By Volk-Oboroten'
As soon as Eigird's men fled, Lowenherz resolved to follow them. He reached for the great axe, which Hermann had returned to the cart once the voivode ran away. But what about Fortinbras and his "witch" companion? Would they try to stop him from taking the weapon?
"Don't worry," said Fortinbras, sensing his unease, "We came here to rescue you from Eigird and his henchmen. Beruthiel and I just came from a meeting with Valaric, whose army will soon help Captain Tolvin liberate Caralore from the wizard's tyranny. Take the axe and pursue the voivode!"
Grasping the black axe's handle, Lowenherz said, "By Akkala, I'll hunt Eigird down for all the evil deeds he's wrought in his land. Not because you've given me an order!" As he ran outside, Lowenherz filled with anger, driven by his deep desire to destroy evildoers to fulfill his vow to the Lightbringer gods, but greatly amplified by the magic inherent in the axe itself.
Inside the guard house, Beruthiel approached Hermann, holding a metallic collar. "Don't be afraid," she said softly, clasping the dark green stone at the center of the collar. "This is a reward for your endurance in the face of Eigird's threats of torture. We were amazed that you didn't tell him more about what you saw in Nasoj's Citadel."
"I don't know what I saw," said the weasel-man. "But I recall clearly what I heard. You were the voice I heard in my tunnel! Weren't you the one who told me to grab the axe? How long were you imprisoned, Beruthiel? Why couldn't I see you?"
"I was confined for a very long time," she said sadly. "But not as long as the Nameless One, who shall someday regain his freedom. But let's not discuss such matters now. Put this collar around your neck and then fasten the latch in the back."
Hermann followed her instructions and was surprised to feel a tingling tensation all over once the green stone was locked in place, just over his neck. Looking down at his arm, he saw white fur melting back into his skin. His long nails began to shrink, gradually transforming into a more human shape.
"The collar will allow you to assume a human form when you choose. Its magic is limited, for you will revert to the form of a morphic ermine if it's removed or after you've worn it for a long period. Use it wisely, Hermann."
"Is there a way to get a permanent cure?"
Fortinbras slyly smiled at Beruthiel, and then addressed Hermann, "The Nameless One may grant the boon you seek if you serve him faithfully. His ways are mysterious, so even I, a priest of the Ancient Power, may not foretell when your wish will be granted."
"What about her?" asked Hermann, pointing at the maned wolf-woman on the floor. "She's unable to talk and acts more lupine than human. I fear Nasoj took her mind away!"
"Such matters would be difficult even for masters of ancient lore," replied Fortinbras. "I sense the wizard's spell encircles her, but cannot detect anything human in her aura."
"Perhaps Valaric would know something about such deep magic," added Beruthiel, as two of her cats strolled up to the guards' head on the floor. The felines began to play with the blood-soaked hair on the severed skull, batting it back and forth with their paws. "I specialize in cats, but he has special affinity with canines. Especially wolves. When he arrives in Caralore, I'm sure he'll be drawn to your wolf-lady. He may help reveal her identity to you, as well as other secrets."
Hermann then headed outside, eager to experience freedom after days of imprisonment in Nasoj's Citadel. Even better, he would be human again, at least for a little while. A few steps behind, the wolf-woman followed, awkwardly attempting to imitate his bipedal stance.
Inside the guard house, Beruthiel laughed vilely as two black cats tore the eyeballs out of the guard's decapitated head. Other felines then began to tear strips of flesh off the body of Eigird's soldier while the first pair greedily consumed the eyeballs, licking their whiskers as they relished their gory meal. Watching Hermann and his lupine companion depart, Fortinbras said, "Beruthiel, do you think she could be useful to the Emissary? He might be quite intrigued by a being which appears to be a cursed human but is actually something else."
"She lacks the intelligence to be a trusty servant of Gorthaur," replied the feline sorceress. "We need acolytes who will have unswerving, dedicated loyalty to the Nameless One. People who owe us something, not just stupid slaves like the lutins. Like Hermann. He'll come back to us soon, begging to have the ability to retain a human form for just a few hours each day."
Meanwhile, near the north gate of Caralore, Lowenherz ran through the streets, holding the black axe in both hands. People darted to each side, terrified at the sight of a wild-eyed maniac in torn clothes wielding a terrible weapon. Some shouted "Roderic's Bane!," having heard rumors of the axe's dread magic, and how it destroyed Lik's former guild lord. Others noted the feline menace in Lowenherz's slanted eyes before fleeing in panic.
