Creative Writing Wednesday: “The Epic Legend of Damien Fell”, Part 9

Posted: August 29, 2012 in The Epic Legend of Damien Fell
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Where Alph, the sacred river ran, the time has come, the walrus said. The road goes ever on and on, and where is the horse and the rider? My name is Ozymandias, my angry lesbian breasts, and whiffling through the tulgey wood the rabbits quite forgot themselves and frozen there, like saplings stood. I ate the plums in the icebox, so shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? I’m a man of wealth and taste, I’m a Monday-morning lunatic, and I’m out there on the road always doing what I’m told. Can you help me? Midway through our life’s journey, I took the road less traveled in the forests of the night. Say what you mean, bear witness to the sunshine that I got in a bag. Summoned quite late to the tiniest court, my little horse must think it queer that my mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun. He was a good king! When that April with its sweet showers hath pierced the drought of March, we are not unreasonable– we will not eat your eyes. They say that you could hear her wailing clear to Botany Bay. From Hell’s dark heart I stab at the horror, the horror. There is no pain, you are receding to the music that we choose. On the day the saucers came, I will not say the day is done, nor bid the stars farewell. That is not dead which can eternal lie, and after strange aeons who mourns for Adonais in the tilted alley where I cried my mother’s name? It came upon a midnight clear, from its house at great R’lyeh. Bye, baby bunting, I’ve got to go– got to leave it all behind and face the conscience of the king. Half a league, half a league, half a league onward, abandon hope, ye who enter here. We’ll meet again, some sunny day, where late the sweet bird sings. For that is the road to fair Elf-land, where angels fear to dine at the Ritz. You have been eaten by a grue, you hide your beauty from the sun. The revolution will not be televised. Television dreams of tomorrow never knows. The cake is a lie. Good times never seemed so good.

I have heard the mermaids singing.

No one flies around the sun.

Exit, pursued by a bear.

~ Ian


The Epic Legend of Damien Fell

Chapter 9: A Storm of Shadow

Damien fell woke up in the darkness. The sky was lightning in the east, fading from inky-deep blackness to a deep rich indigo blue. Far away, off in the distance, he could hear the sound of wings……… relentless, pounding wings, wings that were heading in his direction, wings that were searching for blood………………

He bolted to attentiuon. “Get up!!!!” he shouted. ‘We have to go NOW!!!!!”

Princess Amberlae stirred sligthly, in a postcoital fashion. “Damien? My love, what is it?” she murmured.

“Quick!” erupted Fell. “I can hear them: bloodravens! They are seaking us!”

Shaira sat up. “Of course! Bloodravens, summoned from the deep skies of Hell. I should have thought of this!!!”

“WHat are bloodravens?” Asked Amberlae, her perfect brow furrowing prettily.

“They are a kind of demonic birds, summoned often by sorcerors who use them as spies and trackers. We must ride now, or else they’ll see us!”

“Too late!” burst Shaira, pointing up into the sky. “They see us!! They’re coming!!!!”

Muttering a sharp curse in the tongue of the Demons, Damien Fell drew the massive aelfynn longbow Forestsong to its full draw if three hundred pounds, nocking an arrow to the string. At that moment, the sun rose over the landscape, and Damien’s sharp half-demonic, half-angelic eyes picked out three tiny specks far off on the northern horizon. Muttering to himself darkly, Damien Fell fired the arrow and it went arcing across the moors. One thousand, two thousand, three thousand feet it flew, over a full mile of open Northern planes, and lost none of its momentum. Five seconds after Damien Fell let go of the string, shooting the arrow out through the sky, it struck the lead bloodraven in the wing. The raven gave a sudden caw of pain and anger, beginning to fall to the ground. Dam,ien Fell placed another arrow on the bowstring, drawing it back and letting fly. This one hit a second raven straight through the heart. It began to fall, keening widly.

But it was too late. The other bloodraven was already begnning to turn back, alerting whoever had summoned them to their presence on the open plains. Damien shot a final arrow after it, but it was out of range. There was nothing left to do. The bloodraven had vanished, disappearing into the open sky.

“In the name of the Nine Archdukes of Hell!!!!” cursed Damien Fell. “We must hurry, Shaira. Amberlae and I have to get to the Womb of SHadow and Light, or else our mission shall be all in vain!!!!!!!”

Sharia nodded grimly. “Aye. Let’s go.” And with that, Shaira prepared to mount her horse.

But Damien Fell shook his head. “No,” he said. “That won’t be nearly fast enough. I have a much better option. One that will carry use with ease to the Womb of Shadow and Light.”

