The wind howled through the night, spreading a sinister odor in its wake. A large lich raised its head and sniffed the air.
Its rotting, decomposing flesh hung in tatters from its half-visible skeleton, while its empty eye sockets glowed an eerie, spectral green. Mystical runes are etched into his bald skull, evidence of his cursed rituals.
The lich's torn robe hangs in tatters, revealing gaunt bones and hooked claws extending from his skeletal hands. Around him, an aura of icy cold emanates, frosting the air and giving life to swirls of funereal mist. His empty eyes shine with malevolent intelligence.
She could smell it, that unique odor, so characteristic of the stone stolen from her king. The information was good. They were getting close. Unless it was a trap...
The lich hesitated, then ordered in an icy voice:
- Spread out, hide behind trees and bushes. Stop anyone approaching or perish!
Around him, fifty ghouls spread out all around the path.
Their skin is cadaverously pale, their veins and bulging muscles defined as if carved from marble. Their eyes shine with a malevolent gleam beneath their wiry, gray hair, and they seem to devour any glimmer of hope for miles around. Their mouths are lined with sharp teeth, ready to tear apart anything that crosses their path.
Attached to each of their waists is a ragged leather belt supporting a collection of frightening weapons: a chipped dagger, a rusty axe and a series of poisoned stingers. An evil glint dances in their eyes as they caress these instruments of death.
Their hooked hands firmly hold a chipped blade, their weapon of choice.
They moved stealthily into the darkness when they heard the lich's command, their bare feet making no sound on the ground.
Lurking behind a large tree, the Lich swept the surrounding area with an attentive gaze. He scanned the path. A human would have made out nothing in this darkness; but for a Liche, the pale moonlight was as bright as sunbeams passing through twigs. No detail escaped her. In her eyes, everything was crystal clear.
She remained calm, an unusual attitude for her. She drew her long bone sword. The weapon was both thin enough to slip between two ribs, and strong enough to pierce the toughest armor.
The ghouls' eyesight was not as good as that of the Lich. They groped their way through the bushes, using their swords as blind men would use their walking sticks.
The shrill hoot of an owl broke the silence. The tension rose a notch as the bird flew away; then the cold night made the monsters shiver. One of them put her foot on a twig. Furious, the Lich hissed and the ghouls froze. The Lich suppressed his disgust at the smell of rotting meat and turned away. They were instruments. Nothing more.
Minutes passed, becoming hours: the smell of whoever they were there for must have preceded them by a long way.
The Lich tried to control her impatience. He didn't let the ghouls rest or warm up, nor did he allow himself that luxury despite the near-polar chill that made his bones tremble.
He remained behind his tree, never taking his eyes off the trail. Another gust of wind shook the forest. The scent was stronger this time, as if intoxicating for the Lich. Excited, he growled at the ghouls:
- Get ready, here they come," she whispered.
His body, made of bone, vibrated with excitement, the tip of his sword describing a small circle that betrayed his nervousness. It had taken so much preparation and scheming to get to this point, now was not the time to crack.
The ghouls' eyes twinkled slightly beneath their bald eyebrows. They gripped their weapons tighter after hearing the Lich's warning. Not far away, the Lich heard a tinkling sound; something hard and in rapid succession had struck the earthen path. Indistinct shapes appeared on the horizon and stepped onto the path.
Three horses and their rider galloped towards the ambush. Their heads held high and proud, their hair glinting silver in the moonlight.
The first elf, dressed in a deep green silk tunic, wore a long cape that danced in the wind. His silver hair sparkles in the moonlight, framing a face of almost supernatural beauty. Her almond-shaped, sparkling emerald-green eyes reflect the wisdom of centuries.
The second elf, dressed in light but elaborate armor, carries an intricately shaped elven bow slung over his shoulder. His silver hair cascades over his shoulders, framing a face of delicate features, but his eyes are piercing with determination. He holds his bow with a deftness that demonstrates decades of practice, ready to release an arrow at the slightest threat.
