BRUGELDA

iii. HOW TO RESTORE CHAOTIC MOMENTUM AND OPEN THE DOOR TO THE DEEP

[00:00] In a distant part of the world known only to the few, deep in the woods, in the upstairs room of a small cottage, Brugelda the witch is feeling her age. She is trying to cast a spell to look down into the underworld, to the place where the souls of the dead crowd the shore of the river Stýach, waiting for their final journey to begin. She screws up her face in concentration, but her tired old body cannot sustain chaotic momentum long enough for the spell to initiate. She sighs.

[00:35] Nothing for it; she will have to take her cousin Grumhilla's advice. She walks stiffly down the stairs, and goes out the backdoor into the dark woods.

Some time later...

[00:51] Brugelda is grumpy, tramping around the dank swamp, where ancient nurunya trees blot out the suns, leaving only an eerie purple glow. She is caked in dark swamp-mud that stinks of dead razorweebles. She hopes her former lover, the Oracle at Queederoth, from whom nothing is hidden, hasn't got his eye on her now. Blast that frozen fire!

Using lightning spells to illuminate the swamp, Brugelda sends strange forms scuttling and slithering away from the light. There! The Bilious two-toed Hornswoggler. With a deft movement, impressive for one so advanced in years, she scoops up the hornswoggler and scrubs herself all over with his scaly body. It is an experience neither party is thrilled about. Similar thoughts pass through both heads: memories of youthful dreams; high hopes unfulfilled, giving way to daily humiliations great and small; the endless drudgery.

Brugelda feels certain that Grumhilla has played a trick on her, and is about to give up, when suddenly something inside her is ignited...

[01:50] Brugelda runs back to the cottage, charged with a wild, pulsating vigour. She vaults up the stairs and grabs her spellbook. Words flow from her lips as the fiery magic races through her veins and sizzles in her synapses. Now, finally, she will see her nephew Dwarg, so mourned after his demise at the fangs of Myrkadorr, and learn if his soul is at rest. Her inner eye opens and looks down deep into the belly of the world among the shadows and wraiths, searching, searching ...and then suddenly stops, focussed on its object. Brugelda gasps.

How to Restore Chaotic Momentum and Open the Door to the Deep

iii. THE MAGIC OF THREE BRINGS THIS WORLD CLOSER TO THE NEXT

[00:00] The Oracle draws back from the Fire of Queederoth, dumbstruck by the sight he has witnessed in its frosty flames. He has spied on many a former lover this day, but not even he could have foreseen what he saw at the cottage of Brugelda the Bewitching. “So she has looked upon the Shadows of the Deep!” he thinks to himself. The Oracle sees all things of substance, but the Shadows of the Deep are just that; shadows. He is impressed that she has mastered such power. He must act quickly.

He studies himself in the mirror. Not bad, not bad. Humming an old gypsy tune to himself, he combs his bright blue beard and eyebrows and applies cologne. Then he clears his throat and chants an incantation into the mirror. He and his reflection start to go out of sync, time blurs, and the mirror’s surface begins to ripple.

[00:47] Elsewhere, Brugelda is still reeling from her mind-journey to the Deep when her mirror ripples in the corner of her eye. She turns and her reflection starts to take the shape of another. First, her eyebrows turn blue. “Queederoth, you unbelievable c..."

[01:02] “Brugelda, so delightful to see you again my dear!” the image interrupts her. After an exchange that mixes pleasantries and unpleasantries freely, Brugelda and The Oracle agree that her vision of the Deep requires action. “We will need the aid of my wayward cousin,” Brugelda says, resigned. The Oracle tries not to look too pleased.“So be it” he responds.

[01:23] Far away from both mirrors, in the form of a crow, Grumhilla soars across the sky, hunting. Her attention is drawn to the surface of the lake below. It has taken on a glass-like appearance and to her keen eyes the ripples forming on the glassy surface are unmistakable.

[01:36] Brugelda, Grumhila and The Oracle see their faces swirl and crash over each other in myriad versions. Brugelda shares with Grumhilla what she has found in the Deep.

