The Morsbane Chronicles

[Finrod]

(this first story originally presented as part of the Heroscape Fiction Contest almost two years ago)

The Morsbane Chronicles, Volume One
Maternal Legacy

by Finrod

Saylind raised the Spear of Summoning and closed her eyes. The now-familiar corona of energy swirled about her before coalescing into a vague shape to her immediate left. I wondered who it would be this time. If precedent meant anything, it would probably be that grinning buffoon Drake - a capable warrior and leader, to be sure, but totally ignorant of our ways.

Saylind’s mystical portal completed its work. The energy expelled outward, leaving behind a human clothed fully in shining armor. He removed his helmet, shaking loose a shock of blond hair. His face displayed a slightly dazed look, which was to be expected. The Spear of Summoning was an amazing device, but its “porting” was a disorienting experience to anyone unused to it.

Syvarris stepped forward. “State your name, Jandar-born!” he demanded with his usual bluster.

The knight blinked and focused on the tall elf as silent Saylind stepped back. Recovering his equilibrium, he knelt on one knee and announced simply, “I am Sir Denrick. I come on behalf of he who saved me from destruction.”

“We all share similar tales,” I said softly, moving next to Syvarris. “However, all those you see here...” I gestured to the archers and warriors that surrounded us. “...received their second birth from Ullar, not Jandar. Rise. We would hear what it is you ask of us.”

Denrick examined me carefully as he stood. “Are you the one called Morsbane?”

“I am.”

“Then my message is intended primarily for thee.”

“You will speak to us all!” Syvarris cried. “We have suffered much already from Jandar’s war with Utgar, and our alliance may well be over. If you have more to ask of us, we would all hear it!”

“It is not of Utgar that my message concerns today, but of Vydar,” Denrick answered. A murmur swept through the elves at the mention of Utgar’s tentative ally.

“Give us your news,” I urged. “You will find no betrayal from those around you.” Syvarris shot me a glare, but more interesting was the brief look of intensity that passed over Denrick’s face at the word “betrayal.”

“Jandar wished you to know of new recruits that Vydar has summoned...”

“Every Valkyrie is constantly seeking new recruits!” Syvarris exclaimed. “How is this...”

“Queen’s peace, Syvarris. Let him finish,” I said calmly.

Denrick bowed his head briefly and continued. “Vydar’s forces have grown much in recent days. He has sought more of the dreaded Soulborgs and other strange warriors with weapons that strike as swiftly and as far as your arrows.” Syvarris made a scoffing noise. “We have word of a great black dragon that has been sighted near his camp, but has not engaged anyone in battle yet. But most troubling of all is... a woman... ”

A cold shiver crawled its way across my back before he said another word. Somehow I knew - I knew! - before he spoke the name. The possibility had always been there, at the back of my mind, like a whisper of a nightmare once remembered...

“Sudema.”

Syvarris looked at me. “Sudema? Was not she...” He stopped at the look on my face.

“All of Feylund knows the story,” I said, biting off each word.

Sir Denrick appeared hesitant. “While there are no inhabitants of Feylund within Jandar’s ranks, still we have heard whispered rumors...”

“My mother Marhana attempted to banish that foul sorceress, but was betrayed by Khosumet the Darklord,” I answered, again noticing the brief tightening of Denrick’s eyes at the mention of betrayal. “Sudema was severely diminished, but I knew she would regain her strength and powers in time.”

“We will kill her!” Syvarris vowed.

“She is already dead!” I snapped. “No... for her to be defeated, her power must first be banished.” I fingered the Rod of Negation. “We will attempt a raid. Now. Before she expects anything. Sir Denrick, will you honor our fight by accompanying us?”

Denrick bowed. “It is for this cause that I have come,” he said. “My sword is yours as long as you have need of it.”

“We have no need...” Syvarris began. I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

“Enough,” I told him. “Honor this warrior. His valor is renowned. He has defied Utgar’s fire dragon and lived to tell the tale.”

“He serves Jandar! He only wishes us to weaken his enemies!”

“Jandar respects us. He sent us a representative who would show us honor and now volunteers to fight at our side. Let us show him honor in return. You will do this, or I will leave you behind for this battle.”

Syvarris opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it quickly. His battle-lust could always be counted on to trump other arguments.

