Moonshadow
Gwalihir
Member
Dawn came with the red sun Caratis this morning, followed swiftly by the blue sun, Baolis. Corellus meditated on the rise of the two, but did not wait for the yellow sun Cassius to follow after them later. Next dawn it would be a different pattern, but always it brought a wondrous beauty to the land. He stood and raised his battleaxe in salute to the heavens, then strode down the hill.
At the bottom he came to a spring running through the light woods, and saw four large raptors saddled, harnessed and muzzled, and ridden by cat people carrying spears and bows. The raptors were drinking at the spring, and he easily picked out a gray and black striped figure on the back of one raptor and raised his axe again in salute.
“Good meeting, friend Spencer of Wardholm. How goes the morning hunt?”
Spencer waved back once, but growled at the question. “Morning it is, but we have naught to show for the night’s efforts. Neither deer nor stompers nor any other creature worthy of our weapons presented themselves this night. Methinks these woods to be overhunted: further afield we shall go tonight.
“And what of your efforts, Traveller? Found some wayward dryad to lead home, or one of the horse people lost in the woods? I should think not.”
Corellus bowed. “You have judged well, Spencer. None have needed my succor this night. I shall make my way to Acton’s Bend, following this stream, and see if there are aught in need at that abode. Sorry to hear of your boring and fruitless excursion; may nightfall tonight grant you a swift race and kill.”
Spencer nodded. “I would say sorry to you for the same, but I know you prefer the peaceful evenings. With excitement comes people in pain, and you care for that naught.”
“You speak true, my friend. I shall catch up with you another time.”
And thus they parted ways, Corellus heading downstream as they went up.
He had not gone far when a thunderclap resounded from the woods ahead of him and to his right. He turned to look, and observed a fast moving, rolling cloud of colored lights flowing towards him. It was as if there had been some great explosion in the woods. He had never witnessed the arrival of Entries before, but what else could this be? He gasped and raised his axe yet again, this time chanting:
“Cumulus illuminati, benevidus est. Meum apparati benedictus. Ignice llameas e vidat meum.”
[ pseudo-Latin: *Brilliant cloud, you are welcome. Bless my tools and weapons. Ignite the flames and life force within me* ]
The cloud struck him with almost physical force, knocking him a couple of steps back as he waved the axe in great circles. The head ignited in red and green fire as he spun it, and the flames played over his entire figure.
And then the cloud moved on, a great expanding circle on the landscape. Gradually the flames on his body and weapon died down. Corellus wasted no time, hustling towards the center of its flow.
He thought of the mounted cat people and cringed. If there were any fertile females among them or their steeds, the babies born in a few months would be frightful indeed. Half lizard, half cat, either human sized and lizard faced yet covered in fur, or the size of the steeds (as big as a horse), with lizard feet and tail and front cat’s claws and face. At least, that was his prediction. Maybe they would have been fortunate and had no fertile females among them.
Corellus rechecked his bearings as his path took him uphill and away from the stream. Overhead and in the distance he could see half a dozen human-sized winged flyers coming this way. It was too far away to tell if they were bird people or land beings flying in floating harnesses. Either way, they could be beneficent or rapacious: coming to help or coming to rob the newcomers whose arrival had precipitated the cloud.
He reached the ridge and suddenly saw what lay ahead of him. It was not what he had expected. He was expecting a scattering of humans, lost and bewildered yet carrying some new high tech gadgets worth many coins and dressed in strange outfits. What he saw was a great metal box on wheels, high-centered on a small ridge. The box had windows in its top part, and was covered in magical runes. Only thanks to his most recent training was he able to decipher some of the words: “Ride the KC Metro,” “Channel 4 News with Bill Burke,” and “2019 Superbowl Champions!”
Wishing to appear less fearsome, Corellus quickly strapped the axe to his back with the blade down and out of sight. He walked slowly towards the box with his hands out and down, spread in a gesture of friendship.
Through the tinted windows he could barely make out several people, some of whom had seen him and now were becoming highly agitated. It looked as if they were exiting the box from a door on the other side, so he walked around to reach it. He was greeted by a dozen terrorized people, as strangely dressed as he had expected. But it wasn’t their clothes that gave him pause. To his senses, these people exuded non-magic or perhaps even anti magic as if it steamed off of them. He was quite certain no spells would work on them, either for healing or attack. He had never seen this before in his world. How was it possible?
“Good god, what is it?”
“Is that a minotaur? Don’t they live in mazes and eat people?”
“Back, you horrid beast, or I’ll give ya what for!”
The last was from a man in a blue uniform, waving a bat at him. The words were unfamiliar to Corellus, but Corellus’ axe and the man’s actions translated for him. Corellus sighed. This might be more difficult than he had thought. At least the staff could translate some of the language of new entries from the scrolls of young elders which were circulated amongst the mage knights.
