Fantasy & Sci-Fi

Albinor Chronicles Chapter 6
"Capture of Corellon"

By Marcus Pan

October 4, 002

For three days Corellon and his party stayed in the castle without seeing the master of the dark elves. Meals were brought to their rooms by hooded servants in flowing, black robes. They were pretty much left to their own, but quarantined in that wing of the castle by guards posted in the halls. Their rooms were in a small study area connected to a large library. They all perused the books there as the guards left them to do that.

Finally, on the afternoon of the third day, the elf that first led them into the castle three days earlier returned to tell them the master would see them. Leading them up a flight of stairs, they were left in a large council chamber. They spoke in silent whispers while sitting around a long, oak table. Doors to the north and west lead out to a hallway. A door to the south was locked. The seven sat on the west side of the long room before a window that looked westward to Lolth's Wood.

After nearly an hour of sitting and whispering had passed, the southern door opened. The usual, black figure gestured for them to enter. They slowly filed into the room, which was another council halle. They sat on the northern side of the long table. Across from them sat five figures, all in the typical, black, grey-trimmed robes. One had strange, spider-like figures stitched in his robe. Another had strange runes. The elf in the middle wore what seemed to be a finer garment. Corellon assumed him to be the master of the castle. They drew back their black hoods in unison. The faces of the drows were slimmer and sharper in features, their complexion a darker, grayish hue. Barrazzo fingered the hilt of his longsword beneath the table. "Take your hand from thy hilt, captain." said the elf with the spider runes on his robe. Reluctantly, Barrazzo withdrew his hand and placed it upon the table.

"Welcome to Drow Castle, Elven King." began the man in the middle. "I have been very busy and apologize for the wait for my counsel. I trust you were well provided for?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. You are at an advantage above us, fellowman. You know us. We do not know you." Corellon answered.

"Yes, we know you, Elven King. And your trusted captain, as well. As for us, I will tell you now. I am Champion Ragwulf Calds, King of the Drow. To my left," said he, gesturing to the man in spider-like runes, "is Lama Orduin Grimoire. To my right," gesturing to the man in the strange runes, "is Wizard Magi Ushimagrash. Also here is my captain, Champion Erric Vangroom and the squire, Champion Jaques Hierla."

"I see. If you know who we are so well, you must as well know our errand." said the Elven King.

"Aye. You wish to avoid war. So do we. But you do so in the strangest of manners coming to my home within Lolth's Wood. Bravery, stupidity, or both. I am not sure. I hope, for your sake, 'tis the first." said the master.

"Why doth thou mock me, Master Calds? I come in peace."

"One could not tell with a wary swordsman, like your captain, beside him."

"Shut your foul mouth, drow!" said Barrazzo, standing suddenly. The two beside Calds jumped up. After some heated bickering, the differences were solved as best they could be, which wasn't too good at all after such an outburst.

"Now, you wish to avoid war with the drow?" asked Calds after the argument had quelled.

"That I do." answered Corellon.

"That is a simple task, high elf." Pulling a piece of parchment from beneath his dark robe, he slid it across the table to Avantar. "Sign it. War will then be averted." finished Calds.

"This paper says you now own Alfeim, Calds. What are the high ones and woodland people to do?"

"Leave. Your people have not traveled too much. We want the land that once was ours again. You can find another. We can not. We're tired and weary folk and have traveled much while you rested here. We want to settle down and rest in Alfeim."

"This is a foolish thing to ask, Calds." Corellon said indignantly, sliding it back to him. "I have made an honest attempt at peace. I should have known better. I will return to my city and my people now. I have tarried here much too long." Corellon and his party turned to leave. Ragwulf rose, along with is party. The dark-robed ones began to go around either side of the table, coming towards them slowly. Ragwulf stood motionless, like a dark statue.

"I think not, Elven King. You do not think I could let you leave, do you? Sign the paper. Then you can go in peace and pack your things for your journey from Alfeim. Otherwise, you will enjoy the pleasures of Drow Castle for longer. MUCH longer." Corellon drew his khanate. Barrazzo quickly drew his longsword, eager for the blood of a drow to glimmer on his blade. Following their lead, the guards drew theirs.

"I will leave in peace, or you will leave in pieces, Calds."

"Guess it was stupidity I suspected, Elven King. You will not leave this castle. Nor your friends. Then I will swallow up your precious Alfeim by FORCE." A cackle rose in his throat. "Seize them!" he cried. The door to the north flew open and a half dozen drows poured in. Barrazzo leapt into the melee, swinging and shouting in the name of Corellon Avantar, Elven King. The guards did the same. Corellon joined the fight without a word. There was a blinding flash and Barrazzo yelped, falling motionless to the floor.

"I can't move, m'lord!" he screeched. Corellon turned to face Ushimagrash and rose his hands above him.

"Magic with magic, wizard." he said. There was another blinding flash and a white light filled the room, shimmering in the air. Ushimagrash covered his eyes and screamed as a blinding flash erupted inside his skull. The flash stayed, like a sun had lodged itself behind his eyes. Two drows grabbed Corellon from behind. Already, two of Corellon's men lay on the floor badly wounded. Four drow guards lay there as well, quelled by the blades of Barrazzo and his men. Barrazzo still lay on the ground, twitching violently with the magical paralyzation that seized his limbs. More drow elves came in, swords drawn. Calds himself threw back his robe and drew his longsword from its sheath. He leapt upon the table and stepped quickly across. Corellon still fought with the two drows that seized him from behind. A palace guard smashed one of the drows that held his king with the flat of his sword in his back forcing him to let go. With his right hand now free, Corellon reached around and cracked the other drow in his face, blood spurting from a now-broken nose. Now with both hands free, he clasped his ands together just as Calds reached him. Calds swung swiftly downwards with his blade, but where Corellon once stood there was nothing. From the other side of the room Ragwulf heard chanting in a high elven accent. Wary of the guards that fought on, he turned to face the Elven King. "King versus king, Calds." Spreading his hands out orange flame shot forth, spraying into the room from the tips of his fingers. They reached the dark elf who stood on the table quickly, giving him no time to react to the threat. He screamed as the fire reached him, dropped his sword and fell from the table onto the floor. Corellon did not notice Orduin Grimoire come up from behind. Nor did he see him raise his wand to strike. He had forgotten he was there. He struck the Elven King from behind, swiftly and strongly, with the head of his wand. Corellon fell violently to his knees. As he dropped, the last things he heard was Orduin yelling triumph, his men screaming of more drow elves, the crying whimpers of Barrazzo as he lay motionless on the floor, Ushimagrash who was also crying, Ragwulf who clambered up, the ringing of steel on steel, then silence...

The above item may have been edited by the author since its first appearance in Legends No. 10.