Eigird had already reached the gate of the city, where some of his men were loading wagons with treasure accumulated by Nasoj's tribute men throughout the southern part of the Giantdowns. Some of the wagons were already out on the road, forming a column leading toward the woods north of the city. As the voivode hastily shoved some prized furs into a chest, he heard shouting from the men in the lead wagon.
"It's an ambush! The rebels are hiding in the woods."
In disarray, the once-orderly column broke, as the men drove their mules and horses back to the presumed safety of Caralore. But soldiers from Lik and Bremen hotly pursued them, more emerging from the trees with every passing minute. Eigird attempted to rally his retreating troops outside the gate, but found they only wanted to seek shelter in the city.
As Eigird's men fled inside, they were shocked to face a lone warrior carrying a black axe. As the axe-carrier ran at them, his weapon produced a strange musical tone, like several bells ringing. Then, the battle-crazed man began to swing his weapon wildly, slicing off limbs with each blow.
He was not alone in attacking Eigird's regiment, for arrows soon began to fall on them from above. Tolvin's archers, posted on the walls of Caralore, gathered above the north gate, and began firing sheets of fast-flying arrows into the voivode's men. "Treachery!" screamed Eigird, taking cover under of a low arch just before the portcullis.
In the center of Caralore, Hermann heard the distant sounds of battle and wondered where he should hide. His lupine companion licked his hand with her tongue and stared at him with pleading eyes, evidently very afraid of the raucous noise. Hermann saw others running in the streets, desperate to find safety, while some bolted their doors.
Where could he go? Someone might help him, now that he appeared fully human. But what about his friend? Hermann felt responsible for her, imagining that she had suffered years of torment in Nasoj's Citadel. He couldn't allow her to be killed just after gaining her freedom.
Then, he heard the welcome words, "Come inside!," from an old man in a nearby house. Hermann quickly ran in the open door, with the wolf-woman following close behind. Sitting down near the hearth as the old man bolted the door, Hermann was surprised that his host had not objected to the presence of a person who wasn't entirely human. In Nasojassa, any one who helped a cursed prisoner hide could be subject to the same curse as punishment.
The man soon approached Hermann, who was eager to thank him for his hospitality. But before Hermann could speak, the old man's gaze focused on the iron collar around his neck. "Take that off!" he spat. "I won't have any one wearing a Malachite symbol here! No one may bear the mark of Grond here!"
With great reluctance, Hermann reached for the latch on his collar. What would the man think when his human shape began to change into that of a weasel? But his host hadn't been hostile to the wolf woman, who even now was stretched out in front of the warm fire.
The instant Hermann touched the green stone next to the collar's metal clasp, he felt fur bursting out of his arms. Whatever power the collar had to control Nasoj's curse was broken the instant it was removed. Hermann felt himself rapidly transforming into the form of a bipedal ermine.
"I see that you have been seduced by the servants of the Ancient Evil," intoned the old man in a grave voice. "Do not believe their promises, for their plans for this land are even more perilous than Nasoj's evil schemes. Just look at the symbol on that collar you wore!"
Hermann glanced at the iron band in his claws, seeing the imprint of a mace next to the green stone. Or was it a warhammer? He didn't recognize it as a device used in any of the wizard's banners. "What is this hammer? Is this the ‘Grond' you mentioned?"
"It's a symbol used by the Dark One thousands of years ago, showing the power of the underworld. His servants now walk abroad, hoping to free their evil Master from his prison. If they succeed, all of the world will be consumed by the ineffable malignity of primordial necromancy."
"I've never heard of this," said Hermann. "Are you one of those Lightbringer priests? I thought they were all destroyed during the purges ages ago."
"I am Perun, one who knows much lore from the Giantdowns. You have no idea how many ages have passed here. Many generations have lived and died since Bauglir's evil last tainted this land. For when the Great Enemy's slaves last entered this village, elves still lived in the woods nearby."
"Elves? I don't think they've ever come north of the Barrier Range."
"Long ago, when the daedra were still young, many elves dwelt in the Giantdowns. But the dark powers were jealous of their skill and sought to ruin them. Wars ravaged the land, destroying all who dared to oppose the will of the Great Enemy. Most elves fled, but the remnant who stayed here were corrupted, changed into wretched beings. Those tortured slaves were the ancestors of the green-skinned lutins who now plague these lands."
"No one has ever told me about this," said Hermann. "I always thought the lutins were some sort of animal, changed by a wizard's spell into a mockery of the human form."
