Tales of Mantica Read online

  Tales of Mantica

  Edge of the Abyss

  Edited by

  Brandon Rospond

  Cover Art by Michele Giorgi c/o Mantic Games

  Tales of Mantica: Edge of the Abyss Edited by Brandon Rospond

  This edition published in 2018

  Published by Pike & Powder, LLC

  Zmok Books

  1525 Hulse Road, Unit 1

  Point Pleasant, NJ 08742

  ISBN 978-1-945430-83-1

  Bibliographical References and Index

  1. Fantasy. 2. Action. 3. Adventure

  Winged Hussar Publishing 2018 All rights reserved

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  INTRODUCTION

  The dawn brings a new day to the continent of Mantica. The sun brings warmth from the mountaintop of the Howling Peaks, across the Ardovikian Plain, whistling through the trees of the Forest of Galahir, and through the cities that make up the Successor Kingdoms. Over the years, life has grown in every corner of the world; countless races and cultures have sown their roots and spread out, creating vast territories. No one race reigns king over the land, as each is the ruler of their own domain. Each leader of every army fights to be his own king on the field of war.

  Mantica exists in a constant state of turbulence. There are those that seek more than just their own domain; they wish to destroy all that would oppose them and conquer the whole land for their own desires. As of recent times, the land itself cries out in pain. Mantica has been rent by dark forces, creating a chasm filled with hellfire and nightmarish creatures. The people of the realm call this place the Abyss. From this pit of darkness emerged winged stone gargoyles, baleful horned demons, and elementals of hellfire called efreets. They torture and taint the earth with every step they take, every breath they breathe.

  All hope for Mantica is not lost, though. Heroes that stand on the side for the forces of good take the guise of various statures. Whether they come in the form of forest dwelling elves with their understanding of the land, dwarfs who dwell deep underground and bring with them their knowledge of craft and technology, salamanders whose fiery tenacity knows no bounds, or men who are born and bred to fight wars, the darkness of the Abyss shall always have someone to contend against.

  This anthology is a collection of ten short stories that span the Edge of the Abyss campaign in the Kings of War universe, covering as many factions as Mantic has put rules out for. Each story has been tailored to fit into the overall lore of the universe, having worked closely with Mantic, as well as unified under my guidance to create one overarching universe for our fiction. Some of the stories we have adapted directly from the Edge of Abyss campaign book, while others may seem very close, but we’ve changed the armies to put our own spin on the battles. Even though the stories can be read in any order, we’ve purposely ordered them as so that the first is the earliest in our narrative, while the last brings the most recent developments. This is but the first of many works we plan to publish in the Kings of War universe!

  The Brotherhood is a mysterious order of men that can commune with the power of water through their most highly trained and elite warriors, the Order of Redemption. In Duncan Waugh’s story, “Unfamiliar Territory,” a unit of Brotherhood soldiers, led by a Redemption Knight named Aldous, scout the area by the Abyss, unaware of what horrors have begun to leak onto the world. They stumble upon a bizarre ritual site and are ambushed by Varangur soldiers. Their leader, a man named Gunnar, states that there is a greater evil coming for them; that the men of the Brotherhood must either run and flee the Varangur, or stay and face the darkness, reluctantly, together.

  Some cannot rest, even in death. The pharaohs of the Empire of Dust use the dark powers of necromancy to reanimate the dead to do their bidding, as is the case of C. L. Werner’s story, “The Sea Does Not Give Up Her Dead.” Djwet is a former plunderer who was killed by the hands of the Empire of Dust, only to be brought back to life to serve the bidding of High Priest Nekhbet. Having brought Djwet’s fleet up from the bottom of the sea, Nekhbet orders the skeleton to sail him toward his former home of the Fang Isles so they can build their army. Not willing to let such dark magic sail through their waters, the naiads of the Trident Realm of Neritica board the ships and attempt to stop the dead from reaching their targets.

  The Abyss has twisted many creatures, but perhaps none so much more than the dwarfs. Perhaps it is the fact that so many of them live underground, or perhaps it is that there are those that are so easily tempted by the dark whispers. Whatever the case may be, the Abyssal Dwarfs capture the ingenuity and craftsmanship of the dwarfs and combine it with the sickening, dark power of the Abyss. In C. W. Conduff’s story, “Kinship,” Lord Yurec has created a group of dwarfs known as the Traduciators to try to divine the truth behind the dwarfs that go missing to see if they’ve truly succumbed to the corruption of the Abyss. When the latest to go missing is his brother, Durok, the dwarfs travel deeper underground than they’ve ever been. Whatever the case may be, Yurec is ready to face his brother; to bring him back or to strike him down.

  Orcs pillage and destroy; it is as much in their nature as it is to breathe. Such behavior could be blamed on the Celestial known as Kyron, who was responsible for taking the members of the group, collectively known as The Herd, and corrupting them into the beasts we now know as orcs. In Andrew McKinney’s story, “The Beast Within,” the two cousin races collide on the field of battle once more. Many different groups have come to answer the call of the longhorn, Malgar, to stand and defend their land from the destruction of the orcs. Dragyr, his apprentice, has only known his master and is amazed at how many creatures come to protect their wilds when threatened. Can the unity of The Herd defeat the villainous orcs, or will they triumph in burning down the longhorns’ forest?