And with those cryptic words, Damien fell spread his hands wide, gazing up to the sky. He closed his perfectly dark eyes, and cast his gaze up to the heavens, parting his lips and uttering a Wyrde of Powyre……………………………………………………………

“ELGAENOYL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” shouted Damien Fell.

The sound of the Wyrde of Powyre shattered the early morling science, and a sound like the voice of thunder echoed across the open plains of the Northlandsl. It echoed across forests and deserts, across jungles and seas. It traveled across four continents and two oceans, until it reached a cave on the far side of the world, in a long-forgotten mountain range on the continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun………………….

In that cave, something stirred. There was a sound like the cry of an eagle, mixed with the roar of a loin. And from the far off cave four continents away, flying faster than the wind, speeding across the ocean with the noise of a sonic boom, were three beasts. They had the heads of majestic, beautiful eagles, and the hind parts of golden, tawny lions. One of them, the one flying at the head of the three, had head feathers of a beautiful golden-red hue. The others had simple gray-brown head feathers, but although they weren’t as majestic as the headfeathers of the leader, they were still pretty majestic.

From the continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun, Jorquim, King of the Griffons, with his two mates, was flying to help Damien Fell.

They flew over half the earth at an unimaginable speed. They passed over Kar’ae’thaluun, greatest and most beautiful city of the Dark Aelves, and the place where Damien Fell’s adventures had began, so many days ago. From the palace of Karass Mor, where King Estuvi sat weeping on his platnium throne, pining the loss of his daughter, he looked up and saw the griffons flying overhead, screaming across the sky leaving trails of flames in their wake. At the ruined collapsed rocky tumble of the Fiendfang, the few remaining cultists and devotees of Lord Hateshadowe gazed up in wonder, beholding true beauty as it flew across the sky, glorious and intimidating in its majesty. Over Shadouwegaard they flew, and the dwarves who kept watch over the gates into the city stared upward as they rocketed across the sky.

And a thousand miles from Shadouwegaard, in the middle of the Northern Moors, they passed over Travyss Hawke, where a bloodraven whispered the location of Damien Fell in his ear.

Damien Fell has summoned aide,” he murmured softly.

Then we shall summon our own, said the voice in Travyss Hawke’s head, which called itself Lord Hateshadowe, and we will destroy him with much pain.

Yes………….” smiled Travyss Hawke, and an evil smile spoke in his head, whispering the word of power that was already forcing its way to his lips…………………..

ANERACAM!!!!!!!!!@” cried Travyss Hawke, and the earth split open, reveiling a massive giant bat that spread its wings and flew into the sky.

Come, my minion!!!!” ejactulated Travyss Hawke, and leaped onto the back of the bat. It spread its leathery wings like great sails, and beating it twice, flew off into the sky, uttering a high-pitched cryt hat shook the very earth itself………………….


As Amberlae and SHaira watched in wild wonder, their eyes gazing upwards into the heavens where the griffons came from, Damien Fell smiled, and held up his hand, signalling to the King of the Griffons where to land. They came to the ground as fast as lightening, like the sudden rush of a storm.

Jorquim, King of the Griffons, landed at Damien Fells’ feet, and his two mates followed, flanking him.

I have heard your call, Damien Fell, said Jorquim. Your name is legend even among our kind, where we dwell on the long-lost continent of Ma’a’ka’la’uun. For what purpose have you summoned us? To whence shall we bear you?

“My companions and I must get to the Womb of Shadow and Light,” said Damien Fell darkly. “We cannot ride fast enough to get there. I fear that some powerful entity is after us. Bring us to the Womb of SHadow and Light, for if you don’t, terrible things will happen. It will mean the death of the cosmos.”

Proud Jorquim tossed his aqualine head nobly, thinking for a moment. After a while, though, he nodded. I will do this thing for you, Damien Fell, said Jorquim. But I demand a boon for my service.

Damien Fell nodded. “I am a man of honor, Jorquim.” He said. “Tell me what you desire, and I will grant it.”

Jorquim spoke again, and he said, I desire your service. When this is all over, when you have come to the Womb of Shadow and Light, you must come to Ma’a’ka’la’uun, where you shall be my servant for a year and a day. You will be my trusted knight, a warrior who will defend me from my enemies: the wyverns, and the manticores, and the giant ants, and the wasp riders. For, as you know, Ma’a’ka’la’uun is a continent of monsters, and life there is nasty and short. A legendary hero from a far corner of Evershyria will be a true asset to us in our war with the other monsters. 

