A New Moon (A Wolves Tale - Chapter 2)

…An unknown location atop the spine of the world...

The new moon sat high in the sky over the spine of the world, fierce winds howled across the jagged peaks of the spine. Small flickers of torch light can be seen traversing the only available path carved through the peaks and ragged terrain of the spine. The wind whispered in a long lost language as it tore through the landscape leading up to one of the highest peaks of the spine. Barely audible, but those who listen closely would be gifted with enlightenment of great ages past, of great kingdoms past, and of great leaders long since forgotten. In single file the robed and hooded figures followed the trail led by a dark blood red robed figure whose hood was adorned with a gold runic language. They had been trekking for weeks to reach this point and many of their weaker flock had fallen to the icy grip of the spine and the many denizens that roam it.

The snow intensified and the wind howled intensely now as they reached a small clearing. The leader of the group stopped and raised their wooden staff high into the air signaling the party to halt. At that moment a great bolt of lighting forked across the entirety of the visible sky and illuminated a small feverishly dug hole in the side of the glacier at the base of the peak. The leader signaled to the group to enter and they did, before entering, he looked one last time to the sky and spoke in a lost language.

"Tenebrae umbra nos, protege nos a lumine."

As the party crawled on their hands and knees it was clear that this passage hand been dug by all manner of tools and in some cases the lingering traces of what appeared to be claws of sorts. As they progressed the howling gales of wind played a symphony through the icy halls ahead, slowly the passage began to open up to a great cavern with many clusters ice spikes hanging from the above like great chandeliers and protruding from the ground like great spears bound together but pointing in many directions. As the group exited the passage their leader closed his eyes and lead them silently to a chamber adorned with stone pillars frozen into the ceiling and great silver braziers. At the center of the braziers lay an intricately designed marble slab lain down into the solid granite floor covered in a thin layer of ice. Opposite to the passage was a great natural stone viewing window down on the world of legends, adorned with many ice pillars and much snow.

The leader put his staff into the air and exclaimed, "emitte fulgentem lucem!", and the braziers illuminated after a small spark above each one in a dark purple glow tipped with lightning blue peaks. The 13 hooded figures assembled in a circle inside the braziers, around the marble slab with their leader standing with his back to the world of legends and began chanting. "O Tenebrosus Imperator, da nobis aurem tuam, Spiritus Indomitus, audi vocem nostram, Nuntius regnorum - AURIS NOSTRAM!". The others repeated the phrase and began to hum in unison raising their hands in the air and repeating the phrase several times. Finally all together the shouted, AURIS NOSTRAM!!!, the light from the braziers began to intensify. The wind howled with deafening purpose as the ground began to shake, the braziers became blindingly bright as a great purple beam of light emanated from the great visage of the spine. All at once the air was sucked from the room and the braziers ceased illumination. All of the black robed figures had fallen backwards onto the ground, concussed from the sound and light. Their leader pushed his hood back to reveal a frail, half dead human on the brink of death - he raised his staff into the air to finish the incantation. Surge, O spiritus incultorum silvarum, nuntius antiquorum linguarum, et ferox lupus regni!. At that moment the the braziers lit up with fierce emerald green flames and the half dead humans followers arose from the ground, no longer concussed they looked down only to see the marble slab was gone and what appeared to be grave was empty.

They looked to their leader for guidance, his backed now turned to them - one slowly approached him only to find he had been impaled by his staff and vicious claw had removed his face and opened up his chest, viscera hung from what remained of his rib cage. The twelve figures shrieked as their master had been slain by an unknown enemy and now stood as a warning to all remaining in the lair. As the braziers crackled with green flames they all rushed to back to the hole carved in the glacier - slowly they made their way back to the entrance crawling on their hands and knees as all manner of sounds began emanating from behind them. Blood curdling screams could be heard from behind as they rushed out of the cave and back into the blizzard that awaited them. The first to make it out of the hole was met by a claw swipe akin to four daggers being dragged across his skull, removing his face in one swipe. As the remaining three cultists emerged from the hole in the ice they were greeted by a landscape of viscera and blood where their brothers and sisters had been slain in the most gruesome of fashions. Torn limb from limb, skin flayed from their bodies their torsos sat in a single pile - seeing this the remaining three scattered in different directions without a care for the trail, desperate to escape what they had awoken.

A deafening howl pierced they wind, in their haste two had walked right to the edge of the mountain and fell to their doom. The last of the cultists was able to retrace their footsteps and found their way back to the path - dead set on reporting to their master what they had achieved. In his haste he slipped and tumbled back down the path, hitting his head on a rock his eyes closed. Slowly his eyes began to open, to his dismay he was back inside the hall overlooking the world of legends braziers burning bright emerald green surrounded by utter chaos and carnage as the other cultists had been brutally massacred - the floor covered in blood. There was truly no escape as he could no longer feel his hands or feet, they had succumb to frost burn and he was no longer able to move. A low growl could be heard from the adjacent darkness, claws dragging against ice sounded like nails on glass. The lights began to dim and in the darkness, heavy breathing, claws on ice getting closer and closer. With fiery fury and frost bound cunning, the cultist closed his eye and in an instant just like the braziers his light was extinguished.

All was quiet again on the spine of the world, now adorned with fresh necromancer blood, the summoned creature left his lair in seek of what was lost many years ago. The dead have arisen at the beckon call of the necromancer cults once thought all but snuffed out. The trees once again move with purpose as blight threatens to encompass the world of legends again and a great many long lost secrets may need to be revealed in order to safe guard the world of legends!