[01:50] Each of them knows what must be done if they are to give a dead soul a living chance, and they are quick to act. In voices that crackle at the edges like kindling on the pyre, but at the centre sound like ashes swept with the wind, skipping key as their voices intermingle with one another, they invoke The Magic of Three and bend its force to the plane between the planes. The effort required is mighty, and the three sages strain their weathered minds and bodies to the very limits... a little more... a little more... before finally falling back, their powers exhausted.

The distance between our world and the next is less now — in some places — than it was. The barrier between them thinner. The three of them agree - they have done all they can. 
credits

The Magic of Three Brings This World Closer to the Next

i. A NEW QUEST BEGINS

[00:00] The call ends and Brugelda is alone once more. Her mind is quiet, her thoughts clear. She looks around at the objects in her dwelling - the dusty tomes and pickling jars, the comfy old rocking chair, the cauldron bubbling on the hearth. Each object appears to glow, imbued with the significance of existence. She sees them as if for the first time, but knows that it may be the last.

[00:24] Dwarg is not dead. That much is certain. But his soul is trapped between life and death, and the way back is perilous. The Magic of Three has opened a door, just a crack. If Dwarg is to find this door, and pass through it, he will need her help. A great journey lies ahead of her, across the wind-swept plains of Kydorr, through the dark forests of Ballinklaw and down to the edge of the world where two mighty rivers meet. She must leave immediately. She packs what little she needs into a small knapsack, grabs her Vulshaavian witchstaff, and says goodbye to the family of microelves living in an old potato at the back of the cupboard. Then she walks out of the cottage and closes the door behind her. Her quest is begun.

[01:05] A lone figure runs along the bank of a river. He carries a message of great importance. He has been running for a long time, and has become so accustomed to it that he feels as you or I would standing still. The path leaves the river and rises sharply up the side of a hill, over stiles and brooks and through a stand of trees. There is no sound but the shifting timbre of his footfall as one landscape gives way to the next, now muted grass, now crunching leaves, now the percussion of packed earth and stone. Onward.

PROLOGUE: A New Quest Begins

i. SHADOWS ON THE PLAINS OF KYDORR

[00:00] Long the road and hard the going. On Kydorr’s desolate plains, Brugelda eyes the empty skeletons of megaloths. A shadow falls across her heart.

Centuries have passed since the days of her youth. The once bright spark of hope has been extinguished within her and all that remains is her will, cold as steel and fixed and unmovable as the mountains that loom on the distant horizon.

[00:23] Her Vulshaavian witchstaff rides heavy in her hand. She knows she will have need of it all too soon. The cruel desert wind whips around her and tugs at the edges of her cloak as she strides onward.

She will find her nephew. But first she must fight many battles, for she has left all civilization far behind her - and these lands are stalked by MONSTERS.

[00:47] GORRGINDASVUUL LAYS WIDE ITS MAW THE DOOR TO EXTINCTION ROARING ZKALADROXX AND KNYTHMGWAARJ SMITE MOUNTAINSIDE TEAR LAKE ASUNDER LIQUID FIRE SHRIEKING STEEKLRS FOREST CRY OUT TO BE SAVED ANCIENT MOTHER SHIELD FROM CLAWS OF BARADLOAM THE GROANING EARTH LOOK UPWARD WHITE AND TERRIBLE EYES KNOWING FEAR THE DESTROYER COMES THROUGH NIGHT AND HOWLING STORM SLICING AIR WOOD STONE THE BRIDGE CANNOT HOLD FALL FALL FALL

[01:24] Some time later her unconscious body floats down a mountain stream into a wide lake and washes up at the shore of an island. Tendrils of grey hair move gently to and fro with the ebb and flow of the water, which mirrors the rise and fall of her breath. She dreams in black and white. She dreams in the voice of her departed nephew …

Shadows on the Plains of Kydorr

Floating At The Surface

High fantasy dungeon synth epic in music and text form. Find the stories in the liner notes and read along to the music, each volume another chapter in the Legends of Dwarg.

Contact us: legendsofdwarg@gmail.com