The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4 Read online

  The Sorcerer’s Path

  Book 1-4

  By

  Brock E. Deskins

  Cover Illustration Copyright © 2014

  Copyright ©2014 Brock E. Deskins

  Dingo Dog Publishing

  Copyright, Legal Notice and Disclaimer:

  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. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The Sorcerer’s Path

  The Sorcerer’s Ascension

  The Sorcerer’s Torment

  The Sorcerer’s Legacy

  The Sorcerer’s Vengeance

  The Sorcerer’s Scourge

  The Sorcerer’s Abyss

  The Sorcerer’s Return

  The Sorcerer’s Destiny

  Brooklyn Shadows

  Shrouds of Darkness

  Blood Conspiracy

  OTHER BOOKS BY BROCK E. DESKINS

  The Portal

  The Sorcerer’s Path

  The Sorcerer’s Ascension

  FOREWARD

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  EPILOGUE

  The Sorcerer’s Torment

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  EPILOGUE

  The Sorcerer’s Legacy

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  EPILOGUE

  The Sorcerer’s Vengeance

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  EPILOGUE

  SHROUDS OF DARKNESS

  Book 1

  The Sorcerer’s Ascension

  FOREWARD

  For most of history, the races existed as a scattering of destitute settlements, the largest of which could be called cities. Dragons ruled the lands and oppressed the races for their masters, faceless gods whose existence has been forgotten through the ages. Two thousand years ago, the elves discovered how to wield the Source, a mystical energy which allowed a few to weave powerful magic. Sharing this knowledge with those who possessed the ability, the races united to cast off the shackles of oppression and live as free people or die trying.

  The brilliant dwarven blacksmith, Dundalor Ironforger, crafted five magnificent suits of armor and gifted them to the greatest warriors amongst the races. Imbued with the magical ability of rune carving, Dundalor enchanted the suits to be able to withstand the dragons’ awesome might and terrible magic. The races banded together, and led by their heroes, fought for their freedom in the Great Revolution.

  Decades of slaughter cast a black pall over the land, but the races would not relent. To surrender would invite their destruction as punishment for challenging the old gods and their dragon overlords. With the aid of the new gods, a time of freedom grew from the ashes of their sacrifices.

  No longer united in a cause greater than their differences, the races became strangers once again. The elves withdrew, fearful of the rapid growth of the human realm. The dwarves sought sanctuary beneath the mountains, and the humans hailed their first king, Magnus Ollander. Magnus led the humans during a tumultuous time, putting down those who wanted to divide the new kingdom and claim power for themselves with the aid of Dundalor’s magnificent armor. Magnus created a bloodline legacy, tying his progeny to the throne for all time. One of those descendants, fearing another bloodline could use the armor to usurp the throne, ordered the armor scattered to the farthest corners of the land and the records of its existence destroyed.

  Today, a new Ollander, Jarvin, bastard son of Harlan Ollander, sits an unsteady reign. Unhappy with Jarvin’s rule, many of the wealthier and more influential nobles plot against the bastard king but none with more fervor than the powerful duke of Southport. The overwhelming support of the common people keeps the traitors from seizing the throne by force, so Duke Ulric searches for the fabled armor in hopes of using its influence to take the throne with minimal bloodshed and establish a new bloodline.

  CHAPTER 1

  Captain Darius Giles oversaw his crew as they loaded the last of the precious cargo aboard his ship, Storm Runner. The trinkets, jade statuettes, ivory carvings, animal pelts, and gold jewelry as well as local pieces of art and other exotic goods would bring in a small fortune even after he paid taxes and salaries. He cast a wary glance at the two men approaching as he supervised the loading of his cargo. Despite being a clear, warm night, they wore the hoods of their cloaks pulled up, casting their faces in shadow.

  “You are the captain of this vessel?” The taller of the two men inquired.

  “I’m Captain Giles. What can I do for you gentlemen this evening?”

  “We require transport for a piece of cargo,” the hooded stranger replied.

  Darius looked from the men to the laden cargo net stretched taut with the last of his heavy, wooden shipping crates. “I’m afraid I’ve a full hold, sir. Perhaps another ship will call to port and they can help you.”

  “It is expected in Southport as soon as is possible, and yours is the next ship departing. I assure you, it does not require a great deal of space, only the discretion of an honorable man,” the enigmatic stranger assured him, undeterred. “I have been told that you are such a man.”

  “I like to think so. I would have to inspect this cargo myself so I know it contains no contraband. I’m a loyal King’s man, and I’ll break none of his laws, especially those that could mean the loss of my ship, cargo, crew, or life.”

