The Quest of Narrigh (The Other Worlds Book 1) Read online

  THE QUEST OF NARRIGH

  Novel Copyright © 2014 S.K. Holder

  Cover Art by DaCostaArtDesign.com

  ISBN: 978-0993293733

  Published by S.K. Holder

  Kindle Edition

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work, which has been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  www.skholder.com

  Table of Contents

  MAP OF NARRIGH

  RACES

  FACTIONS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  MAP OF NARRIGH

  RACES

  Citizens

  Darque Goblins

  Drone Elves

  Dwarves

  Humans

  Theria Elves

  Traceless

  FACTIONS

  THE FURNACE consists of a Blade Army made up of Darque Goblins, Gamnod Humans, and Drone Elves.

  THE STORM consists of a Score Army made up of Theria Elves, Olvastan Humans, and Dwarves of the West.

  ONE

  Someone was talking to him, prising him out of the shell he called sleep. The voice was gruesomely loud. Pivotal.

  ‘Northern beasts, get up!’

  Connor woke to find himself in the hollow stump of a tree. He was dressed in strange clothes: a leather tunic over a linen shirt, wool trousers, and soggy brown boots. There was a leather bag strapped across his shoulder and a thin metal chain around his neck. The beating of a thousand wings pounded in his ears.

  ‘Riley?’

  The stump moved. Someone or something was shaking it.

  He tried to reassure himself. ‘I’m still dreaming. I haven’t really woken up.’ That happened in dreams sometimes. You wake from one dream only to find yourself in another.

  He attempted to steady the stump with his hands. The stump was slippery with moss and yellow fungus. He jerked his head from side to side, willing himself to wake. He gave his hand a hard, quick pinch. That didn’t work either.

  A grimy tusk flashed in front of his eyes. His dreams had never felt this real, or his nightmares. There was something out there.

  Blood rushed through his veins, thawing out his stiff limbs, sharpening his senses. Northern beasts? The last he remembered, he had been playing The Quest of Narrigh on his brother’s computer with his friend, Riley.

  He must have dropped off to sleep.

  He gave a loud gasp as a white-hot pain exploded in his ankle. A beast with a beak honed like a steel sword had taken hold of his right foot, clamping down on his flesh, crushing it. The size of the beast’s head was three times the size of his own. On either side of its beak were two great tusks.

  Connor breathed through clenched teeth, fighting to push back the pain. He had to dislodge himself from the tree trunk fast.

  The beast casually lowered its head and peered in. Its yellow eyes fastened on its victim. Very slowly, it began to reel in its prey.

  Connor fought to gather his wits. He braced himself against the trunk and desperately tried to draw himself up to the other end of the stump. The creature responded by forcibly pinching his ankle, determined to drag its squirming-meal out from its ‘wooden container’.

  His foot twisted and then cracked. He arched his back. His strangled cry echoed through the tree hollow. ‘Come on,’ he spat. ‘Come on!’ His eyes watered. Bracing himself again, he lashed out with his free leg. The beast moved to skewer it with its tusk.

  Connor swung his leg away, snagging his trousers. He clawed at the bark, fighting the pain, vehemently trying to blot it out. He gave a deep-throated growl and, with one vicious kick, struck the beast’s beak with his foot.

  It opened its jaws, releasing his leg, which smacked the ground with a grisly thud.

  Connor exerted all his energy into scrambling from the trunk. He wrenched himself up, only to find two of the great seething beasts closing in on either side of him. Maggots dripped from the folds of their wings.

  He staggered away, grimacing in pain. He was afraid his injured ankle would give out on him, afraid he wouldn’t make it. Instead, he found his strides lengthening.

  Very soon, he was running through a forest locked in shadow, his sodden boots squelching in the soil, the wind whistling past his ears.

  Squawking noisily, the beasts rose into the air.

  Connor spotted a boy just ahead of him, running low to the ground with his bloodied hands wrapped around his head. One of the beasts was on his tail, lunging at him with its talons.

  Connor cast about the forest floor, looking for something to ward it off. He grabbed a sturdy, forked tree branch and charged at the wings of the swooping beast. If he could divert its attention, the boy could get away.

  Wallop!

  He found himself face down in the soil, floored by a blow from the beast’s wing. He scrambled for his piece of tree branch to find it had fallen well out of reach.

  Three of the rancid smelling beasts ensnared him. They cocked their heads and sunk their shiny pink claws into the forest floor.

  A chill went through Connor’s spine. They’re going to eat me. One night, he had hidden behind the sofa when his brother and his friends were watching a horror film about a man-eating bird. He had nightmares about it for months afterward.

  One of the beasts struck him on the side of the head with its beak. His punishment, he supposed, for trying to outrun them. He clenched his jaw. The pain penetrated his skull. Black and silver sparks flashed before his eyes.

