《The Sagas of Mortaholme》Chapter 14:

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Alun traipsed after Orei and Huldain, finally conceding to the fact that ranging may not be the most action orientated career path. However, his two days on the job allowed his learning curve to sky rocket. In his flight from Stonehill, Alun had found that without Orei, he would have been lost in the endless green of the forest from the moment he stepped into the leafy dark. But now, after watching Orei track through the hidden paths between the trunks and over the roots of the Black Forest, Alun felt confident in his ability to navigate the green roads beneath the branches. He had also been taught the basics of marksmanship and self-defence with his new weapons – including the revolver, which he found to be very loud. As Alun learned to use his own weapons, Orei taught herself how to perfect the use of the rifle, but, like Alun, she found it extremely loud; the echoing boom flew around the surrounding forest and bounced against the trees, causing birds to take flight around the three rangers.

Orei led the way with Alun close behind. Huldain kept a steady, loping pace behind them, taking in their surroundings with a large smile about his bushy face, as if he were walking through a garden that had finally come into bloom. Alun was beginning to find that the way from Stonehill to Doflhiem was, for the most part, downhill, which meant that the way back was mostly uphill.

It took them a day and a half before they reached the sulphur crested ridge where Orei had released her second canister against the wargs. Paw prints littered the ground and Huldain stooped to look at them. He followed a set for a while with Orei and Alun tailing him, crossbows at the ready. They had decided to stop using the revolver and rifle for the time being, due to their proximity to Stonehill and not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from the strange wargs. Huldain continued on after the prints; his large cloak flared out behind him, and a small breeze picked at his hair and beard. He held his massive axe in one hand and occasionally used it for support when climbing a particularly steep incline.

Alun could tell from the light in the trees and the smell in the air that Stonehill was not far away. The previous day and a half of trekking had been spent in similar dense forest, but now as the beams of light which sparkled against Orei's axes and armour became denser, and the smell of mulching, decaying wood thinned in Alun's nostrils, he could tell that a vast clearing lay ahead. The wargs had used a similar forest road to the ones Orei and Huldain used in their ranging, and this seemed to trouble them a great deal. They discussed it in hushed tones as they continued to follow the wargs prints.

"I don't know, Huldain,” Orei said. “To use the roads, it shows a certain degree of sense that I hoped these bastards would nae have. To use the roads means they know how to navigate these woods; it means they don't want to get lost."

Huldain nodded. “I fear you are right,” he said, “this leaves us with only one course of action."

Orei glanced up at Huldain. "And what’s that?"

Huldain paused in his tracking just as the branches cleared onto the scorched landscape around Stonehill. "We must kill them all."

Huldain straightened up to his fullest height and strode boldly out into the clearing. Orei peered out of the undergrowth, then beckoned Alun to follow as she pulled out her rifle and prepared to fire, no longer caring for secrecy. Alun cocked his revolver, and followed the other two rangers down the south-eastern slope into Stonehill. As they passed the ruined homesteads on the outskirts of the town, howls echoed around the desolate buildings, chiming like the perverted bell of a twisted church. Alun, Orei, and Huldain stood back to back, shooting looks this way and that for any signs of the mutated monsters. Huldain hefted his axe, Orei looked down the sights of her rifle, and Alun held on to his revolver, eyeing the roofs and alleys that surrounded them.

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Suddenly, out of a small alleyway on the far end of the main street, a pair of grotesque canine mutants slunk out with a purposeful pace. They drew closer to the three rangers, with more gathered from the darkest shadows of the desolate town. Huldain cursed as he saw the sheer number of sharp fanged, razor clawed, yellow eyed fiends loping towards them. He brought his axe up just as Orei and Alun opened fire.

They scattered, those wargs, ill prepared for the fire that reigned down upon them. Orei picked off warg after warg as they fell from the higher buildings, Alun shot back the ones that now came charging from the lower shades. The gunfire caused the wargs to panic, but it was only a matter of time before the bangs from their Dwarvish weapons ceased. Alun looked in horror as he realized he had run dry of shots. The same had happened to Orei, who cursed colourfully in Dwarvish, dropped the rifle, too late to reload, and unsheathed her axes, leaving Alun to holster his revolver, and pull forth his own issued axe.