“Good. We move out at once,” I said. “Tell Saylind to fly on ahead. Vydar’s encampment is near Trollsford, on the border’s edge. When she is close enough, she can began to summon the rest of us. We will follow as swiftly as we may. And send a message to King Charos with a full accounting of what is taking place.”

Syvarris nodded and left to do his duty. I examined the mystic runes on my Rod. If only the queen were here... she would know what to do... she would have more of a plan. For myself, I could only contemplate the confrontation to come. If any of us were to survive this encounter, I would have to defeat Sudema... alone.

The journey passed in a blur. I left the leadership responsibilities to Syvarris while I sank deeper into my own musings each hour that went by. Sudema, scourge of Feylund. Undead queen of depravity. Malefic witch of vileness. The descriptions were numerous and colorful, and they all passed through my thoughts, marching on in a parade of angry epitaphs, followed by the memories of that dreadful day.

I had not told Syvarris all. May the Queen forgive me, I had not even told her all.

Because I was there.

I was there on the day that my mother, Marhana, greatest of the Banishers, joined with Khosumet the Darklord in a desperate attempt to end Sudema’s evil, elf and devourer united, as the world had never seen it.

I was there as Sudema screamed in rage and pain, the hideous snakes on her head writhing and biting themselves and her in a frenzy of mystic devastation.

I was there at the moment that should have ended her menace for all time, as my mother readied the final incantation.

I was there, screaming in horror as Khosumet’s khopesh sliced across my mother’s back, breaking her orphic shields and spilling her lifeblood within the sacred circle. Not satisfied with the betrayal itself, Khosumet knelt to finish the job in his own brutal way.

I was there, too far away to intervene, as my mother, desperate to complete her task, uttered one last Banishment. Her Rod of Negation shattered, its splinters slicing through the remains of Sudema’s wrappings, just as Khosumet’s jaws came down.

He stood then, the Darklord, rising alone within Feylund’s sacred circle. Marhana lay dead beneath him, and nothing was left of Sudema save a pile of skeletal remains and torn wrappings.

He looked at me, a gleam in his bestial eyes and my mother’s blood dripping from his fangs. In that moment, I felt the full measure of rage and fear that my young body was capable of holding. As the two archers at my side unleashed their own frenzy of anger at the devourer, I raised my own acolyte’s staff and screamed my first Banishment at the foul beast who had destroyed all I held dear.

The Darklord staggered back, wounded no less by my attack than by the arrows that struck about him. He fled into the night, his loping strides easily outdistancing our pursuit.
In truth, I wished that it were Khosumet we were going to face today.


We arrived at the outskirts of Vydar’s newest outpost and began laying our plans. We did not wish to get into a full-scale battle where we would be vastly outnumbered. Fortune was with us in this regard. The camp seemed mostly empty. One of our scouts reported that an internecine dispute with Einar had pulled most of Vydar’s forces into Laur.

I looked around at those with me: Denrick, Syvarris, Saylind, members of the elite Aubrien Archers and the beautiful but deadly Warriors of Ashra. Heroes, each and every one of them. And they all looked to me this day.

“With a swift assault, we can end this threat decisively,” I told them.

Sir Denrick looked uncertain. “Perchance Sudema is not here?” he wondered.

“She is here,” I said. “I can sense her presence.” Something linked the two of us, perhaps because I had been there that day she was last defeated. It was an odd feeling in my bones I had never experienced before, but it could mean nothing else.

Syvarris launched another piercing gaze at me. “Can she sense yours?” he asked pointedly.
Before I could even speculate, the answer was upon us.

He rushed in with no proud boasts, no war cries. Silent but lethal, the man known as Agent Carr was suddenly right in our midst, somehow bypassing our sentries. His gun spoke once, the projectile passing dangerously near my own head, and then the Sword of Reckoning swept into action, striking down one of our warriors before she could utter a cry.

As the slain warrior’s sister stepped up and engaged the grim Agent, I leveled the Rod of Negation, but hesitated. Could I afford to use any of my energy before Sudema herself appeared?

Carr’s body seemed to vibrate, becoming almost transparent as a shimmering glow surrounded him. To her horror, Carr stepped forward, passing through the Ashra warrior. As the glow faded, he rushed on, swinging his mighty blade at an unprepared archer. Sir Denrick was suddenly there, his own blade engaging the enemy’s in a shower of sparks.