  “That is precisely the type of man we seek.” The hooded stranger reached into his cloak and produced a scroll. “Look upon the seal, sir, and you will note it is the King’s own. Inside, you will see that our request is made with the King�
��s authority.”

  Captain Giles examined the seal and found it was either authentic or a forgery of exceptional quality. He broke the seal and read the missive by lamplight. In simple terms, it requested the services of a reliable ship’s captain to deliver a small container of cargo to Southport with the utmost speed and discretion. The cargo was a state secret and not to be opened by captain, crew, or customs. A second group of men would meet the captain upon arrival in Southport where he would be provided with a similar document as proof of receipt of the aforementioned cargo. Any evidence of tampering discovered by the receiving party would be cause for charges of treason and espionage, both of which were punishable by death.

  “All right, gentlemen. Bring the crate, and if it is small enough I will secure it in my berth.”

  “That will do just fine, Captain,” the man said, handing him a purse heavy with coin. “This should be more than sufficient payment for transport of such a small piece of cargo and your personal assurance of security.”

  Twenty minutes later, the two men returned bearing a wooden crate with handles on two sides. They carried their burden to the Captain’s quarters and secured it in a chest after Darius made room. They left without another word and disappeared back into the darkness of the foreign city’s streets.

  Captain Giles decided to remain in his cabin instead of celebrating with his crew on their last night in port before catching the morning tide. He was in possession of the King’s property, and he would not relax his vigil over the special cargo.

  Storm Runner set sail in the morning with the rising tide. The large, three-masted ship caught a favorable wind and pushed steadily out to sea. The blow held true and propelled the ship along the gentle swells of the sea at a respectable clip for several days. Captain Giles said a quick prayer of thanks to Serron, god of the seas, for their continued good fortune.

  This had been a long and circuitous voyage. It was going on three months since they had sailed out of Southport, and he was eager to be home again with his beautiful wife, Celeste, and his son, Azerick, just as he knew his crew would be anxious to return to whomever or whatever was greatest in their own desires.

  Darius let his mind drift to thoughts of his family. He conjured a mental image of Celeste and longed to hold her again. Although she had been his wife of fifteen years, she still held his heart as strongly today as on the day they met.

  Azerick was thirteen and as smart as any boy he had ever known. Darius decided he would spend some time at home and let the other captains he employed take care of the shipping duties of his maritime trading company for a while. He needed to stay at least a couple of years at home, and if the gods willed it, give his son a little brother or sister. It was not as if he hadn’t tried on his previous stays between voyages, but this time he would devote some real time to his family instead of his work.

  After all, the business was doing well and could almost run itself without his constant attention for a time. He would have to find a good captain to take over his flagship, Storm Runner, while he stayed landlocked. Maybe it was time to reward his first mate by promoting him, as he deserved. Zeb was a good man; honest, hard-working, loyal to a fault, and kept a tighter ship than any captain he employed, including himself. Besides, Zeb had been a first mate since Darius himself began his sailing career. As he leaned on the aft railing looking out over the ocean, a call from the crow’s nest broke him out of his reverie.

  “Sails, four points off port abeam!” cried out the lookout.

  “Heading?” Captain Giles called up to the sailor on watch.

  “Cutting across on an intercept from the looks of it, Captain,” came the answer a full minute later.

  “Arm the catapult and ballista, man the scorpions, and draw weapons. Prepare to defend the ship,” Darius ordered as he stalked across Storm Runner’s rolling deck.

  Zeb chased after the sailors, ensuring every man was armed and at his station. The crew cranked and loaded the ballista on the aft deck and its smaller counterparts, the scorpions. They wound the catapult on the foredeck, locked its swing arm into place, and seated jars of flammable oil in the basket, which they would light just before launching them at the enemy vessel if forced to defend themselves.

  Pirates have been the plagues of the seas for centuries, especially this far out where Valaria’s meager navy did not patrol. His was a paranoid, aggressive response but for good reason. Few merchants risked this dangerous voyage, which is what made his cargo so valuable, and Darius would not lose it without a fight.

  “Tack three points to starboard. We’ll see if we can outrun them.”

  “Unknown ship tacking to match new heading, Captain, and still on an intercept course,” the update came about ten minutes later.

  Captain Giles cursed their ill-turning luck. “That’s all the proof I need to call them pirates, boys. If we can’t outrun them, fire as soon as they come within range and send them to Serron if they choose not to let us pass.”

