The Adventures of Werdna

A series I started writing on Quizilla, and when they deleted my account, even though they brought it back I decided to bring it somewhere safer, where more people will read it. I have a prologue, and two chapters so far. I'm going to post it in bite-sized pieces. Please tell me whether or not you enjoyed reading it. Thanks for taking the time to read my story!

Part 1

Werdna strode through the forest, with his companion, Wehtam. They had left the city at dawn, to a purple sky above them. They had been heading southeast, into the darker parts of the surrounding forests. They left their mounts at the stable; the trees were too thick for a comfortable and safe ride. Werdna was garbed in a suit of armor that he had made himself, glimmering steel breastplate, gauntlets, greaves, boots and a helmet to match. He wielded a round steel shield, his family crest engraved in the metal. Belted to his waist was a hand and a half sword, long enough to be used with two hands, but also short enough to be used with a shield. It was crafted from fine silver, a gift from his grandfather when he came of age. The sword had a history to it; it was wielded by his ancestors in the first wars, between man and the daemons, which was hardly won by man, when they were able to close the gates to the other realms. Wehtam was likewise garbed, in a suit of armor, with a shield and sword. He was a spell-sword, gifted in both blade and magic. He specialized in destruction and restoration, and dabbled in conjuration and other forms of magic.

It was dusk when they reached the lair of the Wendigo. Outside of the cave entrance there were bones and skeletons piled six feet high, the skulls still had the eyes inside, glassed over, fixed in an eternal gaze of ultimate terror and suffering. “There is a great evil presence, we must be close.” Werdna commented, “Let’s set up camp a ways away, and start fresh tomorrow.” So they set up camp, and while Wehtam slept, Werdna tossed and turned, unable to find refuge in his mind, wherever he would focus his attention, the Wendigo would be there, to find a new way to kill him while he was helpless to do anything about it. No rest for the wicked his mother would always say, but she never mentioned the pure of heart. He slept little, but his dreams were haunted by stories of the Wendigo, the monster that he had boasted in town to slay, until he learned of the curse. He was still bound by his word, but now he did not want any of the rewards offered to him. An elder had told him of critical flesh, that however many the Wendigo consumed, it would have to be killed that many times to be effectively defeated. And past that, Werdna would have to drink the blood of the monster to dispose of it. No rest for the pure is more like it, Werdna remarked as he was roused from his sleep by another nightmare. In the darkness surrounding them, a wolf gave his low, solemn call, which was answered by none. For the first time in his life, he felt and understood fear. The wolf continued to howl until the morning came, expressing the most painful experience, to be completely alone.

Soon after what we would call 3AM, the two arose, and set out for the cave. They arrived shortly before dawn, to gaze at the skulls again. They knelt in prayer for the people whose remains they were looking at, that their souls would be able to rest peacefully after the demon was slain. They also prayed for strength for themselves, with which to slay the Wendigo. Then they put on their armor, Wehtam lit a torch, and they headed into the cave. Once inside, Werdna took the torch and led the way. They walked in complete silence, listening for any sound that might betray the location of presence of the Wendigo, while being careful not to make a sound, for fear of betraying their own location or presence. There was no accompaniment for sound. No dripping water, no wildlife, nothing. The walls felt like they were closing in on them. After quite some time, they came upon an old metal door, obviously built to keep something in, and everything else out. This is the place Werdna reached out with his mind to speak with Wehtam mentally.

He felt the connection strengthen, and his mind fill with a warm feeling, the feeling of not being alone, the feeling of company. He could feel his brother’s anxiety, he could see his personality and his true intentions, but that was not why he was here. He needed to speak with him silently. “How are you feeling there, Wehtam? Are you nervous?” “Yeah, a little bit I guess.” “Don’t be, we’re going to be fine, we’re just going to get in here, kill that monster, go back to town with its head, collect the reward and then the drinks are on me. But first, we need to get this door open.” Upon closer inspection of the door, they found a long inscription on it, in Latin. Werdna looked it over a while and mentioned that it was covered in prayers; asking the gods that nothing could open this door, save for those who walked the path of righteousness and who would slay the beast. They also noticed runes and symbols engraved in the metal, which turned out to be dials. They were turned correctly, the door was unlocked already. Werdna and Wehtam set themselves ready to open the door, and began to push.