Deltora Quest feats, lore & respect discussion thread

[Stocking Anarchy]

Ols are shape-shifting formless horrors created by the Shadow Lord to spy and do its evil bidding. When attacking, they reveal their true forms.

The Dread Gnome Sha-Ban told me of these white, formless creatures that could take the shape of any living thing - human, animal, or even insect. When attacking, she said, Ols emerge from their disguise, rising like ghastly, flickering white flames with holes for eyes, gaping, toothless mouths, and strangling hands.

“What are these Ols?” Jasmine demanded, as she passed Dain a mug of tea for himself.
“Shape-changers from the Shadowlands,” Dain said, stirring a spoonful of honey into his own cup. “The Shadow Lord uses them to do his evil work. Perhaps I should not be surprised that you have not heard of them before. They are more common here, in the west, than in the east, where you come from.”

There are three levels of Ol; Grade One Ols, Grade Two Ols and Grade Three Ols, which each level up getting better at disguising itself, smarter and more powerful. Ols can take the shape of any living thing. Though they do not eat or drink, Grade Two Ols can pretend to do so, and even create body heat to further their disguise. Every Ol has the mark of the Shadow Lord somewhere on its body (though Grade Two Ols and up are much more clever with where they hide their marks), and Grade Two Ols can only hold their form for three days, after which their shape begins to change and waver for a few seconds (this is called the tremor).

“They are everywhere,” Dain said, pulling his blanket more tightly around him. “They can take the shape of any living thing. They do not eat or drink, but Grade Twos can pretend to do so, just as they can create body heat to disguise what they are. In its natural state, every Ol has the mark of the Shadow Lord at its core, and whatever shape it takes, the mark will be somewhere on its body, in some form.
“The twins — the Ols we killed — each had a mark on the left cheekbone,” said Lief. “Was that —?”
Dain nodded. “But do not expect that it will always be so easy,” he warned. “Grade Two Ols are far more expert. They never have the mark in plain view.”
“You are saying, then,” Barda put in, frowning, “that recognizing a Grade Two Ol is just a matter of luck?”
Dain smiled slightly. “There is a way of testing them,” he said. “They cannot hold one shape for longer than three full days. If you observe a Grade Two Ol, and never let it out of your sight, there will come a moment when it loses control and its shape begins to change and waver. We call this moment the Tremor. It does not last long. In seconds the Ol has regained control. But by that time, you know it for what it is.”

Grade One Ols always travel in pairs (though Grade Two Ols may not have this limitation, and Grade Three Ols defiantely don't).

Dain swallowed the last of his tea and stood up awkwardly, protecting his injured arm. “I will leave you in peace. Be on the watch for Ols. Grade Ones, like the two we have just dispatched, always travel in pairs. The others — well, you will probably not recognize them, anyway. It is best to trust no one.”

The Shadow Lord sent hundreds of Ols into Deltora to spy and kill.

She said that Ols had been created by the Shadow Lord and sent into Deltora in the hundreds to spy and kill.

To kill an Ol, one must pierce it through its heart, which is located on the right hand side.

“Through the heart!” the injured boy shouted. “Stab it through the heart! Kill it outright or it will finish him!”
“It is stabbed through the heart already,” Jasmine shrieked. “It does not fall.”
Growling, the thing turned on her. With a cry she was swept aside by a rush of white that sent her sprawling.
“Now, Lief! Strike on the right side!” the boy screamed. “The heart is on the right side, not the left!”

Ols posses incredible strength, and their touch is so cold as to be crippling.

If you suspect you are in the company of an Ol, slip away quietly. Do not try to stand and fight. Ols have enormous strength, and the dread chill of their touch is crippling. They can only be destroyed by being pierced through the heart, which is on the right side instead of the left.

An Ols touch can chill to the bone.

The boy nodded briefly, then limped to where Barda was lying and looked down at him. “Your friend needs warming,” he said. “He is wet, and Ol attacks chill to the bone.”

An attack from even a Grade One Ol can leave bruises (seemingly from the sheer cold), as it did with Barda.

“Or,” Barda put in, “if your suspicions are correct, to be spied upon by the Ol at its leisure, or killed when you least expect it. Once those icy fingers are around your throat, you are helpless. You can take my word for it, Jasmine.” He touched his own bruised throat tenderly.

We also see this when Doom is attacked by a Grade Three Ol.

He clasped the Belt around his waist and threw himself down to the bottom of the pyramid, to where Doom lay. Doom was muttering, shuddering with cold. His lips were blue. Great red marks wound around his neck. There was a swelling bruise on his brow.

Regular weapons are useless against an Ol in its true form except if used to pierce through it's heart.

Gasping in horror, Jasmine and Lief both lunged forward, stabbing and tearing at the thing, trying to pull it away from Barda. The cold, wavering mass shrank and re-formed. The thing staggered, but its grip held.
“Through the heart!” the injured boy shouted. “Stab it through the heart! Kill it outright or it will finish him!”
“It is stabbed through the heart already,” Jasmine shrieked. “It does not fall.”
Growling, the thing turned on her. With a cry she was swept aside by a rush of white that sent her sprawling.
“Now, Lief! Strike on the right side!” the boy screamed. “The heart is on the right side, not the left!”

The cold of an Ol is said to freeze limbs, sting eyes and turn lips to ice. An Ol picks up Jasmine with one hand, while grabbing Lief's arm with the other (with it's grip being compared with 'frozen iron').

The chill of the Ol came before it — a breathtaking cold that froze the limbs, stung the eyes, and turned the lips to ice. Gasping, staggering back, trying to shield Lief with her body, Jasmine swung her dagger at the white, grasping fingers. Half-stunned with cold, Kree dashed himself against the thing’s peaked head.
But nothing, nothing could stop it. The fingers of one hand snaked forward and caught Jasmine around the neck, lifting her from the ground. Almost carelessly, the other hand grasped Lief’s dagger arm in a grip of frozen iron. The dagger fell clattering to the deck.

Beyond Grade One and Grade Two are Grade Three Ols, in whom the Shadow Lord is said to have perfected his evil art. They can turn into even inanimate objects, and can mimic a person so perfectly that not even Doom (who can sense the presence of Ols) can tell them for what they are.

Jasmine lifted her chin stubbornly and turned again to Dain. “You have spoken of Grade One Ols, and Grade Twos. Are there other grades as well?”
Dain hesitated. “Doom says that there is another,” he said reluctantly at last. “He says there are Grade Three Ols. He says they are few, but in them the Shadow Lord has perfected his evil art. They can change their shape to whatever they wish — living or nonliving. They are so perfect, so completely controlled, that no one could tell them for what they are. Even Doom could not.”
“Then how does he know they exist at all?” Jasmine demanded.
Lief watched, fascinated, as Dain’s eyelids drooped, and he bit his lip. What was troubling him?
Jasmine saw the hesitation, too, and pounced. “Well?” she insisted.
Dain swallowed. “Doom says — he says he learned of them — in the Shadowlands,” he muttered.