"Nasoj has sought to hide all knowledge of ancient lore, fearing that others will seek to topple him by drawing on other dark powers. But, in his desperation to seize Metamor Keep, he has deepened his folly, opening a gate into the Outer Void. This transgression allowed the immortal servants of the Nameless One to take shape again, seeking to spread their evil once more."
"Why should I believe this?" asked Hermann. "The people I met helped me escape from the voivode. I find it difficult to accept that they are truly evil."
"Evil can be very seductive," said the old man, stroking his beard in thought. "But it can make mistakes. What did they want you to do? Perhaps I can learn their plans."
Hermann then explained in detail how he'd escaped from Nasoj's citadel, particularly emphasizing the role of the magic axe in procuring his freedom. He doubted Perun's claim that his escape was all part of an evil scheme to free some ancient demon from its prison. The old man became especially interested when Hermann mentioned the runic weapon, for he was sure the black axe was a relic from ancient times.
"I've seen inscriptions in the ruined lower levels of city which describe such items," he said, peering at the burn marks of Hermann's paw pads. "Runic weapons like the one you described were used ages ago to fight Belegur's minions. It was very perilous to possess them if you did not have a pure heart, for any evildoer who dared to even touch such a holy item risked immediate destruction."
"How do you know this?" asked Hermann. "The guards in the wizard's fortress said that Nasoj was trying to learn runic magic. Can you perform any of the ancient spells?"
"No," said the man, shaking his head sadly. "Runic magic is a lost art. Even the oldest scrolls are useless, for all knowledge of such spells was destroyed when war ravaged this land."
"But Beruthiel said that she knew runic magic," Hermann protested.
"Don't trust the words of the children of Morgoth!" exclaimed the old man. "Beruthiel serves the flame of Udun, desiring only to lure mortals to follow the lies of her nefarious master. An evil being like her could not possibly wield a runic weapon, but she could seduce others to do her bidding unwittingly. Like you."
Looking down at his semi-canine companion, sleeping peacefully by the fire, Hermann asked, "Surely there must be some way something good can be salvaged from this. Is there any way I can help her? Can she become human again?"
"I cannot answer your second question," said the old man. "However, you may be able to help her by bringing her to Metamor Keep. There, ancient knowledge is available which could soften the impact of Nasoj's spells on her. It may help you as well."
As Hermann decided to travel to Metamor Keep, Perun glanced at the iron collar which he still clutched in his paw. "You should give that thing to me so I can destroy it. It is not wise to keep magic items given by servants of evil."
Hermann considered giving Perun the collar for a moment, but then decided to keep it. As the wolf-woman staggered uneasily to the door, he said to Perun, "It was a freely-offered gift, so it's mine now. I'll dispose of it when the magic runs out. After all, she said it only had limited power, so the collar can't be too dangerous."
Disappointed by Hermann's decision, Perun frowned as he walked to the door, "You must not place too much value on it, or its magic will draw you into darkness."
Hermann thought about these words for a second, as he held the door latch. Then, walking outside, he looked down at the light and dark green lines on the malachite stone at the center of the collar. "I cannot harm this thing, for it is precious to me," he said, facing Perun for the last time, "Even if its makers were evil, the collar may still bring good to me, allowing me a semblance of my former life. I cannot part with it."
Walking out into the snowy streets, Hermann dropped the collar in a pocket of his cloak, resolving not to wear it again until needed. His mind still spun with Perun's tales of ancient sorcery, uncertain what to think about the old man's claim that his benefactors were fiendish villains. He was even more unsure about his companion, the wolf-woman who struggled to stay on two feet next to him. What was she? Who was she? For a moment, he thought she looked something like a fox walking on stilts, with no real human features.
As Hermann and his friend walked west, battle raged at the north gate of Caralore. The dead lay in heaps, piled up high where Eigird's men had sought refuge from the onslaught of Valaric's safety. But they found no safety beneath the city walls, for Tolvin's archers let loose a deadly barrage, raining their missiles down upon the voivode's soldiers without mercy.
Eigird himself fled to the road with a few bodyguards just as the bulk of his regiment began to surrender. As he ran past Valaric, some wondered if Lik's lord might challenge the voivode to single combat. But Valaric held back, allowing Eigird and his terrified retainers to run away, up the long road which eventually led to Nasoj's Citadel.
A little while later, while the Lik regiment was sorting the spoils from Eigird's wagon train, Dagobert got a chance to speak to Valaric. The Lik soldiers were quite loyal to their leader now, but troubled by his decision not to pursue the fleeing voivode. "Shouldn't we have taken Eigird prisoner?" asked Dagobert. "He could raise a new army for Nasoj in the spring."