:I will do this,” said Damien Fell. “I will go with you to Ma’a’ka’la’uun, and I will be your servant for a year and a day.”

Then it is done, said Jorquin.

As he spoke, there was a sound like the roll of thunder across the whole of the Northlands, and the sky suddenly went pitch black: not the black of night, no: for the night still has light, the light of moon and stars, and this darkness was the darkness that comes from absolutely no light at all. The world had fallen under Shadouwe. The sky and earth were filled with the keening whale of a thousand million tortured screaming souls. It was almost as if Hell itself had come to Evershyria, and covered the world with chaos.

“Hurry! We don’t have much time to get to the Womb of Shadow and Light!” shouted Damien Fell. And he leapt onto the back of Jorquim. Amberlae jumped onto the back of Qa’oshaabaan, his first mate, and Sharia took the back of his second mate, Skug.

The griffons beat their mighty wings in time, and they took off into the heavens, streaking across the frozen earth of the Northlands like meteors. The Griffons are creatures of the sun goddess Ashaetathalaa, and they glowed with their own holy golden light, even in the shadowy night of Shadouwe that covered the world. But they couldn’t fight the darkness forever. Tendrils and tenticles of darkness snapped and whipped around them, and the huge masses of pure unadulterated Shadouwe that boiled all around them grew bigger and boilier. From the darkness came a flock of what first looked like ravens: but no, they couldn’t be ravens, for they had wings that were leathery and thin like bats. However, they couldn’t be bats, either, because they had huge beaks filled with razor-sharp fangs, and they were also six feet in wingspan. Damien Fell unsheathed his massive broadsword Stormshadow, and waved it at the perilous beasts. “DROWSERYF!” he shouted, and his sword burst into flames. He swung the sword in a perfect cut towards one of the beasts, but it passed through the monster like a carrot through a whisp of fog.

“Demonfire!!!!!!!!!!” cursed Damien Fell. “I am a being of Darkness, and as such, can’t harm these conjerations of Shadouwe! Amberlae! Mayden of Lyghte! You must use your powers of Lyghte to banish these foul beasts!”

Amberlae nodded, and closed her eyes. From deep within her, she drew a breath, and found the word for the spell she needed. And opening them, her normally sapphire blue eyes burned with golden fire.

“NO’PALC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” screamed Amberlae.

Immediately the world, which had been flooded with shadow, suddenly burst into flaming, silvery light. The earth shook far beneath them, and the monsters that Damien Fell had been fighting screamed. Having been exposed to pure Lyghte, the beings that were conjurations of Shadouwe crumbled into dust, uttering one final scream of anguish as they vanished into wind-blown ash.

The griffons flew in an island of light, surrounded by a sea of seething, churning darkness.

“Well done, princess!” shouted Shaira from Skug’s back. “If I hadn’t believed you were a being of phenomenal cosmic power before, I certainly do now. That saved our bacon!!!!!”

“We’re not safe yet!!!!!!!!” shouted Amberlae. “To the Womb of SHadow and Light, griffons! And step on it!”

We are at your service and your lover’s, said Jorquim, and he beat his wings three times. Then, he shot off ahead, with the noise like a thunderstorm: the exploding sound of a sonic boom. His mates, Qa’oshaabaan and Skug, followed.

They flew over the hard cold snowy plains of the Northlands, until they passed over a range of tall snowy mountains and then came to a vast, open inland sea, racked with storms, with pirate ships and trade vessels plainly visible far below. Then after that, they flew over the Forest of Nokturnus, the largest forest in the world, filled with shadowy monsters and the race of Wood Aelves, of which race Amberlae’s mother was a member. They flew out of that forest, and came to the Plains of Bazaan Dûr, where the Seven Topaz Cities lie: Makkandor, and Jodhrhim, Bright Fharggülm and Quáyne, the twin cities of Lesh’amar and Zebbdôs, and the greatest of all of them, Great Marobhavandabar, the city where the half-immortal Emperor Ulkas CXLVIII sat brooding on his silvery throne. After that, they flew over the Marshes of Aeioubaldaar, and then over the Ebony Coast, with its rich jewelled cities. Finally, they passed over a narrow straight at the end of a peninsula, and came to a small volcanic island. In the center of that island was a massive volcano like a shattered claw stretching against the sky, with a waterfall of lava pouring from the volcano’s entrance. Jorquim and his two mates landed there, on a narrow outcropping of obsidian sticking out of the lake of lava a mile below, and there it was that the three companions dismounted.

“We have reached the Womb of Shadow and Light,” Damien Fell said.



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