The wargs gave out a triumphant howl and charged with renewed vigour. Yet it was now that Huldain stepped to the fore, in front of Orei and Alun. He lifted up his giant axe, and brought it down with all his might upon the cobblestones of Stonehill.

A bright crimson light erupted from Huldain's axe, and the wargs stopped dead in their tracks. Cracks appeared between the cobblestones, glowing with same light which cascaded out from the axe’s blade. Within moments of it striking the ground, the street and with it, the whole town of Stonehill, flew in all directions, shattering what was left of the town.

Alun and Orei had shielded their eyes from the explosion, and looked about them peering through the dust and rubble to a town that had been standing seconds before, now reduced to a steaming, blood splattered crater. Huldain straightened and looked around at the destruction he had caused. Not a single warg survived and, as he hefted his axe onto his shoulder, neither had Stonehill.

Alun stood shaking beside Orei. He knew that Stonehill was lost forever with the whole populace being massacred, but as he looked at the rubble and mutilated wargs, he felt that now more than ever, there was no going back. Huldain waited for Orei to pick up her rifle and then started to walk on in the direction of the northern border mountains.

Alun still stood for a moment shaking, and then snapped. "Huldain, what in Odin’s name was that?"

Huldain paused. Looking back at Alun, he said simply, "Magic, Alun."

Alun frowned, asking. "Magic? What do you mean magic?"

Huldain continued walking and said over his shoulder in gruff tones, "Magic. As in, I just saved your life so don't question the impossible."

Alun grumbled to himself, but with a motivating nudge from Orei, he followed Huldain out of his destroyed hometown and made for the mountains.

The foothills began to steepen, and the green earth of the forest started to turn into hard and rocky ground. The forest to the north of Stonehill was thinner than the one further south, as the altitude caused the aged trees to grow slower and smaller. The maples and oaks had been left behind down in the warmer valleys, and up in the heights of the northern border, spruce and birch trees made up the overhead canopies. Pine trees and other evergreens also grew throughout, giving the landscape a spiteful and haunted feel.

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Alun, Orei, and Huldain passed through the high valleys and ravines of the northern border mountains, with Orei looked desperately for any signs of a Dwarven passage through. The harsh weather had eroded much of these paths, and as Huldain joined the hunt, night came reeling in, forcing them to make camp. It was the third night in the wilderness for Alun, and although usually he had found it hard to sleep, out here he had no problems.

The night was half gone when Orei roused Alun from his bed to take watch. The three of them had been rotating throughout the night, watching the stars and counting four hours each before the next would take up the post. Alun wrapped his blankets about him, and sat on a fallen trunk. A small fire burned next to both Huldain and Orei as they slept, keeping them warm in the frosty heights of the mountains.

Clouds had covered much of the sky, making it hard to see the stars and moon which floated ominously above, lighting up the grey clouds and causing strange shadows to imprint upon them. Finally, some clouds gave way, and allowed Alun an unrestricted view of the full moon. Beams of light shot through the branches, and lit up the forested scene around him. Strange glowing lights seemed to pulse from the ground, and Alun frowned as he pulled out his axe and went over to inspect them. He leant down and hit it with his axe, producing a light ting, and as he tried it again, Alun realized that the glowing, pulsing orbs were in fact rocks.

Alun looked up, and saw a distinct line trail higher into the mountains. He rushed back into camp and shook Orei and Huldain awake. "Orei, wake up! Look at this! Come here!"

Orei rubbed her eyes, and sluggishly followed Alun, whilst Huldain rolled over, waiting for Orei to come back and tell him it was important. Orei stopped short as she looked at the rocks through groggy eyes, and followed Alun's finger as he trailed the glowing track through the mountains. Processing this, her face lit up and she stumbled back to camp and began packing her equipment.

