Call to Kenderhell

With Glutua, the wraith's power rising, the threat of Kenderhell is growing. The men are weak and Jaded, Knitly has risen to send for help and call others to Kenderhell for the final battle.

Chapter 18 The Call to Kenderhell

Knitly and his horse rode all through the terrain. He rode passed the rocky hills of Grento, and through much of the marsh which was commonly found in Core Crest. His horse needed rest as he panted on the dirt. Much to his surprise, the rumors were true. Everything went dark. No moon nor stars shone brightly this late evening.

In front of him were no trees, these iron pillars with sharp swords for branches. There were little leaves to dress the tree, and he looked down to see several craters on the side of the road. In the middle of those craters was an obsidian stem. He reached out, carefully watching the iron trees. What Devilry is this? What concept can be drawn with this?

He pulled out the stem, but not before it cut deeply into his fingers. He clasped his hand as his red internal fluids depleted from his hand. The object in which he pulled from the earth fell and hit the ground, landing face up. It too was iron, with its veins reaching out to either side of the stem, it was colored thick red.

He took a cloth from his pack and covered his hand, walking steadily to his horse and lead it off the road. He pet it’s mane softly with his good hand. “I cannot take you with me. The Old Forest as I recall was never really good on travelers, less so with horses. I trust ye will stay here will you not? No matter, I have no idea where the road will take me after I reach these people born in the wood. Farewell.”

He took the pack off the side of the horse, heaving it over his shoulder. He put one hand on one shoulder to make sure his bow and quiver were still in place as he also elbowed his side, to make sure his blade too was where it should be.

He looked at the boughs of the Old Forest. Ahead of him, he could barely see the road, but the outline of it was there. The deeply woven branches above created an arc, with few holes revealed by swaying leaves. The darkness was deep in these woods, the physical darkness.

He took one deep breath before walking in the Old Forest for the first time. He walked underneath the arc of interwoven branches, and he could see lights in the holes in the forests. Most in pairs. He gazed into the gloominess of the night, the dusk as menacing as the sludge of Kenderhell.

Walking through the night, his aging ears heard the hoots of owls, which calmed his soul. It was only owls after all. He continued walking, carefully looking at the ground to avoid roots of the ground. Many roots however was hacked up and neatly tossed to the side.

Much of the night was spent without incident. Perhaps this forest is not as dangerous to travelers as is often fabled. I recognize no wolves, bats, or vultures. Then is happened.

Wolves howled behind him, and creaks. Creaks oh that dreadful sound that branches make when they move rapidly, scraping against one another. Howling, howls and growls echoed in his ears, and he ran. He did not take out his sword, but drew out his bow, notching an arrow to it. The bow creaked as its wood was stretched back with the fine string that wrapped around it.

He saw one wolf pounding a branch, and it smiled at him hungrily. Drool and white foam laced its mouth. It stained the branch it was on with its sticky substance. The dark bark complimented the gloomy mist that rolled over the roots and dirt, allowing nothing but the red eyes to pierce into his soul.

The great wolf jumped for him. He pointed his bow to it and released the arrow. The arrow struck. With it fell the wolf.

He ran, continuing his path towards Paxis. The howls grew much louder, and more consistent. With the dark orchestra of howling came the great wind, which blew the dust in the air, impeding his vision. Shortly after, the growls grew very close, and just when he needed it least, his vision was obscured by the mixture of dust and fog.

He ran in the direction he sensed was true. Amid the growing dangers of this dark, old forest, it was an impressive feat that he was able to accomplish that much. He could hear the snarls of a wolf behind him. So he turned around, and shot an arrow. The arrow struck true, but with it, so did the roots from underneath.

He felt a root grab ahold the aft of his heel. He tripped, falling on another uncut root that dug into his back. He grunted as he felt a warm disturbing saliva hit him like rocks on a tree. He drew his sword, and swung from the earth. He swung and swung through the dusty fog around him, following careful to the noises of growling around him. He hit many marks before one grabbed ahold of his leg, and bit.

The bit stung as it chiseled its way into the bone. He cried as the final swung lopped off the head of the wolf. He grabbed the mane of the wolf and threw it in the woods. After the head of the wolf hit a nearby tree there was silence. He limped the rest of the way, limping into Melo, early morning before the sun rose.