  The beasts set to work, scraping away soil from around him with their wiry claws, showering him with maggots. Connor felt himself sinking on a wet platform. Soil rained down on him in thick wet clumps, blocking his airways.

  He would need to act quickly before they buried him alive.

  Wheezing and coughing, he heaved himself onto his side and pulled the straps of his bag from around his shoulders.

  Then without looking, w
ithout thinking, he tore the bag open and drew from it the first thing he could lay his hands on - an apple, soft and bruised. He flung the piece of fruit at the beasts. It missed them. He watched in horror as the lime green apple disappeared into the ground.

  The beasts commenced using their beaks to break up the soil even faster.

  Tears stung Connor’s eyes. ‘I can feel the cold shadow of death upon my face.’ That was what the man had said in the film when the giant bird had started gnawing on his neck.

  If this was a dream, wasn’t it about time he woke up?

  ‘You ran away again. Don’t you remember?’ said an Authoritative Voice inside his head. ‘You wanted to come here.’

  He fought to regain his reasoning. What if I am in Narrigh?

  A Warrior had been his chosen Profession. He didn’t have his armour, his Lightning Sword or the enchanted shield he won in Level Fifteen. He raised his hands and thrust out his fingers. No light shot from them. No orbs of flame.

  The thing around his neck! With determined fury, he grappled with his shirt collar. His fingers slid along the thin metal chain. Suspended from it was an egg-shaped pendant. There were bands set in the Egg’s middle encrusted with gemstones. Instinctively, he took the band between his finger and thumb and rotated it in a frenzy. ‘Help me, please!’

  Just when he started to believe his instincts had failed him, a spectacular bolt of blue light shot from the pendant, pierced the air, and then vanished.

  Screeching in fright, the beasts took to the sky, soaring above the treetops and out of sight.

  Coughing up the last of the soil from his throat, Connor reached for his bag and hauled himself from the pit. He hobbled away without looking back.

  The reality of the world around him grew starker and more perilous in his mind.

  TWO

  It had happened on a Saturday.

  Connor hadn’t had much sleep the night before. He was all jittery with excitement. He had risen early to hang out the washing his mum had left in a basket on the kitchen table. He even completed his brother’s chores: sweeping the kitchen floor and putting out the rubbish. After he was done, he sat in the living room idly flicking through one of his old comic books. His best friend Riley was coming over.

  Connor’s mum was at work, which meant he could do whatever he wanted in the house as long as he didn’t invade his brother’s personal space. Connor planned to do that later when his brother had left for the cinema with his friends and before his mum returned. ‘The Quest’ would be his and Riley’s to play.

  The Quest of Narrigh was the biggest massively multi-player online role-playing game ever to be released by Tridan Entertainment. Its creators had deposited so many obstacles, that any player would be lucky to reach Level Twenty.

  His fifteen-year-old brother, Luke, sauntered into the room. He was on the phone with his best friend, Walter ‘Bat’ Bateman. ‘Yeah Bat. Level Forty....told you I’d do it.’

  Connor flung down his comic book, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping open. He had a name for the way he constantly regarded his brother; he called it the Look of Awe. Luke seemed to appreciate Connor staring at him as if he were some sort of comic book hero. ‘Wow! You got to Level Forty.’

  Luke nodded, a smug grin on his face. ‘Yeah, yeah I know,’ he spoke into the phone. ‘But it was me who put in the extra work. My fingers need a break though…laptop’s playing up. I think it’s overheated. What time will you get here?’

  His brother had reached Level Forty in thirty-eight hours. Not bad.

  Luke had allowed him enough game play to get some idea of the skill involved. Connor reckoned he could reach Level Forty in a lot less time than that if he had more free time on his hands, if he could stay up late, if he had a computer in his bedroom. He had to share a desktop computer with his mum. It didn’t help that his mum made full use of the parental controls, which prevented him from freely surfing the internet.

  Luke ended the call and shoved the phone into his back pocket. ‘You like that, huh? One day I’ll show you how it’s done. What time is Riley coming over?’

  ‘Twelve.’ Connor hoped Riley would be on time or early. He wanted to show him his new set of walkie talkie watches.

  Luke gave him a weary grin and then leaned over and ruffled his hair. Connor tried to smooth it back down. His brother was such a sap. ‘You stay here or in your room. Understand?’

  ‘I know. Why do you always have to tell me?’

  Luke shrugged. ‘Because.’

  Because five years ago, Connor had packed a bag and gone in search of the dad he had never met, and whose name he couldn’t remember. He knew he was never going to find him, but he didn’t care. His mum had told him off for using her bottle of shampoo in his water-gun, and his brother had been ignoring him all day. He had left the house in a huff, having packed a change of clothes and some of his favourite toys and books. He was going to take the bus into town, but he didn’t have any money. It was late and he had soon grown tired. His bag was heavy because of all the books he was carrying and people were staring at him. When a woman in a trenchcoat asked him if he was okay, he ran into the park to get away from her. And that’s where his brother found him, curled up on the grass, cradling his toy truck.