  To the salamander known as Lukhantl, his brother, Lorquan, is all that he has left. When the latter is taken by Twilight Kin slavers, after losing a bloody battle at Hokh-Man, Lukhantl and his captain take to the seas. While salamanders are often thought of fighting best on the land, Robert E. Waters fights the salamanders against the Twilight Kin in a fast-moving, action-packed naval battle in “Into the Straits of Madness.” Will Lukhantl succeed in finding his brother, or are the ships all going down in flames?

  It has now been several months since the Brotherhood and Varangur fought the Forces of the Abyss. News has spread across Mantica of the darkness that the demons bring with them. The Kingdoms of Men have begun work on a giant wall that they hope will act as a first line of defense for their lands. In Michael McCann’s story, “Emerald Eyes,” Commander Cassandra Agrias has been put in charge of overseeing the work, but they have been met with obstacle after obstacle, impeding their progress on the wall at its tail end of construction. After fend
ing off efreets that had bombarded the wall, the men find that the orcs have begun to move on them. Agrias has sent word back to the Kingdoms, requesting more aid, but the response she gets disappoints her. Instead of sending men, ogres have been hired to aid her army. Agrias is hesitant to put her faith in these mercenaries, and her brash lieutenant, Sir Ewan, does nothing but help to antagonize that nagging feeling. But as they bicker, a force begins to move in on the wall…

  Dunstan Rootwell is a halfling that resides in the League of Rhordia. Once a rat-catcher, Dunstan now trains his halfling troops in preparation for whatever uses the League has for them. When they are called upon, Dunstan is surprised to find their task is something he has quite a bit of experience in. Hunting rats. In Scott Washburn’s story, “Rat-catcher,” the halfling army travels to the city of Norwood to find that it has no ordinary rat problem; the ratkin have infested the tunnels under the city and have begun striking against civilians. The duke is concerned if this goes on much longer, their entire town will be overrun. Dunstan turns to the aid of his friend, Paddy Bobart, to see if they can find a way to deal with the infestation, and things take off with a bang.

  It takes a powerful source of magic to affect a dragon to the point of lethargy. In Bill Donohue’s story, “The Last Stand,” Commander Sindfar Greenspar is a leader in a group of Dragon Kin. Even though he does not ride one of the beasts like his exalted brethren, he is tasked with scouting the land ahead to find out why the dragons act as if their flames have been extinguished. Their target is a fortress that was once used by elves of yore as a defensive point, but when they arrive, they find that an old priest is living there, harboring children. The priest, Anselmo, speaks of a great evil that is plaguing the land, destroying the children’s villages as they go. Meanwhile, the undead are on the move. Led by a necromancer named Zar and a vampire lord name Yarik, their crusade against the living grows ever more powerful. Even though Zar seems a pitiful necromancer, he seems to have stumbled upon some power that even makes the vampire shudder with worry.

  Out of all of the Celestials that have split into two personas, one of the few that has remained intact is the Green Lady. Under her tutelage, the Forces of Nature protect the land from any that would threaten prosperity of natural life. In Marc DeSantis’s story, “Eyes Unblinking,” Dillen Genemer is a part of a Basilean army that is in search of the Lady’s aid; knowing that the powers of Basilea and the Green Lady combined would stop any foe, they search her to forge a truce. However, before they can reach her, they are set upon by Abyssals, who seek to destroy both forces before they can unite. Dillen is sent forward by his allies to try and find the Green Lady, and when all hope seems lost, he is led to her by the sylph named Shaarlyot. Can he still make it back to his allies in time to save them?

  Almost a year has passed since the Abyss split Mantica apart. Someone must unite the people to stand against the darkness. Prince Talannar Icekin has established the wintery capital of Chill, and with it, an army to unite the people of all nationalities, known as the Northern Alliance. Gavin Stalspar is one of the many warriors who fight under the prince’s banner, but his purpose for being there is unclear. While thankful for being given a place to fight and sleep, his thoughts and heart seem distracted. In “Crimson Winter,” by myself, Brandon Rospond, Gavin seeks a purpose, while others around him question what secrets Prince Talannar has laid hidden within Chill.

  With these ten stories, we hope to run the gamut of battles for all of the different factions. We hope the gamers appreciate the tales written and can either use these to come up with new ideas for their own armies, recreate the battles described, or even use these as inspiration to come up with tales and adventures of their own. Keep on reading, writing, exploring ideas, and sharing with other players of Kings of War to prepare for the next anthology!

