Quest of the Fire Child

ONE

Darkness had settled quickly over the remote village of Ausuwa. Nestled between the foothills of the majestic Gangis mountain range and the expansive teal blue lake known to the locals as Percoid, the small adobe huts topped with their straw colored thatched roofs were nearly outnumbered by the fleet of sleek boats and outriggers tied up to the docks, fishing being the lifeblood of the people. On both sides of the picturesque village, the dense forest held sway and it served to isolate the area from all but the occasional visitor. The seclusion was something that the villagers desired for solitude was not only comforting but also protective.

Without benefit of moon or stars the darkness should have been total, but the high ceiling of the Inner World emitted a slight glow mimicking the sky of the outer world. Deep within the forest where the trees were the thickest, however, the blackness hung heavy and it would have been nearly impossible for anyone to navigate their way through without the use of a lighted torch. Such conditions failed to bother the small group of hulking creatures that made their way toward the village for they were a tribe of cave dwellers and their large eyes made it possible for them to see where no normal man could. Despite their ponderous size, nearly 8 feet tall and weighing in excess of 500 pounds each, the Mordraves moved with surprising agility and silence.

Once they left the confines of the woods, they scattered so as to be able to enter the village from all sides. Their weapons were still sheathed, but each carried a large wooden club for their intent was not to kill but simply to capture. It was something that they had considerable experience in doing since they often raided other villages to secure slaves to work in the mines digging out lava rock that was used for heat in the remote northern regions. The slaves were also useful in the backbreaking task of hewing out additional living quarters within their mountains. Both were tasks that were quite dangerous and very often fatal, for rockslides and cave-ins were common so that new bodies were always in demand.

Now, however, it was not slaves that the Mordraves were seeking. They had been hired to secure the capture of one individual from Ausuwa, a woman known to them only by the name of Marian. Why she was important they did not know and neither did they care, for the payment they were promised upon delivery would buy them many of the luxuries that they now lacked but so greedily desired. If they had to break some skulls in order to obtain the female, the leader of the barbaric creatures smiled, they would gladly do so. Violence for them was often an act of sublime pleasure and they seldom went out of their way to avoid using it.

Despite their savagery, they were well disciplined and they waited until all were in place before swooping down upon the unsuspecting village. The two weary sentries who casually patrolled the area were taken totally aback when they saw the attackers storm forward, for the inhabitants of Ausuwa were poor and owned little that would normally precipitate a raid from any intruder. The men sensed, however, that it was not riches that these beasts were after and the one ran to sound the alarm. Even as the bell clanged, the creatures made their way unimpeded into the center of the village.

As the sleepy citizens rushed from their huts with their weapons drawn and at the ready, one look at the marauders waiting for them made it obvious that any attempt to fight would prove useless. They quickly dropped their swords in surrender, but that did not stop several of the creatures from randomly swinging their clubs knocking half a dozen men senseless. It was violent and unnecessary, but it pleased them.

From one of the central huts an elderly figure slowly emerged and he held his arms up high and shouted loudly so as to gain the intruders attention.

“Please, cease your attack. Please! We offer no resistance. What is it that you want? We are poor; we have nothing for you to take. If it is food that you need, you are welcome to the little we have.”

The leader of the raiders, Grostek, was impressive in his ugliness, with a thick red beard and an old scar that seemed to split his face in half. He stomped forward and peered down at the old man who was over two feet shorter than he. He lifted his club slightly and poked the man’s chest with it and he sneered and spoke with a deep voice that brought fear to all who heard it.

“I seek a woman of your village; a woman known by the name of Marian. She is not one of your race but you have taken her in and have given her shelter. Bring her to me now and I may allow you to live.”

“You are mistaken,” the old man’s voice quivered. “There…there is no woman here by that name.”

The creature drove the end of the club hard into the man’s stomach and the old man doubled over and fell to his knees groaning loudly. Several of the villagers attempted to take a step forward to help him, but were held back by the thick paws of the on looking marauders. The creature placed a large foot upon the elder’s head and forced it to the ground. “Do not play games with me, old one,” his voice rumbled. “I will ask but once more. If the woman is not delivered to me immediately, I will crush your head like a rotted apple.”

“There is no need for you to harm anyone.” The voice that sounded was strong and beautiful even to the ears of these vile creatures. They turned their heads in unison and watched as the young woman stepped out from one of the far huts. She was slim and statuesque and carried herself with dignity. Her face was enchanting to all who looked upon it and her blond hair was long and silken. She walked forward passing between the beasts unhurriedly and seemingly without any fear. She came to a halt within twelve feet of Grostek and looked directly into his eyes.

“I am Marian. I am the one whom you seek. Call off your men for there is no further need for you to threaten these poor people. I will go with you willingly.” The grotesque leader smiled bitterly and again lowered his foot pressing dow