A swarm of Gladiatrons and Gorillinators rushed at us. Syvarris led the counterattack, calling on the archers to follow him as he loosed arrow after arrow into the enemy. The other elves rallied to him, leaving Carr to Denrick and myself.

Denrick, as valiant as he might be, was no match for Vydar’s enchanted Sword of Reckoning. Already, Carr was driving him back, his blows leaving actual dents in Denrick’s shield. I had no choice. My mouth formed the words of the Banishment, as my staff glowed with mystic fire.

Carr staggered at the spell’s impact, faltering. Denrick shouted with battlelust, tossing his damaged shield aside and wielding his sword with both hands. Carr feebly blocked the assault, baffled that his own sword seemed suddenly ineffective.

Around us, the battle raged. Vydar’s forces fought with a different power from our own. Theirs was born of a melding of metal and the dust of the earth, combined into weapons that cut through armor or threw small projectiles or even light itself across long distances. At first glance, our arrows and blades might seem a weak defense against such an attack, but it was not the weapons that mattered as much as the warriors that wielded them.

Then... she was there. Surrounded by Soulborg Gladiatrons, Sudema strode into the fray, arrogant as she had always been. The living serpentine hair, the wrappings that held her mummified body together - it was all as she had once been and was again. Could such a being ever truly die? My will faltered.

Syvarris whirled through the battle, striving to stay out of reach of the Gladiatrons’ grasping claws, screaming with the love of conflict and his own abilities. His arrows found many targets among the enemy, striking down Soulborg and Primadon alike. But his path was leading him...

“Syvarris!” I tried to scream, but my voice could not be heard over the clash of weapons and the animalistic cries of the Primadons. Desperate, I started forward, hoping I could reach him in time, the words of the required Banishment ready at my lips.

Agent Carr attempted to flee, something at which he was normally quite adept, but with the Banishment upon him, more than one power had been lost. “Coward! Poltroon!” Denrick cried, striking him from behind. Carr stumbled and fell to one knee. Denrick moved to circle him, fury burning in his eyes.

Pain like I had never experienced sliced across my back! I was falling and didn’t know why. Something had struck me from behind, and I could feel a wetness on my back - far too much of a wetness.

Struggling, I raised my head only to see the confrontation I had hoped to forestall. Syvarris spun once more, turned, and found himself only a few feet from Sudema. Recognition dawned and he raised the Bow of Ullar, a fierce grin splitting his features. But at the same moment, Sudema locked her gaze upon him.

In truth, I knew it took place in mere seconds, but it felt as if time slowed. My friend, the mightiest archer of all Feylund, was transformed before my eyes, his muscles freezing in place, hardening within his flesh, which quickly succumbed to the same effect. He stood there, poised in the act of pulling back the string. And unless something could be done, he would stand there forever. Syvarris had become stone.

“This seems familiar, pup,” said a guttural voice behind me. Though I could not turn my head far enough to see him, I knew it. And the feeling I had experienced at our first arrival exploded in my head with a certainty - it was not Sudema I had sensed; it was Khosumet. Somehow the Banishment I had first placed on him, young and inexperienced as I was, had linked the two of us.

Why he was here was not important - perhaps he was simply delivering a message from Utgar to his ally. Or perhaps some new betrayal was taking place. Anything was possible.
All of this flashed through my mind at the same time as Syvarris was becoming stone, as Denrick brought Carr to his knees, as the battle raged on, as Sudema stepped closer to admire her work on Syvarris...

She was within range! Khosumet did not matter. Even now, he would be dropping down, his jaws widening, preparing to rend my throat in the same way he did my mother’s...

With every iota of strength I possessed, I thrust the Rod of Negation forward and screamed the words of the Banishment. The words erupted from my throat, searing my lips as I uttered the mightiest incantation known to my people.

In the same moment, other words intruded upon my consciousness, words I could not comprehend nor regard at the moment. “Have at thee, cur!” It was Sir Denrick, who had abandoned his previous foe for my sake, tearing himself away from the easy demise of Agent Carr, and launching himself into the Darklord who knelt over my prone body. Knight and devourer rolled away from me, blades whirling, blood slinging.

Just as my mother’s had done, my staff exploded. The shards blasted toward Sudema. I caught a brief glimpse of her widening eyes, but it was already too late for her power to affect me. Caught in the path of the Banishment, she screamed, a wail that was torn from the Pit itself.

I saw her writhe in agony, but nothing more, as the cool energies of Saylind wrapped around me and spirited me away...

