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~o0o~ Chapter ~o0o~
Back a Black Tower, things were not getting any better. Unicorn, for all his fearless brawn and bravado, had emotional issues, anxieties, and phobias that he rarely let any one know about. Carefully hidden behind his pranks and sass, was a scared little boy, haunted by the memory of that horrible day when he had been left behind.
His people are not particularly "family oriented" and have very survival of the fittest belief system. If you fall behind, you get left behind. No one would waste time on a frail, weak, sickly runt who couldn't keep up. Not even the mother of a small child, should her child fall ill.
They were hunters who followed the herd with the seasons. So one year, when winter came and the herd moved on, they went with it. He, at the time was a small child, about 5 or so years old, and had fallen ill. As the tribe moved onward, he had trouble keeping up and fell behind. Before long they were far ahead. By nightfall they were out of sight. He wandered for days trying to catch up with them, but snow covered their tracks and he soon got lost. Already sick, the cold made him sicker. He spent the winter surviving on anything he could find. Between poor health, frigid cold, and near starvation he barely survived the winter. He came across a dead Elf, and survived the winter, by eating it's flesh.
He wandered aimlessly, growing up a wild feral child. Already a type of Dark Trickster Fae known for their cruel brutal nature, he grew up darker, crueler, and more vicious than normal. With no social skills, and living like a wild animal, he became a predator, hunting anything that moved to survive. Unlike others of his, now lost tribe, he did not hunt with weapons, but instead with his long sharp claws. The taste of that first Elf long ago, filled him with lust for more Elf blood. Like a wild, rabid animal he attacked Elves and tore them to shreds, eating them, often while they were still alive. Thus he became known as The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley.
That his mother abandoned him, ever lurked in his mind, filling him with anguish and hate. Unloved. Unwanted. Cast out. Abandoned. Left behind. Left to die. These thoughts burned in his mind over and over again. As an adult he found it difficult to form relationships. A creature with sharp fangs and deadly talons, he was quick to rip out the throat of any lover who dared abandon him.
He grew to hate women. His mother abandoned him. His lovers abandoned him. In his mind women were vile evil, heartless beasts incapable of love. His desire to be loved pushed him onward in search of a mate, but his fierce, violent ways kept women running from him. The more women who refused him, the more hatred filled his heart. The loss of hope, the depths of desire, the belief that no one could ever love him, finally overcame him, driving him to suicide via a Lich making spell, that turned him into an undead beast, that would rise up and lash out at everyone, everywhere, because all he wanted was to be accepted and loved and all he was ever meet with was fear, loathing, and hate.
No one knew his real name, not even him. Gwallmaiic is a name that was given to him by a Welsh Human boy, whom he refers to as "my boy".
BoomFuzzy is a name he used when pretending to be an Elf.
Unicorn is a nickname Quaraun gave him, when Quaraun found out that the Phooka's true form was that of a unicorn.
Phookas are very vengeful creatures. They become extremely dangerous when offended, hurt, or angered. It is best to never get a Phooka mad at you as they can literally, physically turn themselves into your worst nightmare than take up residence under our bed or in your closet and torment you each night.
Gwallmaiic is known for his shark like blood frenzies, and piranha like ability to reduce a person to bones n under 8 minutes. He is a vicious monster in the truest sense of the word monster. He is not a man who "acts like a monster", but rather is an actual, monster.
In the final years of his life, he grew ill, his joints arthritic and muscles weak, his eyes silvered with blindness. Due to an inability to see his prey to catch them, he slowly began to starve to death.
The final year of his life he was living in agony, starvation having reduced the once feared beast to a crippled skeletal pony, that now truly was the injured little pony he had long pretended to be when catching prey.
He commit suicide in a Lich making ritual, and rose from the dead as a beast 10 times more deadly then he had been in life. He hired a Necromancer to murder his army and resurrect them as Liches.
Then the leader of an army of Liches. King Gwallmaiic continues his reign of terror. But now, there is no stopping him. Human armies have fought against the Lich lord and won, only to find that the Lich automatically resurrects after each death, coming back more powerful then the time before.
They were known as The Wild Hunt, an army of undead skeletal Frost Liches that bring frozen death to everything they touch.
The past few years had seen a change in the best. Two Elves had entered his life. Quaraun, whom he deeply loved and GhoulSpawn whom he tolerated. They's changed him, without meaning to. Softened his harshness, smoothed out his rough edges. No more the vicious bloodthirsty, hate filled beast the world had come to fear, Unicorn had finally found the thing he had always wanted: a home, a family, some to love, someone who loved him in return.
Living with the two Elves had been good for him. A gentle, peaceful side of him had surfaced. Taking care of the two Elves had become his life, his joy.