„Gute Menschen auf der Erde: Willkommen in Somberlun, der Welt Ihres Mondschattens. Ist einer von Ihnen verletzt oder braucht er medizinische Hilfe? “
[ German: *“Good people of Earth: welcome to Somberlun, the world of your moonshadow. Are any of you injured or need medical assistance?”*]
At the bottom he came to a spring running through the light woods, and saw four large raptors saddled, harnessed and muzzled, and ridden by cat people carrying spears and bows. The raptors were drinking at the spring, and he easily picked out a gray and black striped figure on the back of one raptor and raised his axe again in salute.
“Good meeting, friend Spencer of Wardholm. How goes the morning hunt?”
Spencer waved back once, but growled at the question. “Morning it is, but we have naught to show for the night’s efforts. Neither deer nor stompers nor any other creature worthy of our weapons presented themselves this night. Methinks these woods to be overhunted: further afield we shall go tonight.
“And what of your efforts, Traveller? Found some wayward dryad to lead home, or one of the horse people lost in the woods? I should think not.”
Corellus bowed. “You have judged well, Spencer. None have needed my succor this night. I shall make my way to Acton’s Bend, following this stream, and see if there are aught in need at that abode. Sorry to hear of your boring and fruitless excursion; may nightfall tonight grant you a swift race and kill.”
Spencer nodded. “I would say sorry to you for the same, but I know you prefer the peaceful evenings. With excitement comes people in pain, and you care for that naught.”
“You speak true, my friend. I shall catch up with you another time.”
And thus they parted ways, Corellus heading downstream as they went up.
He had not gone far when a thunderclap resounded from the woods ahead of him and to his right. He turned to look, and observed a fast moving, rolling cloud of colored lights flowing towards him. It was as if there had been some great explosion in the woods. He had never witnessed the arrival of Entries before, but what else could this be? He gasped and raised his axe yet again, this time chanting:
“Cumulus illuminati, benevidus est. Meum apparati benedictus. Ignice llameas e vidat meum.”
[ pseudo-Latin: *Brilliant cloud, you are welcome. Bless my tools and weapons. Ignite the flames and life force within me* ]
The cloud struck him with almost physical force, knocking him a couple of steps back as he waved the axe in great circles. The head ignited in red and green fire as he spun it, and the flames played over his entire figure.
And then the cloud moved on, a great expanding circle on the landscape. Gradually the flames on his body and weapon died down. Corellus wasted no time, hustling towards the center of its flow.
He thought of the mounted cat people and cringed. If there were any fertile females among them or their steeds, the babies born in a few months would be frightful indeed. Half lizard, half cat, either human sized and lizard faced yet covered in fur, or the size of the steeds (as big as a horse), with lizard feet and tail and front cat’s claws and face. At least, that was his prediction. Maybe they would have been fortunate and had no fertile females among them.
Corellus rechecked his bearings as his path took him uphill and away from the stream. Overhead and in the distance he could see half a dozen human-sized winged flyers coming this way. It was too far away to tell if they were bird people or land beings flying in floating harnesses. Either way, they could be beneficent or rapacious: coming to help or coming to rob the newcomers whose arrival had precipitated the cloud.
He reached the ridge and suddenly saw what lay ahead of him. It was not what he had expected. He was expecting a scattering of humans, lost and bewildered yet carrying some new high tech gadgets worth many coins and dressed in strange outfits. What he saw was a great metal box on wheels, high-centered on a small ridge. The box had windows in its top part, and was covered in magical runes. Only thanks to his most recent training was he able to decipher some of the words: “Ride the KC Metro,” “Channel 4 News with Bill Burke,” and “2019 Superbowl Champions!”
Wishing to appear less fearsome, Corellus quickly strapped the axe to his back with the blade down and out of sight. He walked slowly towards the box with his hands out and down, spread in a gesture of friendship.
Through the tinted windows he could barely make out several people, some of whom had seen him and now were becoming highly agitated. It looked as if they were exiting the box from a door on the other side, so he walked around to reach it. He was greeted by a dozen terrorized people, as strangely dressed as he had expected. But it wasn’t their clothes that gave him pause. To his senses, these people exuded non-magic or perhaps even anti magic as if it steamed off of them. He was quite certain no spells would work on them, either for healing or attack. He had never seen this before in his world. How was it possible?
“Good god, what is it?”
“Is that a minotaur? Don’t they live in mazes and eat people?”
“Back, you horrid beast, or I’ll give ya what for!”
The last was from a man in a blue uniform, waving a bat at him. The words were unfamiliar to Corellus, but Corellus’ axe and the man’s actions translated for him. Corellus sighed. This might be more difficult than he had thought. At least the staff could translate some of the language of new entries from the scrolls of young elders which were circulated amongst the mage knights.
„Gute Menschen auf der Erde: Willkommen in Somberlun, der Welt Ihres Mondschattens. Ist einer von Ihnen verletzt oder braucht er medizinische Hilfe? “
[ German: *“Good people of Earth: welcome to Somberlun, the world of your moonshadow. Are any of you injured or need medical assistance?”*]