  The Captain’s proclamation was met with a loud huzzah of support from his crew. The chase continued for most the day before the other ship came within range. The crew of the Storm Runner could see the pirates on the deck of the pursuing ship now aiming their own foredeck catapult. The ballista had a greater range than the small catapult, and his men started launching its two meter, steel-tipped shafts at the advancing vessel.

  The javelins cut through lines, sails, and any man unfortunate enough to be in the bolts' paths. One of the bolts found purchase when the bow swung wide and presented a flat plane and punched through the hull, but the wound was well above the waterline and presented little risk. The pirate ship was now within range to use its own catapult and began flinging chain to tear sails and foul the rigging. It also stripped men out of the rigging perched there with loaded crossbows, ready to unleash their quarrels on the pirates as they came within range.

  “Load incendiary pots in the ballista!” Captain Giles ordered.

  His faithful and fearless crew obeyed his commands without hesitation, replacing the heavy ballista bolts with the oil-filled flasks. They launched the flammable jugs as soon as one of the sailors lit the wick. The clay pot sped through the air with in a moderate arc and shattered as it struck. The incendiary burst into a spray of liquid fire, wreathing the front of the boat in fire, but the sea spray from the rising and plunging bow washed the oil and flames away.

  The sailors manning the heavy weapon raised their aim and fired a second shot, which shattered into the deck of the pursuing vessel. The crew of the Storm Runner cried out in triumph as the deck of the enemy vessel caught fire. Their elation was short-lived as the pirate crew smothered the flames with buckets of sand. The enemy ship may have been crewed by degenerates and scum, but the pirates were an experienced lot. It was apparent they had soaked the deck with saltwater before engaging, and the burning oil did little damage to the wooden structure before they extinguished it. Chain shot and fist-sized stones continued to tear into the rigging and rain down upon the deck and heads of Captain Giles’ ship and crew.

  “Damn these pirates! Just our luck to get a pirate ship with a first class crew! Zeb, have some of the men bring up a few barrels of that demon fire from the hold,” Captain Giles ordered.

  “Demon fire?” his first mate paled. “Are you sure?”

  “Damn it, man! If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn't have issued the order! Now move it!”

  “Aye aye, Captain!”

  It was unheard of for Zeb to second-guess his captain, but fire was one of the greatest fears on a ship, and demon fire, or dragon’s spit as some called it, was the most flammable substance known to man. It burned so hot it could reduce a man to ash and bones in moments and could not be extinguished by water. Minutes later, Zeb and several sailors had four barrels of the volatile liquid brought to the rear of the ship.

  “I want a plank strapped to each side of the stern at a downward angle to create a trough. When we pour this stuff out, I don’t want any of the infernal con
coction to touch my ship.” Captain Giles ordered.

  Zeb and his fellow sailors lashed a six-foot long, one-foot wide plank at the rear of the ship on each side to create a track for the heavy liquid to follow in order to keep it off their vessel.

  “Open up those barrels and pour ‘em down the runnel. Quickly now! You men grab torches and carefully swab a bit of that mess on to each of them and lash them to a ballista bolt then throw the casks over the side as soon as they’re empty! ”

  The pirate vessel had done significant damage and was overtaking the wounded Storm Runner. The pirate crew ceased launching chain into the rigging and sails and now flung small stones and shards of metal in an attempt to clear the deck before boarding.

  Only Captain Giles, Zeb, and a handful of sailors, hidden behind the ballista and the aft railing, remained on deck after ordering the rest of the men below, but they were all prepared to rush back topside to defend against a boarding party.

  His ballista crew used the empty, floating barrels as reference points to time their attack. Darius let the pirate vessel get near the first barrel before ordering his men to light and fire the ballista bolt into the shimmering, oily stretch of ocean between them and their pursuers.

  The flaming brand arced across the water before falling into the sea. The combustible liquid floating on the surface of the water burst into flames when the torch struck the oily sheen. The pirate vessel now plowed through a blazing river of fire flowing atop the rolling swells of the sea.

  The conflagration stretched several feet in the air, adhered to the hull of the attacking ship, and ignited the wood above the water line. Left to its own devices, the demon fire would even burn below the water. The pirate captain realized the mortal danger he and his vessel were in and ordered his crew to swing hard to starboard to get out of the narrow channel of deadly fire.

  “All hands on deck! Man the catapult. You men resume firing the ballista. Zeb, bring us broadside to that ship!” Captain Giles ordered as his men scrambled from below decks.