The third elf, the only woman in the group, is dressed in a diaphanous, silvery gown that shines like the stars. Her pale silver hair cascades silkily down her back, and her face is enchantingly graceful. A slender, elegant sword rests on her waist. Her gaze is imbued with a cold mask, concealing the slightest emotion. She held a small bag against her, which she looked at frequently, as if to make sure it was still there.
The three elves on horseback moved with unrivalled grace, their mounts gliding silently through the forest like shadows.
The travelers passed unsuspectingly by the place where the Lich and the first ghouls were hiding.
The Lich was already savoring his victory when the wind suddenly shifted, bringing to the elves the heavy scent of rotting meat given off by the ghouls.
Worried, the horses immediately snorted. They raised their heads. Their riders stiffened, looking to all sides. Suddenly, they turned their mounts and fled at triple gallop.
The ghouls immediately emerged from their hiding place, spreading out before hurling their knives at the two male elves with superhuman strength.
The Lich also emerged from her hiding place, raised a skeletal hand and her guttural voice rang out:
- Gilrainyaor!
A bolt of red lightning shot from her fingers, aimed at the elven woman. A blood-red halo lit up the forest, reaching the elf's horse. The animal was like a puppet whose strings had been cut and collapsed, chest forward. His rider jumped to the ground with unprecedented speed. She caught herself lightly before glancing back, searching for her companions.
The ghouls' deadly daggers had caught up with the two elves, who fell from their horses. The ghouls immediately rushed towards their victims to devour them, but the Lich's voice rang out again cutting off their momentum:
- Take care of her! I'm not interested in those!
The monsters grunted in displeasure before rushing off down the path. The woman let out a groan of pure sadness at the sight of her companions' deaths and took a step back. She cursed her enemies, fleeing into the forest.
As the ghouls pounded the woods, the Lich rose into the air above the treetops. He could see the forest in its entirety.
Again, the Lich stretched out his skeletal arm in front of him and whispered:
- Lantarnor!
An entire section of the forest instantly burst into flames. Determined, the Lich continued to burn one section after another. The flames formed a circle half a league in diameter around him. It looked like a huge, molten crown resting on the forest. The Lich was satisfied, but kept an eye on the fire to make sure it didn't weaken.
And, on the contrary, the tongue of fire widened. It even reached the area the ghouls were scouring. She heard screaming and cursing. Through the trees, she saw seven of her killers fall mortally wounded. The Lich glanced at the elf who was still trying to escape her pursuers.
She was running at breakneck speed, closing in on her position without even knowing it. The Lich dropped from her position and landed five meters in front of her. She immediately turned around and resumed her run at full speed. Black ghoul blood trickled down her sword, staining the satchel she was holding.
But at the same time, the ghouls emerged from the forest to surround her. They blocked every possible exit. She stopped, trapped. She raised her head proudly with sovereign contempt for the ghouls.
The Lich approached her with a serene gait and stretched out his arm made of bone. For a brief moment, he enjoyed the helplessness of his prey, then ordered:
- Get her!
The ghouls took a step towards the woman, who hurriedly opened her satchel, plunged her hand into it, and pulled out a round stone that rippled a pretty blue and violet color, tinged with the red of the surrounding fire.
She raised the stone above her head, her lips twitching frantically.
Giving in to panic, the Liche barked:
- ANDURILORN!
A fireball shot towards the elf at high speed, but a little too late. A flash of emerald-green light illuminated the forest and the stone disappeared from the Lich's vision before his fireball struck the woman, who collapsed.
An inhuman rage swept through the Lich and she threw her sword against a tree, so hard that the blade sank completely into the trunk.
She looked around, needing to unleash her fury, and the only beings she had the right to express it against were the ghouls awaiting her new orders.
- Andurilorn!
This time, not one but twenty-five fireballs burst from her palm. They shot towards the helpless ghouls at full speed, disintegrating them without a trace.
Clenching his fist, he scanned the sky. The stars returned his gaze, indifferent, guardians of another world.
The Lich turned and carried the elf's lifeless body. He made sure the stone had disappeared before setting off again.
He extinguished the flames along the way, leaving the rest of the woods to burn.