C.P. Bird - The Portaellen War Chronicles

Normauss watched briefly as the two headed creature, ripped flesh from the bone. He shuddered, once again, as one head, suddenly turned, to stare at him.

‘Come on troll. We have no time to lose,’ stated the knight.

Normauss, suddenly gasped, as the dark sky, unexpectedly exploded, with a white flash of lightning. It lit the whole ravine briefly, to reveal the secrets within, the darkness, and its shadows.

For a fleeting moment, the troll saw the narrow corridor, of the ravine, through the jagged, black rocks that seemed to go on forever, into the blackness, and beyond.

The drizzle had now turned, to heavy rain. Thunder, suddenly exploded overhead, like a thousand cannons, echoing down the ravine. Normauss, covered his ears. He hated the thunder of Hells Point, more than its lightning.

Without any warning, the troll was abruptly hoisted, onto the back, of one of the knights black steeds.

A lightning bolt, then shot from the dark, rumbling sky, and hit a gnarled old tree trunk, that hung from a ledge above them. The trunk instantaneously burst into flames and came crashing down onto the ravine floor.

One of the black steeds, became spooked, and reared up, on its hind legs. Its rider was almost thrown, as he struggled to stay on his mount.

‘Time to go,’ came, the instantaneous order, as another rumble of thunder, exploded above their heads.

As, they sped away, down the dark, and narrow, rocky ravine, of Hells Point, Normauss held on, for his dear life.

Looking up, at the inky, night sky, the troll shook, as the angry, sky exploded once more, with all its fury.

Normauss, thanked the Gods, that he was leaving this place. The place, where those same Gods, had positioned, Wulfdaeden’s one and only portal.

***

The foreboding sight, of the Fortress Of Fear, came into view for the riders, as they reached the brow of a steep hill. Negotiating, the unpredictable terrain, as they made their way down the treacherous slope of the hill, proved tricky, for the riders and their steed’s. The ground was soft and uneven, and littered with stones, that tested the hooves of the knight’s mounts.

Normauss, was being thrown around, like a rag doll. He became nervous, every time the back legs, of his ride slipped.

The troll had only been to the fortress, once before. And, this was the first time, that he had seen it from the north. Viewing it from the vista, of the steep hill, had enhanced the dominant look of the enormous structure, and its high, soaring towers, that disappeared up, into the night sky.

According to legend, the towers in the four corners, rose high above the clouds, strong and proud. Each, with a Tri-lance flag, proudly raised.

The fortress has high, thick stone walls that were a mile wide on all sides. Inside, the impenetrable walls, is a city. The whole structure is built into the side, of a granite cliff, that disappears up, into the dark sky.

The area is known, as the Badlands. The capital, of Wulfdaeden.

As, the riders reached the flat, muddy ground, that surrounded the fortress, Normauss could see a strange mist, that looked as if it was going to surround them. He quickly noticed that it had developed, some density.

The thick, choking fog, rapidly enveloped, everything around it, as it swirled and danced amongst them, with menace.

Nervously, the troll strained his eyes to see. He, suddenly twitched, to his left, when he heard, several faint, and barely audible moans and groans. They began to grow in volume. It wasn’t long, before there were moans, groans and voices speaking, all around them.

Normauss, had heard about the fog before. This was the first time; he had experienced it. Other trolls had told him about it, around the campfires, back home.

Tales were told of innocent trolls and Fantaellen’s being captured, tortured, then killed, in the fortress. The fog is said to be, the faceless, souls of those beings, and is called, The Fog of Lost Souls.

The further, they rode into the fog, the thicker it became, and the more amplified, the moans grew. Periodic screams startled the troll which, were followed by crying, and voices of despair and pain.

What, Normauss experienced as he rode towards a meeting with his master, made him feel such pain and despair, unlike anything he had ever felt before. The troll, uncharacteristically, began to cry. Something, he never did. Even, as a young troll.

‘First time, through the fog?’ growled, a Blackheart knight, who could see the troll’s anxiety.

‘Yes,’ Normauss mumbled.

The thick fog slowly dissipated, and the riders could see a little further into the distance. This was the moment that the imposing, and grandiose magnificence, of the Fortress Of Fear, suddenly came into view.

Normauss the troll’s eyes opened wide, in wonderment, and he instantly gasped, at the incredible sight before him. Words, defied him, at this moment. All he could do, was stare.

It wasn’t long, before the riders, came into the view of the Blackheart guards, along the battlements. A call suddenly rang out, from inside the huge, thick walls, to lower the drawbridge.

The enormous drawbridge of the fortress was slowly lowered, as the riders approached. The enormously long, iron chains, that pulled the extensive structure, creaked and groaned, as they took the weight, and the tension.

When, the drawbridge, was close to the ground, it was suddenly dropped, and an instantaneous, loud impact, violently shook, the earth. Hundreds of black Ravens, immediately scattered from the battlements, startled by the thundering noise.

Normauss, himself, was rattled and shaken. His mount had reared up upon the impact, which had caused the ground beneath them to violently shake.

The startled troll had held on to his rider, for dear life, whilst, the Blackheart knight, controlled the panicked animal. Eventually, with the stroke of its mane, the calm hand, had worked.

As, the riders made their way towards the drawbridge, Normauss, strained his neck to see. Looking up, at the black stone walls, that seemed to go beyond, the dark sky above, the troll, could just about see, the guards on the walls, and hear the orders, being called out. His attention was taken, by the flickering torches, and movement, from the windows and arrow slits, spread across, the enormous structure.

The drawbridge, seemed to go on forever, as the hooves of the riders, thundered towards, the main gate. The extremely high, stone built arch way, lit by torches, fixed on to the stonework, now opened up, as the portcullis, was raised, by its chains.

The troll’s heart began to pound in his chest. His short, stocky, hairy legs, turned to jelly, as they neared. Suddenly they rode through, the stone arch way of the main gate coming to a halt in the dark, dimly lit courtyard.

Normauss now felt the sudden overpowering feelings, that he had experienced, the first time he came to the fortress. He had hoped, that on his next visit, the feeling of dread and fear, would not have taken over his senses, and reduced him to a nervous wreck. He had been wrong.

Without warning, the troll, was suddenly and unceremoniously pulled from his mount, and before he could protest, he was thrown to the ground. Normauss gasped, as he hit the hard, stone cobbles, with such force, that his whole body jolted on impact.

A couple of the Blackheart knights laughed, as they watched the troll struggle to compose himself as a sharp pain, pulsed through his body. Defiantly, Normauss got to his feet, whilst gasping for air, gulping it in, as he struggled to breath.

‘This way troll,’ came the order. ‘Now!’

A forceful shove from behind, propelled Normauss forward. For a brief moment, he stumbled, before regaining his footing. The shaken troll suddenly grabbed hold of his left hand, which had begun to shake.