And Doom claimed that there were Ols who could take the form of things that were not living — Grade 3 Ols, the perfection of the Shadow Lord’s evil art. If the tale was true, and such beings really existed, the very bush on which Kree perched, or the pebble at Lief’s feet, could be a secret enemy. At any moment a horrible transformation could begin. At any moment a white, flickering specter with the Shadow Lord’s mark in its core could rise and overwhelm them.
Nowhere was safe. Nothing could be trusted.

At least one of the advisors for the royal family of Del, Prandine, and his successor Fallow, were Grade Three Ols.

... where one dies, there is always another to take his place. The Master likes this face and form. He chose to repeat it in me ...
Lief had not known what that meant, when first he heard it. Now he knew only too well.
Fallow was an Ol, and perhaps — almost certainly — one of the Grade 3 Ols Doom had heard of in the Shadowlands. The triumph of the Shadow Lord’s evil art. An Ol so perfect, so controlled, that no one could tell it was not human. An Ol that could mimic nonliving things as well as living creatures. An Ol that was evil and powerful beyond anything Lief could imagine.
Prandine, King Endon’s chief advisor, had been one such being. Of that Lief was sure. Fallow, made in his image, had taken up the Shadow Lord’s work where Prandine had finished.

However, while Grade Three Ols are the most powerful of all the Ols, when in human form they are also the most vulnerable.

Lief turned restlessly. Queen Sharn had killed Prandine — tipped him from the palace tower window to crash to his death. Grade 3 Ols paid a price for their perfection, then. They could die as humans could.

Dain reveals that he too is a Grade Three Ol, and took the form of his own dagger when he tricked everyone into thinking Ichabod had kidnapped him.

His mouth twisted in scorn at the expressions on Lief’s face. “You fool! You never dreamed that Ichabod was acting under my orders. That he had not carried me away, but was running alone in the dark, babbling of Del! And when you found the dagger I had become, you did not suspect it for a moment — even though you knew that Grade 3 Ols could take any shape they wished. You put it in your own belt, as I knew you would, snivelling for my loss, little knowing that you were carrying me with you from that time on. I was watching your every move. Listening to your every plan. Waiting to see how best I could destroy the devil Steven and that accursed Belt. And when I knew enough — I left you, and came here to prepare ... this.”

Dain's grip is compared to 'icy steel,' and with a glance he makes it so that Lief's sword is too hot for him to hold.

His hand swung, striking Lief’s arm a tremendous blow, knocking the Belt into the fire. With a cry, Lief grabbed for it. But Dain had his wrist in a grip of icy steel. Dain’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly Lief’s sword was white-hot. It fell from his blistered hand and clattered, useless, down the steps of the platform.

Dain transforms back into his true form to avoid being stabbed in the heart by Doom, and the cold that's unleashed extinguishes

With a cry, Doom leaped upon Dain, knocking him down, his sword plunging for the heart. But Dain twisted like a snake, his body dissolving, rising again in a column of sickly white. Icy mist coiled around him. He whirled around, his fingers reaching for Doom’s throat. Long, thin fingers, bringing with them the chill of death.
Lief staggered back, shuddering in a cold that was beyond imagining. The fire wavered, and went out.

These flames were part of a bonfire to burn Dain (whom even the Grey Guards don't realise is a Grade Three Ol), which was even oiled to make it burn more furiously.

Torches were blazing everywhere. Ten Grey Guards were working in the middle of the square. They were heaving huge blocks of stone into place to make a stepped pyramid with a flat top. Through the center of the pyramid rose a tall pole, towering high and held in place by the blocks that surrounded it.

Torches were blazing everywhere. Ten Grey Guards were working in the middle of the square. They were heaving huge blocks of stone into place to make a stepped pyramid with a flat top. Through the center of the pyramid rose a tall pole, towering high and held in place by the blocks that surrounded it.

“Awake at last, your majesty?” Bak 1 was sneering. “That’s good.” He beckoned, and his fellows began toiling up towards him, their arms full of dead branches. As they dumped the wood around Dain’s feet, piling it high, Bak 6 sprinkled it with oil.

In seconds he had reached the platform. Alone he leaped up to the top, sliced through the ropes that bound Dain, pulled the limp body from the flames.

When Dain is destroyed, all the other Ols in the square are left in a confused & aimless state.

Lief looked up wildly. Jasmine and Barda were racing towards him. The Ols in the square were not coming after them. They were wavering, aimlessly clustering together, as though they were confused. It was as though the source of their power had been struck a blow by the destruction of the great one among them.
But already some of them were starting to recover. And the red clouds were tumbling, boiling, as they raced towards the city.

There at least a hundred of Ols in the square.

Shouts and groans rang from the square as Jasmine and Barda, torches blazing, held back a hundred crawling Ols, and the prisoners were dragged away. The sky was a mass of scarlet cloud.

Rats poured from the little yard where the caravan stood. As they ran they shimmered and paled, rising into wavering white flames with coals for eyes and gaping, toothless mouths. And in the core of every one was the Shadow Lord’s mark.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Ak-Baba are seven dreadful birds that serve the Shadow Lord. They eat the flesh of the dead and live for a thousand years. It was the seven Ak-Baba who carried the seven gems to be hidden in the most feared, dreadful places in Deltora.

It was still too dark to see them clearly. But there was no doubt that they were huge birds. There were seven. Their necks were long. Their great, hooked beaks were cruel. Their mighty wings flapped clumsily but strongly, beating at the air. As Jarred watched, they swooped, rose again, and then separated, flying off swiftly in different directions.
A name came to him. A name from the school room of his past. “Ak-Baba,” he hissed. His arm tightened around Anna’s shoulders. She turned to him, her eyes wide and frightened.
“Ak-Baba,” he repeated slowly, still staring at the palace. “Great birds that eat dead flesh and live for a thousand years. Seven of them serve the Shadow Lord.”

“Seven Ak-Baba were flying together around the palace tower on the day the gems were taken,” he went on.
“They separated and flew off in different directions. We believe that each was carrying one of the gems, and each was going to one particular place to hide it. See here. I have drawn a map.”

Lief’s blood seemed to chill in his veins. His father had told him of the Ak-Baba — giant, vulture-like birds that lived a thousand years. Seven of them were the servants of the Shadow Lord. It was they who had carried the gems from the Belt of Deltora to their perilous hiding places.

The Shadow Lord uses the Ak-Baba when a task requires great speed.

It is now recognised, however, that the seven Ak-Baba patrolling Deltora are wild birds. They are creatures of the Shadow Lord, used to spy, destroy, and accomplish tasks that require great speed.