I awoke to a frenzy of activity, elves rushing about me, with the pain in my back not lessened. Then I fell to the blackness again, embracing the pain, wondering if I, too, had failed to end the terror.


When at last I regained consciousness, the pain was gone. I was lying on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room. I caught a glimpse of a blue-skinned Valkyrie gliding softly out the door. Sir Denrick stepped into view, looking unchanged from his first audience with me. Did the man never remove his armor?

“Where am I?”

“This is the Fortress of the Archkyrie Jandar,” he answered. “I persuaded your comrades to allow me to bring you here where Kelda’s ministrations could effect your healing.”

“Tell me of the battle. What of our mission?”

He told me everything. Saylind had helped evacuate the survivors of our raid and had even rescued the statue of Syvarris before angry Gladiatrons could destroy it. Denrick had left the enchanted archer with Ullar’s forces. If there was a way to restore him, no one knew it. We had lost a full score of other elves in the battle, but Vydar had suffered equal if not greater losses. Denrick expressed hope that Agent Carr bled to death on the battlefield, but he could not be sure. Khosumet had escaped in the confusion of the retreat.

And Sudema? Once again, she had been defeated. But destroyed? No one knew. I had my suspicions. The results of the Banishment had been eerily similar to the last time. She would be back, perhaps even sooner this time. Though Vydar was certainly not to be compared to Ullar, the power of a Valkyrie and the Wellsprings could do amazing things. I resolved to strengthen my abilities for our next encounter.

Before he left me to rest, Denrick gave me something. He mumbled something about not being sure why he had picked it up, and exited quickly. I examined the piece of wood carefully. No wider than a handsbreadth, it was a shard of my Rod of Negation. I knew I would use it to craft a new staff, just as I had used a shard of Marhana’s staff so long ago.

I lay back on the pillow and stared at the sliver of living wood.

“Marhana... Mother... I will not fail you next time...”

[Finrod]

Okay, here's why I've reposted this story after almost two years: I'm working on the next story following this one and wanted to reintroduce you all to my version of the story of Morsbane, Sudema and Khosumet.

As soon as Swarm of the Marro arrived, my first thought was: "How will Morsbane react to hearing that he is now technically allies with Sudema?"

I've mulled it over for some time, and I'm finally working on the answer. I'll also be introducing some of the other elves (although I do hope the official bios are up soon so I don't contradict them).

Expect the Wolves of Badru for certain....

[Dredd Stev]

great work there Finrod, you captured exactly how I think about Syv, Morsbane and Dennrick.

+rep your way my man!

[Pumpkin_King]

Great job, Finrod. Excellent Piece of fiction.

[fejkl]

Finrod, may I suggest writing about Khosumet's betrayal of Sudema? I think that may help explain how they're now enemies. Perhaps an Anubian ambush led by the Darklord or something that would cause them to become enemies.

[Nooblar]

This is just as awesome the second time I read it as the first! Good job; +rep.

...Er, I would if I could give you rep again so soon!

[Armydillo978]

I liked the way it flowed. You have a good handle on the characterization and interaction with the various personalities; enough to make each one seem dynamic.

As for the "allies" part. Just like work, you don't have to be friends to work with each other. An uneasy, or not so uneasy, truce could last for the greater good. Of course, it's kinda hard to work with someone who's killed a family member.

Looking forward to the next segment.

Bill

[Finrod]

Hmmm. I may hold off a bit on posting the next section of the storyline.

Chardris' bio was just revealed and it contradicts something I just wrote. I'm going to wait see the other elf bios... hopefully SOON... so as to make sure it all works together.

Yes, I know it doesn't HAVE to, since this is my story, but I like tying it all in.

I had planned to reveal that one or two of the elves were from different time periods. Like, Acolarh was from an age past, remembered as this great hero... who doesn't quite seem so impressive to Morsbane in real life.

[johnny139]

VERY interesting. The Morsbane/Khosumet/Sudema trio was always one of the coolest parts of backstory to me; they all hate one another, each for different reasons. I always wanted to write about it, but was/am too lazy.

Definitely subscribing to this; can't wait to see what you come up with!

[Akralon]

Excellent work. Without a doubt one of the better pieces of writing I've seen here. I look forward to your next installment.

I especially enjoyed your depiction of Agent Carr's ghostwalk ability. Well done.

[Chimpy]