It was war against the tower. The tower was surrounded by a ten-foot wall, it was fifteen storey building in its height with no perimeter just like a lighthouse.
The tower gates was locked. It was a blissful morning, Redcalf was busy on his usual duty, he had dustied the old books in the library and was heading up in the dorm chambers on the top of the towers, he was the only one living in the tower and has always been the safe-keeper of the magic bow. The wizards in Eystebith have always wanted to keep the Magic bow safe in Rogmar out from the reach of the elves.
Having attended to his duly duties, He paced up the stairs that leads to the saferoom and held the door handle, first looked out from the only balcony to the aerial view out on the west, a dark cloud is forming from what seems like Oryx.
'Well, it might be another storm' thought Redcalf. Nowadays rainstorms are unpredictable, they seem to fall at any given time or any given instance, sometimes with Hail so large that it could demolish the roofings of a building or hatch. Inside the saferoom, it was pitch dark, Redcalf proceeded to light the large candles situated in the stands fixated on the walls. He then proceeded to open the one window that ushered a view to the south-Tiryudega. The sunrays gave a glittering wink on the instrument displayed on the centre of the saferoom...a bow. It was not amy kind of bow, it was a large elvish bow. Legend says it belongs to the first Elvish princess Luna. Redcalf holding the piece of strands in his hands, went in to dust the bow. From the limb and nock to the strings and axle. He paid attention to the pattern drawn in the connection between the limb and grip. He felt the impact of a divination used in the craft of the bow. The arrows were in a quiver across the floor, just when he was about getting it, did he hear the sound of the shophar outside. He has a visitor.
'Who could it be' he muttered to himself. He wasnt expecting any mage from Eystebith neither does the messenger from Sawfire visit any more, it has been long since Sawfire and his emissaries passed over not since their are news of war brewing and a revolution on the way. Fortnite before, a message came to him from Eystebith that he should be ready to secure the bow on what's coming, and that soon enough the wizards in Eystebith will inform him on his evacuation from the tower. Another honk from the Orcish horn, startled him to reality and disrupted his attention from the quiver.
'Bloody orcs'
He went out to the balcony, and stared down..It was obvious someone was in the front gate. And from the look of it, it wasnt one person it was a Horde of orcs.
**
What might they really want, Redcalf thought. According to the instructions given to him from the grandwizard HECTARIO, he wasnt to lease the one precious thing the tower is known for to anyone, be it a wizard,elf, Sawfire or even HECTARIO himself without the permission the permission of the council of wizards in Eystebith.
Frèa saw that he has to be more convincing in getting this bow or might never get it again. He approached the gates of the tower and with a loud voice.
'HAIL. I AM FRÈA THE REVOLUTIONIST. I HAVE COME IN PEACE, DO NOT MIND THE WARLOCKS BEHIND ME. I ONLY SEEK YOUR AUDIENCE DEAR FRIEND'
Redcalf being skeptical of not opening the gates, climbed the walls from the bundles of bags of sand piled up behind the walls to the top of the fence.
'THEN VERY MUCH HERE I AM.'
Frèa quickly looked towards the direction the voice came from. On the left of the wall, high above the fence, was a sleek tall fellow, who neither orc or elf standing on the walls.
'Ah.THERE YOU ARE MY FRIEND.' Frèa caressed the goblet on his wrist.
'WHAT HAVE YOU COME FOR, FREA' Redcalf asked. Certainty in his pitch.
'Don't be hush about it friend. I am making a friendly request' Frèa using his left hand in expressing the horde behind him.' FROM MY WARLOCKS AND ME TO YOU AND THE WIZARDS IN EYSTEBITH' with a wicked gleam in his eyes' I SAY YOU LET US HAVE THE BOW AND WE WILL LEAVE THE TOWER UNTOUCHED AND YOU SAFE FROM ANY HARM BUT IF YOU DECLINE OUR OFFER. WE SHALL BURN YOU AND THE TOWER DOWN". With the last words, the horde chantered.
"Sorry i cant let you" Redcalf's voice was distant and was drawn from the cruel noise of the orcs.
'I didnt hear that'Frèa said. With his hand up for the horde to remain silent.
"I can't let you have the bow Frèa. It is not meant for you or any orc in Rogmar to wield"
Thats it, it was a stroke in the camel's back. Frèa felt insulted.
"Master chief'Pigsmoth snorted in rage, amidst spatle dripping fangs. 'Let me smite this fellow with my axe'
'No. Let me handle let it' Frèa said.
'IT would be terrible for you, my friend to choose wrongly. Keeping to what the wizards in Eystebith has commanded you to do and what might eventually happen to you' Frèa said. Then with a loud voice
'WARLOCKS PULL THIS GATES DOWN!"
The orcs with a big roar, advanced towards the big gates. Pigsmoth threw a spear at Redcalf who dissipated from the wall. With large tree stumps and logs, they rammed the gates of the tower. Inside, Redcalf was writing a letter to Eystebith of what has befallen Rogmar, he sealed the letter with the seal of magic, recited some spell incantation and brought out the raven 'Alm' from its cage to send the message to Eystebith, fondling the paper to a tiny piece, he hid the piece of the bird's plumule, then sent it flying away in the darken clouds. "I hope that this gets to you before I perish grandmaster" Redcalf muttered to himself.