The seven Ak-Baba are altered versions of birds from a distant land across the seas called al-baba, but the seven Ak-Baba of the Shadow Lord have been altered to be bigger, stronger, more dangerous and more evil than the regular birds. The minds of the Ak-Baba are believed to be connected directly with that of the Shadow Lords.

At first, these birds were called dragon birds. Later, when the people of the coast saw them, they became known as the seven Ak-Baba, for they resembled fearsome birds of that name seen by sailors in distant ports.
But the seven were plainly not wild birds. They were far larger than the birds the sailors had seen. They had teeth and spines, and a foul odour hung about them. They had been bred to kill and seemed to obey orders no one else could hear, as if their minds were linked with the mind of their master beyond the mountains.

The minds of the Ak-Baba seem to be linked directly to the Shadow Lords, as they do its will without spoken command.

And, most important, their minds appear to be linked to that of the Shadow Lord, for they do his will without spoken command. Our conclusions must be that they have been altered, or bred, to suit the Shadow Lord’s purposes.

Even natural Ak-Baba can live for a thousand years, but Shadowlands Ak-Baba have been modified to be more dangerous and vicious.

Shadowlands Ak-Baba may well be able to live 1,000 years, as their foreign cousins are said to do, but they are far larger and more ferocious-looking. Unlike true Ak-Baba, they have teeth as well as tearing beaks & they have spines on their backs, necks & heads. They have clearly been trained to kill.

The Ak-Baba are described as moving at incredible speeds.

They floundered forward a few steps, but all of them knew it was no
use. The Ak-Baba was flying with incredible speed. It would be upon them long before they could reach safety.
Already it could see the smoke of the burning city. When it saw three ragged strangers escaping from the plain it would know at once that they were enemies of the Shadow Lord.

The Ak-Baba that delived the Opal to the City of the Rats on the morning that the Shadow Lord invaded (meaning that the Ak-Baba are fast enough to fly from Del to the middle of Deltora in less than a morning).

Barda shrugged. “The City of the Rats has an evil reputation, and an Ak-Baba was seen in the skies above it on the morning the Shadow Lord invaded. We can be almost sure that one of the Belt’s gems has been hidden there.”

The Ak-Baba sweep down upon and attack the armies of the Seven Tribes.

The Ak-Baba swooped, snatching and tearing at screaming soldiers on the plain, then soaring back into the air with dripping beaks and talons, screeching in triumph.

I have been called mad for saying so, but it is not beyond belief that these individuals are in fact the very same Ak-Baba that ravaged Adin's army in the final battle against the Shadow Lord's hordes.

Flaming arrows are a bother to the Ak-Baba, but only because they are on fire, as the arrows by themselves are not enough to pierce their scaly hides.

Ak-Baba screeched with rage as the flaming arrows reached their marks. The arrows could not pierce the monstrous birds’ scaly hides. But the flames licked at their wings, and their feathers began to smoke. As one, they charged the city, intent on destroying the puny archers who had dared to attack them.

An Ak-Baba of the Shadowlands reaches less than a quarter of the size of a dragon, and can easily swoop up a grown human.

Though they are less than a quarter of an average dragon in size’,they are quite powerful enough to snatch an adult human from the
ground.

A group of Ak-Baba are capable of fighting dragons and even killing them. It's also brought up that no weapons were able to harm them (outside fire).

The people of the north fought valiantly. The dragons of the north fought also, battling the Ak-Baba and cutting great swathes through the army, swooping from the air with fire gusting from their jaws.
The Ak-Baba worked as a pack, slaughtering dragons where they could, fleeing back to the mountains and safety when the dragons were too many to defeat. They were wily, and no weapon seemed to harm them.

Then a thunderous roar split the air, and a glittering dragon swept over the river. Its scales gleamed with every colour of the rainbow. Its vast wings blocked the sun. The Gnomes on the walls and the fighters on the ground all yelled in terror. But the dragon had no interest in the city or the plain just now.
Belching fire, it challenged the Ak-Baba, the invaders of its skies. Instantly, the Ak-Baba wheeled and flung themselves at the dragon, attacking it on all sides, like a pack of ravenous wolves.

Infact, it's the Ak-Baba who are believed to be responsible for the near-extinction of Deltora's dragons, as the foul birds teamed up against them; infact (outside the Battle of Deltora were the Belt of Deltora pushed back the Shadow Lord and saved the Opal Dragon) there are no recorded cases of a dragon killing an Ak-Baba (at least not before Lief's time).

No weapon has yet proved successful against them. Even the mighty winged Dragons of old could not defeat them. Several eye witness reports of terrible sky battles between single Dragons and up to five of the Seven Ak-Baba are included in The Deltora Annals. The fights raged for days, but always the Dragon was at last destroyed. It is no doubt the Seven Ak-Baba are responsible for the gradual decline in Deltoran Dragon numbers, and their present [Believed] extinction [see Dragons, p. 46].

An Ak-Baba can create great gouges in stone with it's claws.

Startled, Sonia and Dirk both turned to stare at him. He scrambled to his feet and gestured furiously at the surrounding rocks, and what remained of the pyramid. Great grooves had been carved into the stones. Thousands of snails torn away by the monster’s talons were lying in heaps on the ground.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Grey Guards are the standard foot soldiers of the Shadow Lords armies. Although they look like humans, they are actually inhuman brutish monsters created by the Shadow Lord, who don't feel the same emotions humans do, relishing in cruelty and spite.

Grey Guards, slavish servants of the Shadow Lord, appear human, but are monsters in the truest sense. Created by their master to enforce his evil will, they lack all normal human emotions, relishing cruelty and destruction above all else.

Grey Guards posses great physical strength, as well as speed & endurance. They have keen sight and hearing, and frequently hunt by their sense of smell.

They have great physical strength, are capable of enormous speed and endurance, have keen sight and hearing, and frequently hunt by scent.

Lief skidded to a stop as two Grey Guards turned a corner in front of him and began pacing in his direction. They were talking and had not yet heard him, seen him, or caught his scent. But when they did ...

“Be silent!” hissed Jasmine. “The Guards will hear you! As it is, they may catch our scent at any time.”

They began to walk, Kree fluttering ahead of them. Soon they found a tiny stream which had been swelled by the rain. They plunged into it and splashed along its bed for as long as they could, hoping that the water would disguise their scent.
All of them felt bruised and ill and longed to rest. But the thought of the Grey Guards following them like evil tracking dogs drove them on.

Grey Guards can run for days and nights without rest.

But Lief knew this could not last. Already, he was panting. Weakened from his ordeal in the chasm, he did not have the strength he needed to outrun the enemy. Grey Guards could run for days and nights without rest, and could smell out their prey wherever it was hiding.