He could see light green grass growing everywhere. He could smell the freshly plucked tomatoes from the gardens of the homes. The homes are built from straw, and the door of bark. The rough pine bark was decorated by strips of birch. The windows were cut out, but it was not glass, it was open.

Before anyone else was up, there it was, a halfling farmer.This halfling did not wear a straw hat. Skidmarks were on his forehead, with brown hair on the sides. A single piece of wheat could be found clenched between his teeth. His wore a reddish black buttoned up shirt, and brown trousers. There was a rather large pitchfork propped up over his shoulder.

“Halfling!” Knitly called dashing towards him.

“Heh?” The halfling turned and looked rather irritated. “What do ye want? It is too early to put up with minor nonsense!”

“I am looking for the elves. Where are they?” he asked. “Surely they are close by.”

The halfling sighed in ire, pulling out a flask and took a sip from it. The smell of liquor fermented from this halfling was strong indeed. It was a drunk halfling indeed. “Such a waste of my time.” He took his pitch fork and pointed it in one direction. “Do me a favor. Leave, and never waste Glere’s time ever again!”

The halfling stormed off as Knitly continued to look in the direction. He saw open hills, blanketed in grass, while a single strip of dirt, which resembled the roads. He followed the path that the rude Glere pointed him to. He followed it at a rushed pace, until he came to what appeared to be a small forest. This must be it. He walked into the forest, and there it was.

He saw elves, men, a dwarf, and a rather large orc working together. Building or maintaining houses that were built of the trees. He walked in and no one noticed. He could hear the sweet sounds of musical flutes in the distance, and he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Who be ye?” the dwarf asked him with his rather large hand on his shoulder. “Yer attire is neither of Malitu or Felldur. What brings ye here?”

“I...I come from Kenderhell. In Grento.” Knitly said. “Grave and dead things return from beyond the accursed lands of Cadrasar, and I have come due to my master Constable, to return with the Protector’s of the Forest’s help.

“So indeed the great Grento finally calls for aid then? What took you so long?” said a voice. It was a male elf with greying hair. His sword hung proudly at his side. “Many a year have I ever been in that fair part of the world. It was much very beautiful once, before the contamination.”

“We have just received our freedom not that long ago of the tyranny of Sipus, the Guild Master of the Assassin’s Guild who has kept his chains on Kenderhell from doing so. Now he is gone, and so too are most of our chains, but we are weak now. Very weak, and we need your help.”

“Well in regards to your request, I cannot make that call, sir.” The elf bowed. He turned his gaze over to the dwarf who dropped his hand off Knitly’s shoulder. “Come with me.”

Knitly walked over to the side of the elven ranger and they walked. No other men, elves, or other foreign races took note of him. “Be mindful of Cardur. He means we,, he is just overly cautious to the point of paranoia. You cannot really blame him though. He lost many a good men, and so have we.”

“I am sorry, but in the culture shock, I failed to get yer name?” Knitly said, observing each step of softly padded grass he stepped on. He could see one thing, one thing he hardly recalls seeing before the elf answered. He saw children playing with one another, whether it was pretending to be soldiers playing with sticks, or ball in which they played with a rubber one, kicking it back and forth. It was warming to his heart to know that some sense of children at play still existed. Not at Kenderhell, or anywhere in Grento for that matter. There, they trained children to be soldiers. “My name is Derindel.”

Knitly observed houses in the trees! They were actually in the trees! It was truly unbelievable. He also noted a series of tents with some sleeping, others waking up. “Where are ye taking me?”

“To the Prophet, Yara.” Derindel replied. “She handles many things while our Guild Masters are away.”

“Your Guild Master?”

“Captains Kac Xaizan, and Yun Nailo are away. We do not expect them back for quite some time now.”

Knitly found himself entering a rather larger tent, and there was an elf there. Her face was decorated in dirt, her hair was a filthy mess, thick with mud. Leaves, both newish leaves and old decaying leaf particles could be found in her hair. “Well, what have we here? Coming into the ancient forest, through it rather to come find the Protector’s of the Forest? That is your purpose is it not, Knitly?”

“How do you know my name, fair maiden of the woods?”

