This work in progress was inspired by and written to go with a card game. See the trailer at the end to discover some of the characters who will appear in following chapters. After many years, I am again in touch with N Star Studios. and Anthony Gibb's team who created this game. Thrilled to have permission to use their pics and perhaps work again in bringing Fussel's adventures to light.
So, here we go...
Chapter One.
“Who would disturb our celebrations?” Fussel whispered into his huge friend’s ear. “Father has been chasing shadows for weeks preparing for Malika’s birthday. He’s overwhelmed by the responsibility of playing host to a member of the Elfish Council.”
“Well, a distraught messenger is speaking with Malika now.” Hugo drained his flagon and licked his lips.
“The giving of the Gifted Gem ceremony went off without a wrinkle,” Fussel’s ears twitched as he tried to hear the messenger’s words. “What can possibly be worthy of interrupting Malika now?”
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| Fussel |
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Fussel laughed. Pushing his chair back, he watched the reaction as Hugo rose beside him. The orcish elf’s head missed the sloping roof of the cavern by a hand’s breadth. Hugo’s curses, when he forgot to duck as he moved through the Yacreen corridors amused his curious followers. His colourful outbursts educated the Yacreen youngsters who tagged along behind the awe-inspiring warrior. The bravest would occasionally dare to touch the massive battle hammer that never left Hugo’s side.
Now though, Fussel could see his friend’s green skin darken with embarrassment. Few knew of the orc elf’s interest in Malika. They would know a mixed blood warrior should not think of forming an association with an elfish healer of Malika’s class.
Fussel’s laughter died. Snow would fall in the Yacreen underground, before elf and orc would meet on even ground. He had invited Hugo to the healer’s birthday celebration, knowing the warrior would seek any way possible to earn Malika’s attention. He alsoknew how hard Hugo tried to keep his orcish temper in check.
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| Hugo |
“Listen, Malika is speaking to your father, Fussy.” Hugo pushed past seated Yacreen as he moved toward the top table. “You should be there. We should be there. Something is terribly wrong.”
Fussel followed in Hugo’s wake, smoothing the ruffled temper of disgruntled guests until the warrior reached the centre of the cavern. Here delicate curtains of limestone hung from invisible ceilings and seemed to ripple with the sudden tension in the hall.
Hugo grabbed Fussel’s shoulder, propelling him toward the troubled healer. There they could see a messenger’s news made Malika’s face grow pale and her eyes shone with unshed tears.
Although disturbed by Hugo’s immense size and his forceful passage through the crowd, none of the Yacreen dared speak ill of the orcish elf. Three years ago, Hugo helped take an urgent message to the Yacreen community in the northern realm. Without his strength and knowledge of the land above ground, Fussel would have perished and with him, the continuation of the Yacreen trade and mining agreements.
Once clear of the crowded tables, chairs and Yacreen legs, Fussel strode to where Malika leaned on his father’s arm. Her skin looked ashen in the feeble light, her hand trembled, and her eyes searched the gloom, as if looking for rescue. When she saw Hugo emerge from the shadows, her expression froze. Fussel read distrust on her perfect features and his heart ached for Hugo’s chances of ever winning the healer’s friendship.
“Preposterous!” Fussel’s father’s voice silenced the celebrations. His bearded chin wagged and his large eyes glowed. His gaze rested on Fussel and lifted to include Hugo. “My son will accompany you. His friend will keep you both safe.” The impetuous idea seemed to please Fussel’s father. Colour returned to aged cheeks and the full beard stopped trembling. With confidence Fussel didn’t share, his father patted the healer’s arm and gave a reassuring nod. “Do not fret my dearest Malika. I will see preparations are made immediately.”
“Preparations, father? What has happened?” Fussel dropped his voice to a whisper, as all eyes in the hall turned toward him. Silence spread, racing to the deepest shadows, as light flickered and shadows danced.
“Azira, the dark wizard, often treads evil paths in her search for power and wealth. Now she has taken hostage a group of elves from the fortressed town of Wherisall.” Malika’s words chilled Fussel’s blood. Azira’s name alone could curdle milk or send chickens off the lay. Stories told about her climb to power would scare mischievous children into obedience. “With the elves, she took several Yacreen traders who dwell above ground among us. Honoured citizens of our towns.”
Fussel watched Hugo’s hand tighten around the shaft of his battle hammer. The warrior dreamt of walking the streets of an elfish town as an equal. His elfish blood cried for the right to be among high blood kinfolk, rather than elfish society banishing him and regarding him as an orc.
“Hostages mean ransom. What does this ‘she wizard’ want in return for their safe release?” Fussel asked. The tension Malika showed, in the tightness around her eyes, spoke of more than a simple trade. Gems, the basis of all magic, and the currency above ground, would no doubt form part of the pay off. “You know we will aid the Elfish council, however we can, Healer.”