Grey Guards don't age, but instead live for seven years and then weaken and die. When their fail date arrives, they return to the Shadowlands and are replaced by an identical pod with the same name (Grey Guards work in pods of ten identical brothers).

In ancient days Grey Guards, then rarely seen in Deltora, were thought to be immortal. It is now known that, though they do not age visibly, they suddenly weaken and die after seven years. The mistaken belief in their immortality arose because when the members of any one pod near their “fail date” (as the seven-year limit is known), they are recalled to the Shadowlands and replaced by a fresh set of ten bearing the same pod name, and with exactly the same appearance.

The primary weapon of the Grey Guards are blisters, which contain the poison of the great toad Gellick.

Their chief weapons are leather slings with which they hurl egg- shaped missiles known as “blisters.” Blisters burst on contact, releasing a burning poison that causes agonizing death.

Grey Guards can throw blisters with deadly accuracy, even in the darkness.

Each Guard carried a sling and a supply of what the people of Del called “blisters.” The blisters were silver eggs filled with burning poison. They burst on contact with a target and the Guards could hurl them with deadly strength and accuracy, even in darkness. Lief had seen enough blister victims fall, writhing in agony, to know that he did not want to risk the same fate.

After Gellick was vanquished and the Shadow Lord was banished from Deltora, Grey Guards began using a new weapon called sparking rods. As their name suggests, these are used to electrocute enemies and prisoners.

It’s not going to go away!’ shouted a voice from the other side of the door. ‘Call the Perns!’
‘No! We can handle it on our own!’ another voice objected. ‘We have the new sparking rods, haven’t we? Now’s our chance to use them!’

Time to go, scum!’ jeered one of the Guards. He approached the cage and jabbed a heavy stick through the bars. There was a shower of sparks, and the companions heard Pi-Ban groan and fall heavily.
The Guards bellowed with laughter.

The Bak Clan use their Sparking Rods to knock Lief and his friends unconscious.

Emlis, suddenly exposed, rolled in an agony of terror and fell. He hit the ground and lay still. Lief, Barda and Jasmine struggled to rise, to draw their weapons, but they had no chance. The Guards recovered from their shock in an instant. The sparking rods thrashed down, down…
Lief saw Jasmine crumple and fall back, Kree with her. He saw Barda hit once, twice. Then he himself felt a fiery jolt on the back of his neck. Agony shot through him. Then all was darkness.

Sparking rods can leave burns.

Lief turned. Barda was behind him, looking over his head into the Arena. The big man’s eyes were deeply shadowed. A great red burn marked his brow where a sparking rod had struck him.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Vraal are lizard-like creatures created by the Shadow Lord for the sole purpose of fighting, both in war and for entertainment. They are the size of a human, but with far more muscles, and have deadly claws and long fangs. Instead of feet they posses hooves.

Lief’s blood ran cold as he grabbed for his sword. The Vraal’s snakelike scales, dull green striped with yellow, shone evilly in the weak forest light. It was as tall as Barda and twice as wide, with hulking, bowed shoulders, a lashing tail, and powerful arms that ended in claws like curved knives. But the most horrible thing about it was that it seemed to have no face — just a lumpy, scaly mass of flesh, with no eyes, nose, or mouth.
Then it roared. The mass seemed to split in half like an exploding fruit as its jaws gaped red. At the same moment its eyes became visible — burning orange slits glaring through protective ridges and folds. It leaped from the stream, landing on the bank in a single movement.
Now Lief could see that instead of feet it had cloven hoofs that dug deeply into the soft, damp earth. They seemed too delicate to support such a huge body, but as it roared again and sprang forward, Lief put this thought out of his mind.
The creature was a killing machine. That was clear as day. It took no notice of the thunder that rumbled above the trees. Its evil eyes were fixed on Prin.

Vraal do not fear pain or death, and exist only to fight and kill any creature that is not another vraal.

The Vraal did not fear pain, did not fear death. Its mind was not fitted for such thoughts, or indeed any thoughts but one — that any creatures not of its own species were enemies, to be fought and defeated. In the Shadow Arena or here — it did not matter.

Vraals are highly intelligent, but only in the arts of combat.

According to Ranesh, Sha-Ban, and others who have heard Grey Guards talking, Vraal live only to fight and destroy, and are highly intelligent in the ways of battle, though in nothing else.

A vraal which attacks Lief, Barda & Jasmine is described as moving like lightning.

Barda stood his ground. He knew that to turn, to step aside, to show any fear at all, would be fatal. Behind him, Lief and Jasmine glanced at each other. The creature moved like lightning. The remaining blisters, which were in Jasmine’s keeping, were useless while Barda stood between her and the enemy. The only hope was for her to creep to one side without being seen.

Without warning, the Vraal lashed out. Barda’s sword flew up in defense and the creature’s claws rang against the shining steel. Barda twisted and lunged, and this time the Vraal defended, hitting the flat of the sword with such a mighty thump that Barda staggered.

Dodging arrows is easy to a vraal.

It had missed using its skills. It had missed the joy of battle and the screams of defeated enemies. Snatching squealing, wriggling gnomes from the stream as they bent to drink was no sport. Dodging arrows was too easy. But this — this warmed its cold blood.

The Vraal is able to effortlessly beat back Lief & Barda's attacks.

Growling, it sprang at the two swords, beating them away effortlessly, driving the two weaklings who held them back, and back. Twice the weapons pierced its armoured skin. It cared nothing for that. It cared nothing for the black bird that dived at its head, snapping with sharp beak then wheeling to dive again.

Even the Grey Guards are nervous about Vraal (as a punishment for Grey Guards who fail in their duties are to end up as gladiators fighting Vraal themselves in the Shadow Arena).

Be careful, you fool!” roared Carn 8. “How many times do you have to be told? Any broken bones Brightly didn’t put in her report and we’re in the Arena ourselves! Do you want to end your days in gladiators’ leather, fighting a Vraal? Get him under the canopy, and be quick about it!”

Vraal think of Grey Guards as giving 'reasonable sport' (but taste bad).

Freedom to prey on the man-beasts who ate scuttling beetles, the ragged slaves who dug in the holes in the earth and the grey masters who tasted bad, but who gave reasonable sport before they sank screaming under claws and teeth.

A vraal's repeated attacks against a metal door causes it to bulge inwards.

Lief looked ahead. Jasmine was standing in front of a metal door in the Factory wall. She was holding it open. Barda and Emlis were
already hurrying inside.
With a roar the vraal sprang. Before it had hit the ground Lief was pounding towards the door. He reached it, shoved Jasmine inside, leaped after her and swung the door shut just as the vraal crashed against it.
The companions stood panting, their backs to the door, as the beast threw itself against the metal, hissing and roaring.

He realised that Jasmine was tugging at his arm. Whispering to him urgently. Something about hiding. About—
There was a mighty crash, and the metal of the door bulged inward as the vraal thudded against it once more.