“Unverdus has revealed much to me, and I know how eager you are to return to Kenderhell, to see if Constable, or the others live or not. I know of your concern with the boy with the ate as twisted as death itself. Where one has fallen another will take its place, and the blow of the forces done to Glutua, do not be alarmed my dear, he will not strike back too soon. However, it is also not a short trip to Kenderhell from here, and I see you have traveled many leagues to get here. Knitly, there is light in this world, and often I fail to neglect my own cleanliness to remind my fellow rangers of that fact. Truly when a great number of people request my help, it is not often easy help they require.” she said brushing some of the leaves out of her hair. “But Unverdus has a way, and it is now, that he calls us back to aid.”

“You already knew of our request?” he stammered.

“Yes, I did. Knitly, I have known this for some time now. It is time, if not now to act. Unverdus has shown me these things the night we settled, and now there is a physical need for us to be there.”

“Why have you waited so long? Until now to do something?”

“Time Knitly.” Derindel stepped outside as Yara spoke. “We needed time to rest. We needed time to quiet down you know. We are not immortal, and the violation of Kinasa has made that reality clear to us. Tell me Knitly, do you desire to return, to that home of yours?”

“Yes.”

“What what would you do if it was gone? Your house is gone, the land, all things capable of sustaining life...what would you do if it was all gone?”

“Rebuilt from the bottom to the top?” he answered.

“And if all that remained from the bottom to top, was nothingness. In other words, how would you build if the ground you wanted to lay your foundation did not exist?”

“I...I do not know. Why are you asking me this?”

“Because Knitly, when one loses hope, they often move it to something else. The answer to laying a foundation, the answer to the riddle is to lay it down before you. Where you perceive nothing, there is surely something my friend.” She waved her hands in front of him. “Take this for example. There is nothing here correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then, Knitly, how does life sustain itself? How are you able to breath? What are you breathing?”

“The air?”

“Is it?” Yara asked him,

Knitly was silent for a few moments. Was he meant to question the idea of the existence of air? Was air the existence of the force that he breathed that sustained his life? “Yes?”

“You doubt your answer. Tell me why?”

“Because I am unsure. This is a strange world I live in, and especially now, I often cannot shake the difference between reality and fiction.”

“You see Knitly, in Grento they hardly have wizards. They have philosophers, sorcerers, witches and the like. They are driven with answering questions, question the laws of nature when truth be told it is far more simple. Nature is not that complicated. You answered ‘Air’, because the philosophers, witches and sorcerers lead you to believe that you are breathing in air. They do not want you think outside the physical world. They do not want you to question their thoughts, or debate with them. They want supremacy over common thought, and by making many citizens of Grento think that, it becomes law, and anyone like myself who says otherwise are considered fools and menaces to their society. Grento prides itself on its freedom, but in reality, it was more enslaved than any other country, any other nation, and slowly as it was with Kenderhell, those chains are being broken. If we, the Protector’s of the Forest interfere, there will be struggles for knowledge, for power.”

“Why will that be the case? Can we not live in harmony?”

“We can, the citizens of Grento however cannot for they will hate us regardless. We refuse to live in a nation governed by orcs, where their influence is so greatly tolerated. Orcs themselves are not the problem. What is the problem is their beliefs. If we can destroy what they believe, we destroy their influence. So when we go, Knitly, I will tell you that we will do what we can to reverse that system of thought. Also, we would have to kill Sipus, which is no easy feat by anyone’s standards.”

“So if you come, you will restore Grento to what it was meant to be? To what we should be?”

“Correct. If we are unified, we can possibly provide the forces needed to protect Core Crest. Though for now they may be alright for the time being. They have the Warrior’s Guild there. They will rise to the fight if the need arises.”

“What of Shiro? Surely they need help if Glutua is up and about.” Knitly responded to her.

“Shiro was destroyed by Maya Truva, with the help of one of our own, not his fault by any means. He was enslaved to do her will consciously. Truly it was a horrible fate.”

“Shiro?” he asked himself. It was gone, and this was not to his liking. Nothing remains of Shiro, one of the kingdoms of men close to Cadrasar, and Korilya. This would make it difficult to help the dwarves, or get help from them. All the help they were going to get was from these elves, who are homeless. “So Maya Truva is up and about also? How many more of the Seven are there?!”