  Table of Contents

  Duncan Waugh – Unfamiliar Territory

  C.L. Werner – The Sea Does Not Give Up Her Dead

  C.W. Conduff - Kinship

  Andrew McKinney – The Beast Within

  Robert E. Waters – Into the Straits of Madness

  Michael McCann – Emerald Eyes

  Scott Washburn – Ratcatcher

  Bill Donohue – The Last Stand

  Marc DeSantis – Eyes Unblinking

  Brandon Rospond – Crimson Winter

  Unfamiliar Territory

  By Duncan Waugh

  The perpetual twilight covered the men's progress as they quietly and carefully made their way through the dense treeline. The pair acted as if they were a single entity, each anticipating and mirroring the other's movements, their instincts honed through years of experience together. Although not born from the same parentage, they may as well have been brothers, so close was the bond between them. When one looked in any given direction, the other would cover his blind side. Slowly, the lead man stood, before quickly dashing to the next point along their path, the other following in his stead. Each had their role to fulfill, and they operated like a well-oiled machine.

  A loud cracking sound made the two drop down into crouched positions, their eyes scanning the horizon in the murky darkness. The wretched, ash-laden forest floor made for little in the way of vegetation or ground cover, leaving a landscape predominantly covered by thin, coniferous trees. The plants’ sickly, twisted forms, bereft of much of their needle-like leaves, provided little nourishment to the rest of the area's ecosystem. And yet despite the relatively barren terrain, the cloying, dank air was filled with swarms of incessant, biting insects, whilst the ground was home to writhing piles of worms and beetles feeding off any fallen detritus.

  The rearmost man gently lowered his two swords, noiselessly placing them on the ground, and slowly pulled back his garb's brown, woolen hood. He waited silently, rotating his head in either direction, trying to place any further noises. In the quietness of the lifeless terrain, the sound of his ever increasing heartbeat became an unnecessary and uncomfortable distraction. As irrational as he knew the fear to be, he still worried that the mere sound of it might give their position away to any unknown threats lurking beyond his vision. No follow up noise was forthcoming, and yet still they remained stationary, the tension at odds with their seemingly placid, barren surroundings.

  After several minutes, satisfied that anything which might have caught their scent would have acted by that point, the man tapped the lead ranger on the shoulder and softly whispered. “Falling bough.”

  A nodded acknowledgment was all it took, and the two continued on their way. Deftly sidestepping any obstacles or hazards in spite of the low-light conditions, their feet rolled onto their outer-most edges with every stride, spreading the weight of the men and reducing the impact and sound of each step. Eyes flicked between the forest floor and the horizon, constantly wary of any movement that seemed odd or out of place for the environment.

  Having covered another hundred yards or so, the front-most ranger, bow in hand, called a stop with a quick flick of his wrist, and turned to his comrade. “Randall, how far do you reckon?”

  Letting his swords fall to his sides, the man mulled the question over. “A mile and a half, maybe two? You thinking it's time to head back?”

  “Yeah, I don't want to push out too far from the rest of the column,” the first speaker answered. “A safe perimeter is one thing, but if we run into anything out here, we’ll be too far from the others for support, and then we'll just be alerting any enemy to our presence.”

  “No complaints from me,” Randall smiled at his friend's response and raised one eyebrow. “Sainted Ones, Warner, you would think after all this time we would be used to this place by now.”

  Warner chuckled. “The day I get used to the lands of the Abyss is the day I truly fear for my soul. You really want to feel at home next to that gateway of hellfire?”

  The other ranger shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Not when you put it like that.” As they turned to retrace their way back to their camp, he muttered to the archer.
“I swear though, if Denner has been at my food again, I will personally throw him into the pit myself.”

  * * * * *

  Aldous stood alone, staring skyward at the billowing plumes of toxic gas and filth that spewed forth from the Abyss. The deep crevasse may have lain far beyond the reaches of his sight, but its effects could be felt for vast distances in every direction. Like all of his fellows within the Brotherhood, Aldous had spent his entire life working against the forces of the Wicked Ones - the ancient fallen deities who had had all goodness ripped from their very souls. Long ago they had been cast down, trapped within the very tear in the world's core that they themselves had caused. Nevertheless, for untold generations, both their demonic minions and their sickening allies had harried the mortal races, a constant threat from which few were safe.

  And so it was that his people, bereft of home and hearth in the wake of the great floods, had made their pact – to stand guardian over the Abyss and all its foul ills, to do what others lacked the strength or will to do themselves. They were not alone in this task, but while others, like the Basilean Hegemony, were ruled by self-interest and mired in political machinations, the Brotherhood remained true to their cause. It was a burden, one he had been born into, but one that he carried proudly. Men could spend their whole lives searching for a sense of purpose, but he, along with the rest of his people, could stand firm in the purity and righteousness of their cause.

  Behind him, the knight could hear the sounds of his retinue as they broke camp. They had been on the march for several weeks, patrolling the periphery of the Wicked Ones’ domains, and during that time, Aldous had felt a growing sensation of unease build within him. In spite of his natural gifts, he had been unable to divine the cause of his apprehension, and that fact weighed heavy upon his shoulders. Removing one of his heavy gauntlets, he traced the course of its delicate, engraved filigree work with one finger. Such ornate ostentation was not commonplace amongst the knights of the Brotherhood, but his armor was a precious relic, blessed in ages past by the great mage Valandor and imbued with a portion of the man's immense power. Very few of his knightly brethren would ever be called upon to wear the plate-mail of his order. None could predict who would be chosen, and few were even able to speculate as to what caused the ancient suits to react to one person and not another.