Gnome Warriors: A Fictional Narrative

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To the west of the Dark Tower, on a small hillock that formed one of the arms of the Warlocks Chair, Bredock Holt and his small party of Gnome warriors rested briefly in a tangled copse of oak trees. All around them in the rain-soaked night, Goblyns waited for the order to attack once more. To reach there, they had used the amulet to travel the mystical pathways that lay hidden from all but the bearer of the crystal. On route, they had sought out the Elves and quickly informed them of the plans to defeat Ravengaard and asked them to stand ready at the allotted time. That time was near. Fighting off the tiredness that threatened to overwhelm him, he pulled the amulet from its bag and laid it on the ground in from of him. He readied himself. Ceridwen had warned about using the gemstones, of how every time you used it, it stole a little of your soul. It must have most of mine by now, he thought, cackling to himself. He called upon Vamar, the Gnome God of Battle to protect them one last time. Just long enough for him to carry out his part of the ritual. Around him in the darkness, the remaining Gnome warriors crouched in readiness. His last line of defence against the pending Goblyn attack. …show more content…

In the storm wrapped darkness, Danielle saw the black cloud spewing from its summit, shudder and cease its flow. From inside the stone edifice, a deep rumbling started. Was it George and the Elves doing? Danielle gripped the Starheart tightly. It seemed to squirm between her fingers as if trying to escape. There was a tingling feeling in her head, a whispering as if it was trying to speak to her. Recalling Ceridwen’s warning she willed it to be quiet, clearing her mind. Her brother and the others had not returned from the Dark Tower and the time to awaken the power of the Arcs of Heaven had arrived. She crouched in the darkness, watching for any sign of them, uncertain of what she was going to