‘The door’s bent. Something’s been trying to get in. A gang of Wild Ones, no doubt. Get a look, Bak 3.’
There was the sound of the metal door unlatching. Then there was a yell and a thundering crash as the door was slammed shut again.
‘Vraal!’ several voices shouted amid the shuddering thumps and bangs of the beast attacking the door again.

This Vrael then goes on to fight an entire pod of Grey Guards (who to be fair, are a week past their experation date), killing three and chasing a fourth into the wastelands.

‘Faith. How strange that you should mention that name,’ the gnome murmured at last. ‘I heard it for the first time only a short time ago, when Guards brought me up here. They were Baks, and in worse tempers than usual. Three of their pod had just been slaughtered by a vraal, which was pursuing a fourth into the desert. They had been ordered to abandon him in order to escort me. I told them I was pleased to hear it. That earned me a bruise or two.’

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Grippers are a kind of deadly carnivorous plant that grow in Jalis Territory. They first appear as any normal weed, but when stepped on will reveal a terrifying toothy maw. The grippers will inject a venom which causes the blood to flow freely. If no one comes to the rescue, the gripper will then drag its prey underground to digest them.

A Gripper looks like a harmless weed, but ifyou step on it the leaves will instantly spring apart & your foot will plunge deep into the plant’s gaping central “throat.” The throat is lined with fangs that point downward, digging deep into the flesh as the Gripper’s victim
struggles to get free. The fangs also inject a fluid that makes blood flow very freely.
Pain & blood loss will normally cause a Gripper’s victim to lose consciousness in a very few minutes. lf no one comes to the rescue, the gripper will then slowly drag its victim into the ground for digestion.

Keeping together under the shelter of Lief’s cloak, the companions began scrambling forward. But almost at once Barda staggered, with a muffled cry of pain. At the same moment, Jasmine gasped and fell to her knees.
Lief whirled around, crouching to help them. But when he put down his left hand to brace himself, the ground gave way beneath it, and his hand was dragged down by something that bit and burned.
His hand had sunk into the center of one of the flat weeds. The center was widening, sucking at his arm, drawing it down ...
Wildly, Lief tore himself free. His hand was covered in blood. The center of the plant gaped like a huge, flabby-lipped mouth, flecked with red.
With horror, Lief looked down at the rows of vicious teeth lining the green throat that plunged deep into the earth.

Even if someone is saved by from a gripper, there is still a high chance of them dying from blood loss & infection. The only known treatment for a gripper bite is a gray paste called Gripper Salve. Such was almost the fate of Barda.

Victims of Gripper attack who are saved by companions still often die of blood loss & infection. The usual remedies for injury are of little use. The only way to treat Gripper bite is to smother the wounds with a gray paste the Jalis call “Gripper Salve.” You can buy it
throughout Diamond territory. All farmhouses keep a good supply. lt smells & looks vile, but is effective.

Grippers will not just passively pull down, but actively bite at their victims.

From a distance they look like any other weed, but when stepped or leaned upon, their leaves part to reveal a fang-lined central "throat” that traps animal and human limbs. When a foot or hand has plunged into a Gripper’s "throat,” it is injected with a fluid that causes blood to flow freely. The running blood excites the Gripper even further, making it bite and tear the flesh.

Although grippers are mostly noted to eat their prey slowly, at least one story tells of a gripper victim being devoured in seconds; one of the seven 'goblins' who came to Deltora thought the plant was edible, but ended up being sucked screaming into the gripper and swallowed whole in moments.

One day, at dawn, they saw a bright green field beside the road. Faint with hunger, the smaller of the two goblins staggered into the field.
He had hoped to eat of the flat, broad-leaved plants growing there. Instead, the plants ate him. The moment he touched one, jaws opened in its centre and his arm was swallowed whole. In seconds he was sucked, screaming, into the plant’s gaping throat, and was gone.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Pirran Pipe is a powerful artifact from the land of Pirra, the country that existed to the North of Deltora before it was cruelly transformed into the Shadowlands. The playing of the Pipe every day protected the lands from the forces of darkness.

Long, long ago, beyond the mountains, there was a green land called Pirra, where the breezes breathed magic. Jealous shadows lurked on Pirra’s borders, but the land was protected by a mysterious Pipe, which played notes of such beauty that no evil could take root within sound of its voice.

The Shadow Lord (when he was still a human) was weakened by the playing of the Pipe.

A man in a hooded cloak stepped forward. He was tall, but bent with weakness, as though the long day and night of music had been almost beyond his endurance. Each section of the crowd thought that he was one of its own, for he had spent time with all three, urging its members to hold firm.

With the Pipe divided as with its people, the Shadow Lord could then invade Pirra and corrupt it.

And so tired, so angry had the people become that they agreed. They gave Plume the mouthpiece of the Pipe, Auron the middle stem, and Keras
the end piece. Then, because they still had bad feelings for one another, the three groups went their separate ways, each group following its own favourite.
The hooded man rubbed his hands, well satisfied, and slipped away like a shadow before the rising of the sun.
The dawn broke with no sound of music and the long day passed in silence, for the three rival groups were far apart, and no one piece of the Pirran Pipe could play alone.
Shadows crept into Pirra. Trees withered in their shade, and flowers wilted. Little by little the shadows swallowed up the green fields, the pleasant villages, while every moment the dread power cloaked within them grew stronger.
Too late, the three groups realised their danger. Shadows now rolled dark between them. They could not reach one another to make the magic Pipe whole. And at last, seeing that their land was lost, they were forced to use the last of their magic to escape and save themselves.
So it was that the green land of Pirra became the Shadowlands. Its people, still blaming one another for their ancient loss, dwell to this day on three separate islands in a strange and secret sea.
And the Pirran Pipe, forever divided, is heard no more.

The Pirran Pipe is the only artifact which the Shadow Lord is afraid of within the Shadowlands.

She sighed as Lief’s face fell. ‘I fear you must accept that there is nothing that would do so, Lief. According to legend, the only thing the Shadow Lord ever feared in his own domain was the music of the Pirran Pipe.’

The Pirrans went into the Secret Seas below Pirra & Deltora, and each formed into a tribe around the potential piper they supported; the Plumes, the Aurons and the Keras (though they are known to those in the surface world as 'goblins'). Even with each just having one piece of the pipe, the pipe still grants the Pirans great powers (which they can use even if they don't posses the Pipe piece itself), which is bestowed onto the leader of each tribe, the Piper. For example, the Pirran tribes are able to control the amount of light that comes from the ceiling.

‘The Fear lives underground, so no doubt it hunts by touch, hearing, or even smell, rather than by sight,’ said Jasmine. ‘But we need to see. We need light.’
Lief glanced over his shoulder to the shore. Nols and Worron were still in argument. The crowd was hesitating, looking nervously towards the cave.
‘If Nols fails to convince the people to join her, there will be no light,’ he said. ‘We cannot depend upon it.’