“The Gifted Gem, our crafted jewel is part of the price, Fussel.” His father’s voice carried through the gloom. Smoke haze and spiced air currents shimmered as a hundred Yacreen gasped. “Azira wants the Gem of Healing Power we have given to Malika.”
“That is preposterous!” Fussel’s jaw clamped shut. He shook his head and fought the urge to grind his teeth with rage. “Never. The power to heal is valued beyond price. We have given the gem to one with compassion and goodness in her heart. For the Gifted Gem to fall into evil hands is unthinkable.”
“We know, Fussel, but what choice do we have?” Malika drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Her green eyes flashed in the radiance of a flickering light stone. “Azira has given me until the winter solstice. I will take the gem to her and see my people, and your traders, free.”
“And we shall go with you, Healer.” Hugo lifted his battle hammer and dropped its heavy head onto the ground. The reverberations rattled cups and plates while the Yacreen guests joined with his resolution and began to stamp their feet. “Until this is resolved and the gem is safe in your hands with your people free and unharmed, Fussel and I will protect you, Malika.”
“An orc, offering to help an elf?” Malika looked from Fussel to his father and let her gaze rest on Hugo’s earnest expression. “Well, I cannot take the time to return to the city and recruit a following, so I will accept your aid.”
Fussel nudged Hugo, before the warrior’s grin might rouse doubts in the healer’s mind, about his intentions. The orcish elf snorted and lifted the battle hammer to his shoulder.
“Good. Then let us see to these preparations.”
****
“I don’t travel with orcs, Fussel. It’s just not seemly.” Malika muttered as she shrugged her sleeping roll higher on her shoulders. “This is the same orc who accompanied you on your adventure?”
“Hugo is not an orc, Malika.” Fussel shaded his eyes. Although only a single moon and a smattering of stars littered the sky, the above ground light bothered his eyes. “Hugo is a friend and his elfish nature is stronger than the other.”
“And he’s not deaf,” Hugo added from where he paced ahead. “If we are going to reach the Phantom Fairy Cascades before the solstice, we need to keep moving. We are carrying a precious gem, so we need to keep together and keep our eyes open.”
“Who put him in charge?” Malika halted, turning to Fussel with a scowl. “I am one of the Elfish council, a High Elf Healer. Fussel, I know your father meant well, but I cannot have a hybrid orc taking command.”
“Please Malika, we know you are upset and this isn’t the sort of travel you are accustomed to, but Hugo is the best guide the Yacreen know. I trust him with my life. I suggest you allow him to be our guide.”
“I cannot believe I am hearing this.” Malika’s hands tightened around the straps of her pack. “We can hire help at the nearest town, we don’t need this brute. Do we, Fussel?”
“Brute?” Hugo laughed a bitter laugh. “I guess the lady is right, Fussy. If she doesn’t want my help, I have other places I can be.”
“Good. Go. Fussel and I will make our own way.” Malika lifted her chin and starlight glinted in her eyes. “Be on your way, Orc.”
“Hugo, wait.” Fussel dropped his pack and lifted his hands in frustration. “Malika, do you think you can trust hired help? If they knew of the gem you are carrying, they could be more threat than Azira.”
“We need not tell them anything.” Malika pouted. Fussel took the opportunity to roll his shoulders beneath his pack straps while the elf gathered her breath. “I have never found trust a problem among mercenary elves.”
“The nearest elfish settlement is three days to the south. We are heading to the northeast. Malika, the only mercenaries you will find around here are humans, orcish elves or tree dwarves.” Fussel counted each race on his fingers. “Now, unless you know a spell of loyalty way beyond what is in the text books, I wouldn’t trust any of them with my collection of dead beetles, let alone a gem of any value. Still, if that is your choice…”
“I’ll be on my way.” Hugo swung his battle hammer to his shoulder, flicked a hand in farewell and winked at Fussel when Malika looked away. “Good luck, Healer. Was nice meeting you.”
“Malika?” Fussel looked toward the healer.
“Oh, all right.” Malika sighed and shook her head. “Orc, you can stay.”
“Orc?” Hugo snorted and kept walking. Fussel met Malika’s unhappy scowl with a shrug and grabbed his pack.
“All right… Hugo. For now, until we find another guide, you can travel with us.” Malika smiled a tight smile and gestured for Hugo to lead the way.
“I guess that’s fine with me.” Hugo nodded. “Like I said, stay together and keep your eyes open.”
Fussel waited until Malika gathered her pack and followed the warrior, before he allowed himself to smile. This trip, he decided with a sigh, was not going to be a barrel of laughs.
***
“I don’t eat meat.” Malika screwed her nose up at the carcass Hugo skinned with a practised skill. “Never have, never will. I am a Healer. We don’t eat meat.”