"The wizard may raise another army," said Valaric. "But he won't allow Eigird to lead it, at least not while he has other commanders."
"How are we going to defend this Caralore? So many more people leave in the great cities near Nasoj's Citadel, all garrisoned with many soldiers."
"Tolvin will defend Caralore. He knows that Nasoj may try to retake the city, but the spring thaw will arrive before any armies from the Citadel are able to march this far. Due to the muddy roads, no attack will be possible until summer, at the earliest."
"Can you trust Tolvin? People are nervous about this Emissary he serves, especially after you granted him land near Lik."
"I trust neither Tolvin nor the Emissary of the Nameless One. However, I'm sure Tolvin won't revive his old allegiance to Nasoj, for Eigird will tell the wizard about today's battle, emphasizing Tolvin's role. Nasoj's isn't a forgiving man, especially not of those who double-cross him."
Valaric then looked down the path at Lowenherz, who stood alone next to a tree. The runic axe lay against the tree's gnarled trunk its handle soaked in blood. Some soldiers stared at Lowenherz, whose eyes glowed red, still influenced by the axe's magic. "That weapon must be returned to Metamor Keep," Valaric said to Dagobert. "We must keep on good terms with them. They'll never forgive us if they don't get the axe back."
"I thought it should be returned to Lik, where people would honor its role in destroying Roderic's tyranny. But I suppose you're right, as we need any ally we can get, even a castle full of beast-men."
Valaric soon left Dagobert and the other men, intent on persuading Lowenherz to hand over the axe. Walking to the tree, he said to Lowenherz, once he was sure human soldiers couldn't hear, "One would almost think you were a manticore today, from the fury with which you attacked Eigird's men. Your ferocity in battle is great, greater even than the blood-frenzy of many of Lilith's favorite beasts."
With disdain, Lowenherz replied, "I shall leave the city before sundown, to continue my quest to battle Nasoj. Your offers mean nothing to me, for I won't work for the Vampire Queen! Especially not for a dire-wolf who enjoys pretending to be human!"
"So much anger," commented Valaric. "The magic from the runic axe must still be clouding your thoughts. Or perhaps it is your curse? Tolvin told me that his friends have the power to control transformations, like your were-manticore spell."
"By Akkala, never!" swore Lowenherz. Then, reaching for the axe, he said, "I'll never let you take it from me! It belongs to Misha, a noble warrior from Metamor Keep, not Lilith's lackeys! You'll have to kill me before you lay your filthy paws on it."
"I wouldn't dream of touching it," said Valaric, as he slowly backed away from Lowenherz. "In fact, I intend to return it to the Keepers today. Just before the battle, my scouts reported that Misha and a band of long scouts were near Caralore's west gate."
After more assurances from Valaric that he had not intention to possess the runic axe, Lowenherz placed the mighty weapon in a cart. Then, as sunset approached, Lowenherz headed for the woods, unwilling to consider any help proferred by Tolvin or Fortinbras. Someday, he would overcome his were-manticore curse, but not by serving the agents of darkness.
Just before he got to the trees, Lowenherz met a strange woman, whose eyes glowed yellow in the twilight. At her feet, black cats scampered back and forth, blocking his path. "Let me pass!" ordered Lowenherz. "I must get to the woods before sunset."
"Don't you recognize me?" asked Beruthiel. "I rescued you from Eigird's men, sending my cats to distract the voivoide's men. I'm your friend."
"No friend of Fortinbras is a friend of mine! I saw you with him."
"All I want to do is to help you. It can be so lonely in Caralore, not having anyone like myself here. We are both part-feline, so we have a special bond."
Feeling angry, Lowenherz said, "Please let me go. I'm afraid of what I might do as a manticore, for the axe's magic provoked such rage in me. I don't know if I can control it tonight."
"Wear this," suggested Beruthiel, as she handed him a collar with a shiny green stone. "This magic item will temporarily suppress your curse, allowing you to remain human tonight."
"I can't do anything which would offend Akkala," said Lowenherz, hesitating for a moment before he accepted Beruthiel's gift.
"I wouldn't want you to anger your goddess," replied Beruthiel as she coyly smiled at Lowenherz. As he put on the collar, she continued, "But this way, no one in Caralore will be at risk of being attacked by a rampaging manticore tonight."