Nols bowed. ‘Our debt to him, and to you, can never be repaid. We have little enough to give, but whatever we have is yours. Boats for your journey. Food. Light, as far as we are able to supply it...’ She paused, waiting.

The Piper can also use their magic to telekinetically freeze multiple people in place, but this comes at the expense of having light to see.

With a roar, Barda felled the goblins closest to him and swung around, intent on pushing his way towards Azan and the swords. Lief sprang to help him. But before he had taken two steps, there was a brilliant ash and he was frozen to the spot.
At the same moment, the cavern was plunged into darkness. Trembling and blind, his arms and legs refusing to obey his will, Lief stood helpless while confusion reigned around him. The air was lled with cries and moans.
Slowly, very slowly, a little light returned—the faintest red glow, like the promise of sunrise.
Lief began to make out shapes and movement. Barda was standing rigidly nearby, as motionless as Lief was himself. The goblins who had been knocked to the ground were struggling to their feet, with others helping them.
‘Bind the creatures, and make haste!’ ordered a new voice. ‘I cannot hold them for long and keep the light also.’

Worron waited for a moment, then raised his voice again. ‘I will now release the Longhairs so that we can have more light,’ he said. ‘Hold them firmly.’

Stop!’ Worron shouted in rage. He raised his hand. There was a ash, the light dimmed, and Clef was struck motionless.

The power of the Piper is bestowed by the people of the tribe, who can also take that power away.

‘Free him, Worron,’ she said quietly. ‘Or we will take back the power we gave you.’
Worron bared his teeth. ‘You cannot—’
‘We can,’ said Nols. ‘We can, and we will.’

And so it was that Nols’ final words came to their ears loud and clear. Words that hit Lief and Barda like thunderbolts.
‘I withdraw my trust in you, Worron,’ Nols cried. ‘You are not t to lead the Plumes. You are not t to be Piper.’

The Piper of each island declares when day & night is.

Strange, high, echoing calls began to drift through the window, lling the room, growing louder every moment.
Penn turned around. Her face was shadowed with weariness and something more. Despair, perhaps.
‘Dawn is being sung by the Piper,’ she said. ‘The time of sleep is over. Not that any of us have had our proper sleep, this night.’

The power of the Piper of Auron created great dome around the island of Auron, with an illusion of lost Pirra within. Those who opposed were stripped of their ability to cast magic and thrown out. Nothing could penetrate this dome (not even the giant monstrous arachs who dwelt around it).

How the Rafts Came to Be​

When the three Pirran tribes ed their ancient land after the coming of the Shadow Lord, they found refuge on islands in an underground sea. The Isle of Auron was well separated from the enemy islands of “Plume and Keras. It was large, had natural water, and was covered by fast- growing fungus trees from which boats and dwellings could be made. When t by the magic of the people, the cavern in which it lay shone with every colour of the rainbow.
Some Aurons found a strange, wild beauty in the island and the shining caverns. But most saw only ugliness, and at once began creating illusions of the lost beauties of Pirra. After a time, they went further. They wove a great spell, creating a dome which covered the island, containing the magic and making the illusion complete.
But there were those who did not agree with what had been done. These Aurons, our ancestors, wanted to live in a world that was real, however strange, rather than to exist in a dream created by their own minds.

And so our ancestors were stripped of their magic and cast out as traitors. Eeran, the Piper of those days, swore that if they went in peace, so blood would not he spilled inside the dome, the caverns would always be lled with light. And our ancestors believed him, and left without a murmur.
They made rafts of driftwood lashed together with ropes of dried weed. They built mud houses, learned to live the life of the shining sea which was their home and were happy.
For many years, Eeran’s promise was kept. But then, not long after the coming of Doran, the bringer of fire, the light began, very slowly, to dim. Now, centuries later, our realm is as you see it.
The dome-dwellers continue to expel all things that threaten their idea of Beauty, including their dead. Thus they feed the creatures which breed around the dome. And those creatures are hunted by the Arach, those monsters of nightmare which once hid deep in caves, away from the light, hut now nest in the warmth and dimness of the dome sea.
The dome is protected fry the magic of the Aurons within it, and the stem of the Pirran Tipe. We, who are without magic, cannot penetrate it. Many have tried and died in the attempt.
We must all prepare for a time when the light is gone altogether. We must learn to find our way in dark water, and to know by touch the warning lines which must never he crossed. We must continue to save every scrap of wood, to mend the rafts cleverly, and to hate waste.
Then we will survive.

When Lief lands on the edge of the dome with the mouthpiece of the Pirran pipe, he along with his friends are transported to the middle of the island.

He was aware of nothing but sound. Sweet, pure music poured through him, possessed him. It was blind instinct that made him reach for Jasmine’s hand, clutch at Barda’s shoulder, as he began to slip through the haze, and the magic of the Pirran Pipe drew him in.

‘No wonder we are here, in the centre of the island instead of at the edge as we expected,’ Barda muttered.
‘The mouthpiece of the Pipe pulled us to where it wanted us to be.’

When the Pirran Pipe is complete, it transforms and becomes bigger and seems to glow, becoming more than the sum of its parts.

Stunned by the sudden silence, Lief stared at the magical object in his hands. It was shining with a subtle radiance, as though lit from within. Here, at last, was the Pirran Pipe—whole and perfect for the first time since the warring tribes of Pirra divided it and stilled its voice. And complete, it was transformed.
‘But, it has changed!’ Jasmine breathed in awe. ‘It glows! And surely it is bigger than it should be.’
It was true. The endpiece of the Pipe had been the smallest part of all, and should have added very little. But now, complete, the Pipe seemed far larger and stronger, far more strange, more beautiful, more thrilling than it had before. It was as though it was greater than the sum of its parts.

When Tirral plays the completed Pirran Pipe, the music is heard all throughout the Secret Seas, and even beyond to the sleeping golden dragon.

