not yet fought in war. I see some brave and some nervous. I see those who are battle worn, and those whose skin has not yet been broken. But above all I see the blood of Eredar! Fight with me and show your loyalty to the land. You who are nervous, be brave in knowing that if you die you shall be looked upon with great respect in the afterlife. Fight for those who have died protecting our land before us. Fight and be proud.”
    Even as she said the words she didn’t believe them herself yet the soldiers that fought for her believed them. She knew the truth behind the face of the kingdom; all the treachery, lies and conceit the leaders of Eredar concealed behind their pretty faces. Her own father had killed his brother for the throne of Cariah. But these people did not know the life of her or the other Hadarin and she liked to keep it that way.
    As she turned back towards the Elsamir, she felt the silence embrace her. She drew her sword and yelled “Charge!”
    A thousand hooves pounded the earth like an ancient drumbeat. As they drew nearer to the town the enemy came within bow shot. Hundreds of arrows whipped past her ears, almost grazing them with deadly accuracy. The frontline of the enemy dropped to the ground; new soldiers took the place of the dead. A second volley of arrows hit the enemy and the process was repeated. The horses then charged right into the invaders frontline, some of them skewered by spears but most charging right through. The Hadarin’s horse charged right through as she slashed at the scum.
    The fight went on and it was the elves that were at the advantage. Finally the enemy issued a retreat. After they were gone, Merenwen (the elvish knight) surveyed the damage. It could be repaired but what was the point? It would just be invaded again.
    She then heard a faint laughing on the wind. Getting off her horse she looked around for the noise. It was coming from one of the invaders.
    “What are you laughing about?” She inquired, seeing his crumpled body in the dirt.
    “Your efforts are futile. The Drachnar will prevail.”
    The words had frightened her; the Drachnar will prevail. Merenwen had heard of the Drach before, but only in legend. She recalled that Drach meant death lord in the black tongue. The title was used only for those who had mastered death…Necromancers.
    Necromancers could not only control their own passing, but the passing of others as well. They did this by leeching the life out of their victims and using it to extend their own. Merenwen had heard that a Drach’s staff had a corcada mounted on it. A corcada was a crystal ball used to store souls for safekeeping in times of war. Now it was used to prepare souls for harvest. This let the Drach live long off the souls he had imprisoned.
    They could also animate the dead to do their bidding. There was a war in history where the Drachs had built an army of the undead and prevailed against the combined empire of the humans. But the times of the combined empire had passed as well as the times when the Drachs had that much power. Or was that time over? Could the Drachs arise to power once again?
    Any mercy that once resided in Merenwen went away when she looked at the dying pirate.
    “I will silence your lies, bastard.” With that she cleaved his throat with her sword. But who was the real liar, herself or this traitor? She could not tell.

    Chapter 2

    Lerem bolted out of bed. Had it been a dream or a vision? All he knew was that he had a strong feeling the Sorinthe stones were gone. He got dressed in the standard brown apprentice’s robes to go and confirm his dream.
    Getting out of his room he was greeted by a long hallway with no windows. As he passed through the arched doorway at the end of the hall he was met by the dining room. There were oak dining tables resting on a scarlet carpet with tassels of threaded gold. The ceiling, like the entry hall was a single painting depicting the battle between good and evil. But Lerem didn’t have enough time to pay attention to detail. From the dining room he made it to the entrance hall and was greeted by four staircases. Climbing down the one he was on he made it to the staircase in the far left corner. Beads of sweat started to form on his brow and he wondered if it all just was a dream. But then he reached the library, only to see it had been violated. Even the glass casing which would have normally protected the stones was gone.
    Just as fast as he had come, he was gone. He headed towards the wizards quarters. The first quarter he went to was that of his master’s.
    “Ganion, Ganion. Are you there?” he yelled. “The stones of Sorinthe…they’re gone!” No answer.
    “What is this nonsense?” asked one of the other wizards coming out of his room.
    “The stones of Sorinthe, they are gone.”
    “And how would you know this?” inquired the wizard Jarok as Lerem recognized him.
    “I saw it in a dream, and I checked. They’re not there.”
    “Well let’s see,” said the wizard, his voice hinting of concern. More wizards clambered out of their chambers to see what was going on. By the time they were halfway to the library a small crowd of masters and apprentices alike were following them. Lerem couldn’t help but wonder where Ganion was but when he got to the library for a second time a grim hint appeared. On the floor in front of him was part of Ganion’s staff apparently chopped clean from the other half.
    After everyone found out what had happened Jarok turned back to them and said “Something will take place in these halls which has not transpired for hundreds of years: The Council of Therok.”

    I know the chapters are short and everything is all over the place but i'm hoping it will come together soon. What do you think of it?