“Of course you don’t.” Hugo looked to where Fussel struggled to call fire into a pyramid of damp branches. “There is dark bread, fruit, cheese and nuts in my pack, Healer. Help yourself. Fussy, what is keeping you? Use a gem, we don’t want to waste all day.”
“Leave me alone, Hugo. My fire gem is fading. I don’t want to waste it.”
“Use your eyes then.”
“Eyes?” Malika eased her boots off and began massaging the soles of her feet. “What does the orc… I mean what does Hugo mean, Fussel?”
“Haven’t you told her? I thought everyone knew.” Hugo stripped the pelt from the carcass and spitted the hare while Fussel swallowed and tried to hide his discomfort.
“It’s a sort of an… of an… an ability I have. Only sometimes.” He hated talking about the way he could cause fire to erupt where his eyes focused. The strange ‘skill’, as Hugo called it, only worked when he was frightened. On his adventure, three years ago, that proved to be far too often. He hadn’t worked with the skill much since then and never just to light a stubborn fire. For the High Elf Healer to know he could raise fire without a gem seemed like sharing an intimate secret with a stranger. He met her gaze and realised Malika’s interest was genuine. Her eyes didn’t mock him for being different, as she might mock Hugo.
“How extraordinary, do other Yacreen have the same ability?” Malika asked as she began to unbuckle Hugo’s pack. “You look uncomfortable, Fussel, yet such a skill could be useful. You ought to practise, learn to control the talent. I will help you if I can.”
“Thank you, but I would rather not…” Fussel could feel blood rush to his face. He turned away, fearing the elf would recognise his embarrassment. “Do you think I could learn to control? No…” He shook his head remembering the rage that accompanied the strange experience as flames flickered and then roared when he focused his concentration and his anger.
“You underestimate the power of your mind, Fussel. If it upsets you, we can leave it now.” Malika seemed to understand his discomfort. She began rummaging through Hugo’s pack. The orcish elf nudged Fussel away from the damp firewood. With a simple spell powered by a strong fire gem, the warrior took over lighting the fire.
“Upset?” Fussel muttered, leaving Hugo to brace the spitted carcass across the hungry flames. “I am not upset.” He lied, hoping the elf would leave well enough alone. “I am starving. How far have we walked today?”
“Change the subject?” Hugo wiped his greasy hands on his breeches and began feeding branches to the flames. “We have come six leagues. Tomorrow we will reach Bent Goblins Crossing, with luck.”
“Good luck,” Malika corrected, dragging a collection of shirts and a spare pair of breeches from Hugo’s pack. “This pack has no bottom, is there really food…” Her words stopped as she lifted a dog-eared spell book clear of the clothing. Fussel could see the healer’s curiosity grow as she turned the small worn book in her hands. With a sigh, she flicked through the grimed pages. She tutted and smiled and spoke to the pages as if they were old friends.
Hugo stopped turning the spit to watch. Fussel could see the warrior tense. Green nostrils flared as the half-breed held his breath. The book of healing spells travelled with Hugo, as his next most prized possession after the battle hammer. The orc elf studied the spells, knew them all by heart, every gesture every tone and every rune. However, without initiation into an elfish guild, he could never hope to become a healer.
“This book…” Malika lifted her gaze toward the warrior before meeting Fussel’s gaze. “He reads elfish? The orc?”
“Hugo is half elf. You do him an injustice thinking of him as an orc, Malika.” Fussel bit his tongue but nothing could stop him from proceeding. “We have a ways to travel. Give him a chance. He’s more elf than most elves I know. My father vouches for him, isn’t that good enough for you?”
“Fussel, anyone who has read and re read the knowledge in these pages, who reveres our teachings as the owner of this book has done, deserves a chance.” Malika lifted her chin and with a smile that eclipsed the light of the morning sun, turned to Hugo. “Hugo, forgive me my prejudice. Can we start over? Perhaps I can help you become a healer, if you can prove you are stronger than your orcish bloodlines suggest.”
“Are your serious, Malika, or just tormenting me?” Hugo didn’t lift his head, or stop turning the spit. Fussel held his breath, sharing his friend’s hopes, praying that Malika would take the risk of trusting the warrior.
“My word, Hugo. If we rescue the hostages and return unscathed, I will see you are given the training to enter my guild.” She wrapped the book in a clean shirt and replaced the bundle in Hugo’s pack. “Of course, there is a way to go yet… and we have Azira to face.”
“A walk in the forest, lady. I will not let you down.” Hugo’s grin showed his teeth and his eyes gleamed in the crisp sunshine. “Did you find the food?”
“You packed these nuts and things for me?” Malika grabbed a dilly bag of food and proceeded to unwrap a lump of cheese. “Perhaps you aren’t all orc.”
***