And so, for the first time since the world began, the pure notes of the Pirran Pipe rang out in the caverns of the secret sea, while the people of Keras listened, their rapt, upturned faces wet with tears.
The music caressed the rippling waters, echoed from the gleaming rock, echoing, echoing until the air itself seemed to quiver with its beauty and no walls could contain it.
It flowed into the Forbidden Way, where the leeches heard it, and cringed in the darkness. It sang in the opal sea, where the great eels raised their dripping heads from the water and swayed to the sound.
The Aurons building on their island looked up from their work, transfixed, as the sound drifted to their ears. Their Piper’s ancient face did not change, but his body trembled all over, as if shaken by an icy gale. And Penn, packing manuscripts in her little hut on the rafts, clasped her hands in joy and wonder.
The song of the Pipe echoed through the rainbow caverns where the mud grubs burrowed deep to escape it, and the sea moles leaped and played. It filled the Glimmer with its beauty and flowed on to the ruby sea, and Plume.
Nols, tending the grave of the warrior Glock, gave a cry when she heard it. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the shore where awed, silent people were wading knee-deep, waist-deep, into the scarlet water, gazing towards the sound.
The music floated on, faint and haunting, till it reached the furthest corner of the golden sea, where Clef and Azan, fishing in their tiny boat, dropped their nets and sat spellbound. Then the last, tiny shadow of sound rose high above their heads, through the topaz haze.
And carried by the cool, soft breeze, it stole into the golden dragon’s enchanted sleep, bringing with it soaring dreams of sunshine, great winds and high mountains, magic and vanished glory.

When the Pirran Pipe is played in the Shadowlands by Lief, he is able to temporarily push back the Shadow Lord, but with each play of the Pipe he gets weaker.

Then he had the Pipe to his lips. He blew. One pure, clear note.
The piercing sound rose and echoed around the walls of the Arena, and on to the mountains beyond.
And with the sound, the stream of worms halted. The worms thrashed, twisting and dying like leeches of the Forbidden Way exposed to the light.
The red smoke recoiled in a clap of thunder that shook the ground. The gale died, and the Ak-Baba lurched in the skies. The Ols lowered their grasping hands and stood, swaying. The beings on the tiers of seats bent and groaned. The vraals howled in their cages.

Again Lief had to draw breath. Again the red smoke writhed and lunged. Again it drew back as the Pipe sounded once more.
But the Enemy was gaining strength. Each time the Pipe repelled him, he drew back a little less. The seven Ak-Baba hovered around him, their unearthly cries mingling with the thunder. Within the smoke’s core, malicious eyes were gleaming.
How long could the Pipe hold the shadows back?

Emlis, who has had experience playing the songs of the Pipe, is able to push back the red smoke of the Shadowlord, and his song is heard back in the Secret Seas underground.

Then Emlis was beside Lief, taking the Pipe from Lief’s hand. Emlis was playing. And for the first time in countless centuries, the land that had once been Pirra heard the true song of the Pirran Pipe.
For as Ak-Baba shrieked and the red smoke shrank back into the boiling sky, as the Ols crouched, moaning, and the prisoners listened in awe, Emlis played like the Pipers of old. Emlis played on the Pirran Pipe the music of his own heart.
The exquisite sound filled the Arena, echoed from the mountains, rang on the the Factory walls and rolled on over the parched plain. In it was mourning for ancient beauties lost, anger at evil that seeks only to rule and destroy, fear for what might be. And then, a deep longing for home.
Not Pirra, despoiled, transformed and gone forever. But the only home Emlis knew.
A home where deep waters rippled and soft sands drifted on peaceful shores. A place where the light was soft and cool, and the gentle, lapping sound of water filled the air. A place missed, and ached for.
Lief stood, transfixed. His heart seemed to be breaking as the music rose, pleading for rescue, crying for release.
Then…the Arena disappeared.
Cold, freezing cold. Rushing darkness…
And the next instant Lief was struggling in black, icy water, the panicking cries of thousands ringing in his ears.
What had happened? What new sorcery was this?
‘Jasmine!’ he screamed.
‘Here!’ Barda bobbed up beside him, supporting Jasmine and PiBan. Lief took Jasmine from him, held her head above the water, felt
the rush of Kree’s wings.
‘My music!’ Emlis swam like an eel towards them. ‘My people heard it! They brought us home! The Shadow Lord will never know
what became of us!’

Penn nodded. ‘We on Auron heard the Pipe. Its song made us remember that once our people were one. We set out to see for ourselves, at last, the others of our kind, and to find out what had happened to you. At the Forbidden Way we met the Plumes, who had travelled north for the same reason. They did not seem as savage as we had feared. And so together we called to the Kerons, bidding them to light the tunnel, and allow us entry to their territory.’
‘And Tirral agreed?’ asked Barda disbelievingly.
Penn smiled. ‘After a time,’ she said placidly. ‘It seems that, like us, she and her people had been giving thought to the wisdom of keeping up old rivalries in times of trouble. We learned that her son had gone with you to the Shadowlands. Then, together, we all waited for the sound that would tell us that he, and you—and the Pipe—were ready to return. Together, at last, we heard it, and together we brought you back.’

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Fear is a sea monster that lives in the tunnel between the seas of the Plumes and the Aurons, in a place called the Glimmer. It's tentacles are compared to the trunks of vast trees, and it's tentacles fill up the entire cavern. It's main body is attached to the wall itself, and compared to 'a bloated mountain' that overflows from an ancient shell.

The Fear was not on one side of the cage or the other. It was not above them, or below them.
It was everywhere.
Gigantic tentacles like the twisting trunks of vast trees filled the cavern from wall to wall, from floor to roof. The cage suddenly seemed tiny—dwarfed by the great mottled coils that wound above and around it.
At the end of every tentacle wriggled bundles of slimy white threads tipped with vicious hooks. Some of these were already sliding delicately through the bars of the cage. Others were slithering like worms over the dripping cavern walls as the tentacles from which they grew writhed into position.
And on the far wall of the cavern, visible only in glimpses as the tentacles moved, was the heart of the horror. A bloated mountain of slimy, billowing flesh hulked there, overflowing from a shell so ancient, so thick and crusted, that it seemed part of the rock itself.

The Fears shell has merged with the rock of the cavern itself; said shell rising halfway to the cavern roof.

Now he could clearly see what lay behind the huge mass of tentacles. He could see the cruel, tearing beak He could even see the small, pale eyes staring vacantly ahead. He could see the shapeless body and the vast, stone-like shell which rose halfway to the cavern roof, dull blue, ridged with the growth of centuries.
The shell had become part of the cavern wall. The Fear could not move. But it did not need to. Its mighty arms were more than long enough to reach every corner of its domain. No prey could escape it.

Even though immobile and lodged to the cavern wall, the Fear sends big waves to flood the island of the Plumes, demanding sacrifices. If the Plumes refuse to feed the Fear, it will create waves so big that it will flood the entire island and destroy their village.

‘The Fear is in a cavern called The Glimmer not far from here,’ Jasmine murmured. ‘Every year it demands a living sacrifice. If the people delay, it beats the water and creates great waves that flood the island and destroy the village. They do not dare to defy it.’

As Clef and Azan ran to do his bidding, a harsh, grating call sounded over the water. It was low and full of menace. Foam-flecked waves began to surge from the cave. Water splashed against the wall and ooded through the open panel into the cage and beyond.
‘You see?’ Worron hissed to Clef. ‘Your deance and your grandmother’s foolishness will be our death!’

