Chronicles of the Dreadstalker

Chronicles of the Dreadstalker The Sword Of Redemption Val, Bjornson Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name] All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. A Thing Of Darkness 2. The Death Of Innocence 3. Path To Stynehaven 4. Nidhogg's Chosen 5. The Mages Tower 6. Fortress Greystone 7. To Risk It All 8. The Aftermath Chapter one A Thing Of Darkness There are places older than anyone can remember, their history obscured in the mists of time. They were created before there was a concept of time, eons before the dawn of living, sentient beings. They began as forces, not physical places, but instead concepts or ideas floating in the nothingness. As time passed, they settled in areas away from creatures and froze in time. Some became hilly landscapes, some rock formations or caves while others became forests. Dark and foreboding, hiding smaller creatures, keeping them safe from hunters and predators. They settled. Sleeping with their truths all but forgotten. These ancient places hide the secrets of the known world and only those holding certain mystical keys are able to unlock them or may wake the true concepts. Not all these forces transformed. Some continued to roam the world. Most of them dark and full of malice and hate. They would seep into the minds of beings, poisoning their hearts with dark thoughts. Some would never know that this darkness existed, simply hearing it whisper in their ear, but never obeying. Others, more susceptible, listened and did as they were told. Then there were the dark ones. The ones who were steeped in these ancient concepts, who not only did as they were told, but could bend the darkness to their will. In time they would be referred to as dark magicians and they would eventually infiltrate all aspects of reality and civilizations. Some were warlords, some powerful mages and some were simply village conjurers, at first glance all innocent and harmless, but every once in a while one could catch a look in the reflections of their eyes, and one could suspect that there was more to it than first met the eye. The foreboding darkness had traveled far and wide, looking for the perfect area to settle down and make its home. It wanted to spread something, wanted to infect pure souls and stir up trouble for creatures all around. As it traversed the landscape, putting many miles under it as it moved away from the dark, dank cave where it emanated from, it infected livestock and villages that passed by. Chaos disease and misery followed in its wake, simply a bi-product of the mere presence of such unmitigated evil. It identified itself as the taint, misery and malignancy. Finally it located the place it had been looking for. An ancient forest, almost as old as the taint itself. It recognized the familiar aura of magic from time immemorial and if it had a face it would smile. For a moment the taint waited outside the tree line and observed the old and gnarled oaks that made up the first line of defense from the outside world. The forest acted like a microcosmos of its own making and the trees were like an outer wall to keep out beings that would wish harm on the inhabitants inside. The taint could sense the opposite force, deep inside, but knew full well that it would not notice the invasion until it was too late. It had become sedentary and frozen at the heart of it all. There would be nothing it could do to stop the incoming darkness. The foreboding darkness crept through the ancient forest, a harbinger of change that tainted the air and unsettled the creatures that called it home. They scattered when it moved through the trees and the brush, like a thick black mist that snaked among the living foliage. The beasts, innocent, only following their base instincts, recognized evil when they sensed it. Even the larger animals like elks or big brown bears shied away from it and tried to cover their eyes, for they knew that to look into the black abyss of the darkness was to be enthralled by it, maybe to die. For animals could not be swayed by the taint of the darkness, they were never inherently evil or good, but the influence of the darkness would end in madness, the loss of appetite and general delirium and inevitably death. As the dark tentacles of the tainted darkness spread the trees began to wither into gnarled shapes, diseased with fungi and dried up branches. They cast long horrific shadows against the ground and the narrow paths that animals had previously traversed. Those who live close to the forest saw the change and began to whisper of something cursed inside, and travelers were warned not to tread on the foot paths that became overgrown and dangerous. Eventually the people who lived close moved away, leaving abandoned homes as a warning to whomever ventured too close. It was the first whisper of a world about to shift, yet its inhabitants remained blissfully unaware. If one did not live next to the transformation you were not cognizant of the shift that was about to happen. How could one be? The change would be monumental, and with all such changes the first stages were difficult to detect. When one did so it would be too late. People are always willing to believe that the status quo will hold and that any shift in the perspective is a mere figment of their imagination. Like a lobster in water that is slowly brought to a boil they don’t know they are in danger until it is too late. This was exactly how the darkness liked it, how it operated every time it managed to turn an innocent place or