  Luke had given him a clout round the ear for causing him and his mum to worry. Connor promised them that he would never run away again. He intended to honour that promise. Deep down, he didn’t mind his mum and brother treating him like a baby. He wasn’t ready to grow up.

  He gave Luke the Look of Awe. ‘Can Riley and I watch you game today?’

  ‘Don’t see why not.’

  Connor grinned and reached for his comic book. Yes, the Look of Awe definitely came in handy.

  As soon as Luke and his friends had tumbled out of the door, Connor didn’t hesitate. He switched off the TV and skulked upstairs to his brother’s bedroom with Riley following close behind.

  Connor sunk into the swivel chair and wheeled himself up to the desk. He turned on the laptop.

  Riley pulled up a chair next to him. ‘Won’t your mum say something if she catches us in here?’

  Connor pulled a tattered sheet of paper from his pocket. ‘Yep.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Riley rested his chin on the tip of Connor’s shoulder. His chestnut locks tickled the side of Connor’s face.

  ‘Luke’s password combos. He only uses five, so it should be easy.’ Connor had watched his brother while away the hours at his computer enough times to memorise all five passwords, one of which was Connor’s own name.

  Riley took the sheet of paper from him. He turned it over. ‘And what’s this on the back?’

  ‘Notes to get us started.’ They weren’t much. He had picked up a few smart moves from watching his brother play.

  ‘They don’t make any sense.’

  Connor whipped the paper from his hand. ‘They make sense to me.’

  Riley placed two cans of soft drink on the desk. ‘What’s wrong with the screen?’

  The screen was flashing a luminous purple. Connor dusted it off with the palm of his hand, and then tapped the ESCAPE key. The screen returned to normal. ‘Seen too much action I guess. And it’s about to see some more.’

  Connor logged into the game and pressed PLAY.

  The Lands of Narrigh

  “Eight hundred years ago, in the Age of Peace, Narrigh, once collectively known as the Goldlands had eight regions: Narrul, Hizsen, Garnorm, Theris, Baruch, Crinol, Shile, and Olvastan.

  To the North, lay Garnorm and Hizsen. Garnorm was inhabited by a race of humans known as the Gamnod, who were gifted in the crafts of counselling, sculpting, and tailoring.

  The Darque Goblins dwelled in Hizsen and were renowned for their camouflage and enchanting skills.

  The Isles of Crinol were surrounded by the blue waters of the Hizsen Sea. Here the Drone Elves dwelled. They were exceptional potion-makers and flame-wielders.

  In the Etbur mountains of Crinol, dwelled the Traceless wh
o had no name and no soul to speak of.

  To the west, lay Narrul, home to the dwarves, who were famed for their mining and iron-forging skills.

  To the South lay Olvastan, where there dwelled humans, who believed in one God as opposed to the Gamnod who believed in many. The people of Olvastan were great farmers and tradesmen.

  Further South, in the Shile region, there lived the gypsy clans, known for their herbal remedies and hunting skills.

  To the East, lay the Kingdom of Baruch, bathed in gold and home to King Kalgar and Queen Irentha. The King and Queen ruled Narrigh with an iron hand to maintain its prosperity and tranquillity. Their Score Army was both revered and feared.

  Not far from the Kingdom of Baruch was Theris, home to the Theria Elves, who worked tirelessly to weave beautiful cloth and textiles for all of Narrigh. They were also renowned for their enchantments.

  One day, evil descended on the lands of Narrigh. It came in the form of a heat wave. It started with a flush of red in the sky, which rapidly simmered to a burnt orange and then a sun-soaked yellow. It descended on the land like some great floodlight, burning fire-bright and smothering the lands with a haze of shimmering heat. A heat that was unbearable. It sent races and beasts alike scuttling to their homes, seeking shade where they could find it.

  Two months later, a strong breeze swept across Narrigh. It cooled the land with its charm-less icy breath. Rain followed, marking an end to the drought, bringing the inhabitants of Narrigh back out into the open.

  A great rainbow formed in the sky. The people of Olvastan marvelled at its beauty, saying that it was a gift from God to announce the beginnings of a bountiful harvest to come. The Theria Elves believed it was a gift from the Elfin Spirit, King Garlor, for their crafts. The Gamnod race thought the rainbow had been created by the Old One, whom they called Uom, to show them the way to a new world. The dwarves believed the rainbow was wondrous and that if they bathed in its arc they would find mountains of gold and other riches. The Darque Goblins, however, feared the rainbow was an omen, marking the end of peace in their time.