...and now they were gone...
In the blik of an eye.
There one second, and gone the next.
A portal had opened up from out of no where and swallowed them both together.
Where it had taken them, he did not know.
Frantic he had tried to follow them, but portal magic was not his skill. The portal had closed behind them and he knew not how to open it back up.
And now, once again, Unicorn found himself alone.
The thing he hated most.
Like his monther had done.
No. Not like his mother. She had left him willfully. She had not loved him. She had not come back for him.
His Elves loved him, and they did not leave of their own free will. They would find their way back to him... somehow. Some day.
But he knew portals. Each Elf had been taken before. But one was always left behind to help him find the one gone missing.
GhoulSpawn was the expert in portal magic. Quaraun had only minimal knowledge, and that only because he had once been taken away and had spent years, several years, trying to get back to his friends. But Unicorn knew nothing of portal magic. He did not know where to even begin. A powerful wizard in his own right, his skill was not in portals, and the skills he did have, were not helping him now.
Now the Phooka sat on the floor of GhoulSpawn's alchemy lab. Spell books piled around him, as he stared blankly into their pages.
Unicorn couldn't read.
He stared at the words, hoping against hope that something would make sense. Some diagram. A doodle. A chart. A drawing. Something. But nothing. GhoulSpawn spent hours each day drawing charts and graphs and diagrams and equations. Writing up formulas, filling every inch of his books with notes. He wrote everything down. Even on the walls. And the floors. The tables. Stray pieces of paper. Napkins. Tablecloths. GhoulSpawn's scientific scrawlling covered the entire room. GhoulSpawn was a scientist, and alchemist, and a wizard. Hellbent on finding his father, whom had decades ago beem lost to a portal. GhoulSpawn was determined to unlock the secrets of the portals. Convinced they could be harnessed and controlled.
Portals. Dangerous invisible holes, that opened up in the sky, and sucked anyone unfortunate enough to be under them, inside, spiting them out sometimes on the other side of the world, sometimes in the past, sometimes in the future, and sometimes on another planet in the far reaches of the galaxy. Each portal always went to the same place. Thus they could be mapped and charted, and used as modes of travel... at least, that's what GhoulSpawn had concluded.
Unicorn stared at the notes. He wished he knew what the words said. He stared at the page, willing the book to tell him it's secrets. But it was no use. Unicorn was illiterate. Whatever was written on these pages, he did not know.
It had been days since his two Elves had vanished.
Days by himself.
Days sent sitting on the floor, staring at the words in GhoulSpawns books and hoping against hope, that somehow he'd miracuosly know what it said.
The familiar crackling sound thundered through the sky. A portal had opened somewhere, not far away. Unicorn listened, trying to determine the direction of it. It was outside. In the forest. But the trees carried the thunderous sound over their branches, muffling the source direction.
He sniffed the air. His keen sence of smell could pick up minute scents a mile away. If the portal had brought back his Elves, he should be able to smell them.
Unicorn dropped the book and stood up quickly, sniffing the air.
A horrible scent had hit his nose.
"Blood," he whispered.
"A lot of it."
Unicorn ran from the alchemy lab, up the stairs to the ground level of Black Tower and sniffed the air again. The scent was stronger now. Yes. He was certain of it. It was GhoulSpawn. Wounded. Bleeding. But the smell of blood was strong. It was a lot of blood. More blood than one Elf could safely lose.
Unicorn ran from the house, outside to the garden. Following the smell of the blood he ran to the forest, to Crystal Lake, by Crystal Falls, at the foot of Blueberry Gorge. The pungent smell of blood was horrific here. As though the forest were bathed in blood. He looked around, knowing GhoulSpawn must be here somewhere, and then he saw it, a few yards away from the edge of the lake. A crumpled, bloody pile of neon orange cloth. The lush green sagum moss, glistening red with blood. More blood, flowing too fast, running down spattering on the scattered limbs and twigs. The brown pine carpet, fast turning red.
Unicorn knelt beside the dying wizard. His body was still warm. Unicorn could heard him still breathing. But the source of the blood was unclear. The orange silk robes were fast turning a sticky wet red. Unicorn knew the amount of blood being lost, meant the wound was terrible.
"Where are ya hurt?"
"My leg. My arm. My head. It hurts so much. Everything hurts. Except my leg. I don't want to lose my leg. I can't feel my leg."
Unicorn lifted the half-Elf's robes. His let leg was severed, the bone broken off and protrudging though the flesh. There was very little holding his leg together.
"Oh my. What happened to ya?"
"White Rock. They'll kill me. Please help me."
The old half-Elf passed out.
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