“Fakino was killed. Maya Truva was slain not that long ago. Glutua, whom we will be dealing with. Fastatru, the prideful ruler, Avara, the greedy ranger, Socorous, the sloth, and Irenue, the Wrathful Knight. They all are here, for a single purpose.”

“What purpose is that may I ask?”

Yara whistled. Derindel came in. “Yes?”

“Get all of the rangers assembled. Give direction, we are marching to Kenderhell this night. We will be there by the time Glutua strikes again. Rest, plenty of provisions.”  she answered.

“Yes, Prophet.” he answered.

“Oh, and one more thing, send Kridruk here. He is the only one who has seen the inside of Terra Silenti and lived to tell of it. I need him.” She turned to Knitly as Derindel gave her a nod to confirm that he understood her. “To bring Unverdus to the Earth and Kill him.”

“That cannot be possible. He is a God!”

“How does one kill a God?” Yara prompted the question. Knitly thought long and hard about it, but he shrugged when he could not come up with an answer. “You kill all of its followers. It is actually quite easy, worldly speaking to do so. Already, half a year has passed, and the number of elves has been greatly depleted from Alkathos.”

A great, large orc entered the room. It was a Kuai. “Yez?”

“Ah, Kridrik. I need you to take your equipment, and run to Terra Silenti. Find Kac, and let him know we are moving everything to Kenderhell. In Grento. He or at least Yun should know where it is. There are issues that need our attention. I think we have had enough rest.” Kridrik nodded and ran out of the tent. “Now you Knitly, I will give certain instruction to Cardur.”

“Who is that?”

“You will see.” She stood up, and took him by the hand, leading him out of the tent. Knitly was greatly fatigued with both his journey, and lots of information he received at once. He was not expecting a great philosophy or divinity lesson.

In great haste, elves were unpacking tents rapidly. Many of which were carelessly tossing weapons, and gear onto the ground right outside of their tents. After which, they had assembled into a large assembly to a near by firepit. There were so many, that they were shoulder to shoulder in this small clearing as Yara, stood atop a branch. “Tonight, we will be the light of the world. Kenderhell calls for our aid in the fight against Grento. When we defeat him, Kac will continue his journey, to fight the Wraiths, and keep them away from us, while we restore order in the west! Grento will be at peace, and we will rid the world of the corrupt assassin’s which will be no easy task on any account. Unverdus will guide us to the right path, and when the truth finally rings true on this side of the world, we will unite under one banner, and prevent the rise of Decrepantaur. Though many of you were alive to survive the drow, be comforted for now drow will be there! March my brothers! March my sisters! To Kenderhell we go!”

Knitly saw the great hosts of elves march through the forests, step by step, until it turned into a run. The group ran with such unison that he could see the wind parting for them.

“So ye be the one she refers to as Knitly eh?” Knitly turned to see the same dwarf that put his hands on earlier.

“Y...yes. That is I. Knitly from Kenderhell,at your service.”

“Good, go around the camp and help others pack, they will need the extra hand ye see, if we are to make that trip in such a short time. Men, women alike. They all need help.” Cardur said to him.

Knitly did as he was asked. He went to various tents, including the houses inside the trees, packing large sacks, and hauling them into wagons. He helped many elderly to the wagons as well to get them through, and out of the way, but more importantly, closer to their destination.

The packing was done by nightfall, and one ranger who stayed to help was Derindel. He helped many, and was also there to see the campsite emptied.

“Why are you still here?” Cardur asked. “Should ye not be with the rest of yer kin? going to fight the enemy?”

“Someone has to stay behind to let Kora and the others know where we are when they come back. It would look a little strange if none of us were here.” He laughed. “Some rest will do some good after living a few thousand years now so I would think.”

“Farewell Cardur. It may be the last I see of you and your drunk face.” Cardur laughed at the joke considering he knew exactly what he was talking about. “Until next time my friend.”

Knitly hopped on with the rest of the caravans which rolled over every bump and piece of uneasy ground there was. The caravan was large, and it took them right through Melo. He saw one halfling pulling his hair out as they rolled by. He was screaming and kicking dust in the air. It was humorous to him, all of that rage built up inside such a small vessel.