Huldain got up and did the same. "What is it, Orei? What did Alun find?"

Orei paused in her packing. "Alun found moonstone, Huldain. We’ve found our path through the mountains!"

She quickly finished packing, pulled her black cloak about herself, and used her axe as a walking stick. Huldain grabbed Alun's gear as well as his own, and followed Orei to where Alun had found the trail.

Alun watched Huldain and Orei climb up after him, waiting for his pack. Huldain passed it over and then, when all three were ready, they started off into the night, following the Dwarven moonstone trail. The dark ominous shadows of the mountains dominated the surrounding landscape as the moonstone trail led them higher and higher. Finally, the ground plateaued in the crux of two giant mountains.

Orei, Huldain and Alun continued on, walking between the two mammoth structures. The Dwarven trail that accompanied the moonstone became clearer as the sheltering protection of the ranges enveloped them. Steep edges often loomed next to the trail, causing Alun to slow his pace. The moon began to sink in the sky, making the moonstone dim, and eventually cease, leaving the dark Dwarven path on its own.

Huldain decided to wait. "It is too dangerous to continue with no light. Wait for the sun to rise, then we shall walk the Dwarven path."

They made camp, and waited for the sun to shine over the northern peaks of the border.

Alun heard flowing water, and peered over the ravine's edge to see what was at the bottom.

Huldain walked over to Alun and sat beside him. "That is the western fork of the Mother-locke river, which trails through Stonehill and further down through Cornerstone."

Alun sat solemnly, still upset with Huldain over the complete destruction he had wrought in Stonehill.

Seeing this, Huldain cleared his throat, a noise akin to a bear’s growl. "Look, lad. I am sorry for what happened to Stonehill. I only did what I thought was the right move in that situation. If I would have paused, we would’ve died."

Alun looked up at Huldain. He was frowning, anxious for Alun to know he had done all he could. His empty socket wrinkled strangely around its scar, and his aged features seemed to show more now, on the road, than they had done in his forge.

Alun dipped his head, accepting Huldain's apology, and said, "It’s alright Huldain. I haven't lived in Stonehill for many years. Besides, it was already gone when you levelled it."

Giving Huldain a hollow smile, Alun watched as the sun shone down into the ravine.

They continued on, following the Dwarven trail now that the moonstone had gone. Shadows passed over the ravine, and Alun frowned as he looked up to see what was making them. Massive birds soared through the air high above, nesting on the mountain tops.

Huldain looked up at them too, and growled.

Alun looked around to Huldain. "What is it?"

Huldain pointed to the birds, and Orei looked this time, letting out a groan similar to that of Huldain's growl.

"Rocs," said Huldain. "Or Thunder-birds, depending on where you are from. They swoop down and eat men whole, but they prefer Dwarves."

He gave Orei a sideways glance. "I think it would be best if we stick to the shadows and press on in stealth. If I were to release any magic in this ravine, it may end us all."

The three of them shuffled against the cliff side to their left, and tried to hide beneath the overhangs and crags that littered the trail. They finally made it out from the ravine and saw a clear pass through the last of the mountains. A Dwarven style archway sat over the track to pay homage to the Vakringuardian Kingdoms. As they passed under the arch, they opened out onto yet another desolate landscape. This, however, was a forest, and not a town. To the north, they could see a lone mountain with a castle perched on its top, and Huldain pointed to it.

"That is where we will find Olaf. He rarely leaves that place, and if he is not within his halls, he shall be close to them."

Yet, Alun was not listening to Huldain. His mind was still stuck on the sight before him. The whole forest appeared to be rotting; decaying marshlands reached out from beneath the forest’s branches, and the trees themselves seemed bulbous and pus filled. The mountain's foothills rippled out into the deadly scene.

Huldain looked around at the forest with a deep seated anguish, and Orei said with a sweeping arm, "Behold, Alun, the eastern wastes of the Eldar Wars."

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