Lowenherz locked the collar's clasp on his neck, as the sun slowly dropped below the horizon. For the first time in many years, he didn't experience a ghastly transformation at nightfall. Could Akkala have sent Beruthiel, to give him a taste of what true freedom from his curse would be like?
"Come with me," said Beruthiel, as her cats headed off into the grass to hunt mice. "They plan to return the magic axe to Misha tonight. I've heard that you met him in the battle at Starven. Let's head over to the west gate of Caralore so we can see him together."
While Lowenherz and Beruthiel walked together, Valaric directed a group of men to escort the axe to the west gate of Caralore, warning them to stay far away from the weapon. The warning was barely needed, for tales about how the axe's magic destroyed anyone with an impure heart were widespread. Only a fool would want to grab it and risk a horrible death, worse even than the tortures of Nasoj.
Passing through the far side of the city, Valaric spotted an odd pair ambling toward the gate, a weasel-man and wolf-woman. Judging from their fur and bestial forms, both were victims of the wizard's foul magic. The bipedal weasel seemed to stride forward with ease, but his female companion had great difficulty staying on two legs.
"Are you Hermann?" asked Valaric. "Lowenherz told me that you were the one who recovered Whisper, the magic axe of the Keepers, from deep within Nasoj's Citadel. One who possesses such cunning and bravery would be a great asset in Lik's army."
"That was my name," replied the weasel-man, "But I don't know what to do know. Dark sorcery has become part of my life, so much so that I don't know who or what to trust. I just want to help my friend recover her mind. Nasoj's curse on her is so severe that she can't speak!"
Looking at the wolf-woman, Valaric tried to recall the spells used by mages in Lilith's cult. He was sure he could make her understand him if he assumed lupine form. She would know the glory of serving the Forest Queen, fighting with the pack to get revenge on the wizard who had abused her.
But that would have to wait. Valaric couldn't allow the humans to know his true nature, at least not yet. Perhaps he would be able to visit the maned-wolf girl after dark some night, when the howls of Lilith's dire wolves would draw her into the forest.
Hermann watched Valaric gaze at his friend, looking deeply into her eyes. Somehow, he sensed that they had something deeply in common, for Valaric seemed entranced by her canine appearance. But what? Perhaps it was some sort of magic. "Lord Valaric, I plan to escort her to Metamor Keep, where they may have knowledge of lore to help ease her curse."
"You should ask the Long Scouts about this," said Valaric. Then, pointing to the cart with the magic axe, which was now rolling out to the gate, he added, "My men are returning Whisper to them this evening, for it rightfully belongs to Metamor. Talk to Misha, leader of the Long Scouts. I'm sure he'll know if your lady can be helped."
A few minutes later, Hermann and the mute maned-wolf woman met the Long Scouts outside Caralore's western gate. Valaric surprised the Metamor warriors by presenting them with Whisper, announcing that Hermann had personally reclaimed it from Nasoj's Citadel. Hermann then related his tale, describing how he'd wielded the magic axe against the guards.
As Hermann tried to explain how he'd traveled to Caralore with the runic weapon, Beruthiel appeared out of the twilight, walking through the cold mist next to Lowenherz. Misha, who knew Lowenherz was cursed to become a manticore at night, was shocked to see that he was still human. Or at least mostly human, for his eyes had a feline glow like those of Beruthiel.
Valaric's men pushed the cart forward, as Lowenherz began to explain how he had used the magic weapon in the battle with Eigird's men in Caralore. Misha grabbed the axe hastily with his unwounded left hand, glad to regain Whisper. He wondered how Lowenherz and Hermann had been able to wield it, and still live.
Before the Long Scouts left with Hermann and his friend, Valaric asked for aid from Metamor. Soldiers from the Midlands rescued the Keep from Nasoj's winter assault, staving off the last lutin attacks. Perhaps some men could be spared to defend Caralore and the other liberated towns from the wizard's wrath. Lik's army couldn't be everywhere.
"Anyone willing to fight Nasoj is welcome here," said Valaric as Misha prepared to leave with the other Long Scouts. "Fortinbras, a priest of the Malachite Order, a religious charity based here in Caralore, says any newcomers will be received with great hospitality. Half of the city is now empty, but it's sure to thrive once we restore peace and prosperity to the land."
The Long Scouts agreed to consider Valaric's proposal, although they were suspicious of words spoken by anyone who served Lilith. But did it really matter? As Metamor Keep was no longer besieged, people would be free to travel north. The southern duchies were overpopulated, filled with knights willing to seek fortune and adventure in distant lands, like the towns newly freed from Nasoj.