For centuries, The Fear had been left unchallenged. It had been unseen, even by its victims. It had been known only by its terrible cries, and the waves with which it ooded the land.
And in the darkness, it had grown.

The final warning waves are described as being huge, towering over a row boat big enough to fit at least four people.

The rasping sound came again, there was a distant thundering crash and suddenly, shockingly, the nose of the boat rose sharply then dipped again. Lief gasped as cold water slopped over the sides and poured over him. Barda stirred and groaned.
The goblins glanced at them but did not stop paddling for a second. The boat rose and fell sickeningly once more. And now Lief could see great waves of red water heaving around them,
clearly visible over the sides of the boat and becoming larger every moment.
It was as though they were caught in a storm, yet there was no wind. There was only that menacing rasping noise and the dull thundering that was growing louder, and which Lief now recognised as the sound of waves crashing on land.
Land!
He tried to sit up, but fell back again immediately as the boat rose over yet another wave, and slid down the other side. Wallowing in cold, foaming water he struggled to get up again.
‘Be still!’ cried one of the goblins angrily.
He and his companion were almost knee-deep in swirling water, but still they were paddling with the same fierce concentration as before. Huge red waves were towering over the boat on all sides now, but the goblins looked only ahead, their long noses twitching, their pale eyes staring short- sightedly.
And then, quite suddenly, came a sound and a feeling that made Lief shout with relief. The bottom of the boat was scraping on land.

The waves of the Fear uprooted fungus trees (which are described as being huge) and flooded the Plume village.

Bruised, shaken and shivering, Lief and Barda crawled to their knees. The goblins were pulling the boat onto muddy land that rose out of the swirling water. Other boats were nearby, tied to what at first seemed strangely-shaped trees, but which Lief soon realised were huge, branching scarlet fungus.
Dazed, Lief looked around him, trying to take in what he was seeing. Hills of red and brown fungus trees, a few nearest the water broken or uprooted by the force of the waves. Orderly fields where rows of some sort of crop showed above streaming water. And beyond the mud of the shore, a village. Waves had crashed over the low wall that surrounded it, and the streets were flooded.

The flood damaged houses and caused doors to burst open and personal items to float down the street.

They entered the village and began splashing through empty, flooded streets lined with dwellings.
The houses were all dark red or brown. Many had been damaged by the storm. In other cases, doors had simply burst open, allowing water to stream into the rooms beyond. Brightly painted bowls and pots, small pieces of furniture, even bedding and clothes, drifted in the flood.

A sword strike from Glock against one of the Fears tentacles causes the sword to break.

Lief became aware that Glock had crawled to his feet, and was lumbering towards the nearest coiled tentacle, his sword raised high above his head.
‘Glock! No—’ roared Barda.
But he was too late. With a savage shout, Glock brought the sword down with all his strength. The mighty blade struck the tentacle with the sound of an axe on stone—and snapped in two.
[/QUOTE
Jasmine tries to stab the Fear in the eye (with her full strength), but it rolls it's eye back protectively and she fails to hurt it (the only ways to hurt the Fear is to stab the inside of it's throat or the white tips of it's tentacles).

Half sliding, half crawling, Jasmine moved on until she was just behind the beast’s eyes. Deliberately she raised her dagger. Lief stood, paralysed, helpless, unable to do anything but watch.
His heart leaped as Jasmine thrust the dagger down with all her strength, burying it to its hilt between the creature’s eyes. But then, with a thrill of terror, he saw those pale, vacant eyes roll back and fix on Jasmine’s face. He saw Jasmine stare, unbelieving, as the dagger sprang back in her hand, rejected by the rubbery flesh it was supposed to pierce.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Arachs are giant spider monsters that came from an unknown cavern system connected with the Secret Seas.

The dome-dwellers continue to expel all things that threaten their idea of Beauty, including their dead. Thus they feed the creatures which breed around the dome. And those creatures are hunted by the Arach, those monsters of nightmare which once hid deep in caves, away from the light, hut now nest in the warmth and dimness of the dome sea.

Lief believes he (and Barda & Jasmine) are no more capable of fighting the arach than they are the Sand Beasts or the Glus.

‘We cannot ght them, Barda,’ Lief muttered. ‘Any more than we could ght the Sand Beasts in the Shifting Sands, or the Glus in the Maze of the Beast. We would not last a moment!’

Arachs are huge, and described as moving with terrifying speed.

Two huge shadows, two vast, lumpy bodies each swaying on eight thin, jointed legs, rose dark against the glow of the dome. Red eyes gleamed as the beasts sprang forward and began running towards the boat, running with terrifying speed over the surface of the water.

An arach picks up a wooden boat, and another grabs it and tears it in half; the arach are described as being vast and deformed, with their bloated bodies looking like they're plated in armour.

The Arach had halted at the edge of the seaweed band. One of them had seized the boat. It was lifting it high into the air, crushing it like paper. The other was fighting for a share, tugging at the frail craft, scrabbling inside it, looking for prey.
Lief stared, dumbfounded. The Arach were like vast, deformed spiders. Their bloated bodies were covered by glossy black shell, as though plated with armour. Their long, thin legs looked like wires of steel, prickling with spurs and spikes. Their armoured heads seemed nothing but greedy red eyes and dripping fangs.
With a dull, angry roar, the second Arach jerked violently, tearing the boat in half. Provisions, buckets, the lantern, and two small objects that Lief realised were the cages of the fighting spiders, sailed high into the air, scattering and falling with dull splashes.

The arachs are many in number, and they will detect any intrusion to their territory via a touch to their webs.

‘You cannot reach the dome!’ cried Penn. ‘You saw the Arachs! And there are many more! Their webs net the waters of their territory. The moment you enter it, the moment you touch a web, they will sense you.’

Arachs are described as dwarving the fungus trees, which are already described as being towering.

With a low growl, the Arach forced itself fully through the gap in the dome. It rose on its back legs, huge, dwarving the towering clumps of fungus that dotted the horizon.

These fungus clumps are described as being as tall and as thick as ancient trees.

Everything was bathed in a weird half-light. The hills on the horizon had disappeared. Great branching clumps of fungus, tall and thick as ancient trees, hunched where trees once stood. Tiny ferns and mosses covered the clay and clustered along the banks of a deep and silent stream.

The invading Arachs are said to loom on the horizon.

Five Arach now loomed on the horizon. And more were coming. The first arrivals had begun moving forward. Their massive bodies swaying on their long, spiny legs, they were feeling their way, moving awkwardly on the unfamiliar, solid ground.

An arach tears Auris to pieces. The arach are described as dripping venom.

The creature was gigantic. Monstrous. Its eyes bulged from its glossy black shell, gleaming red. Its fangs slowly opened and closed, dripping venom.
Its two front legs reached out delicately, took Auris in their grip, and tugged. Auris’s hands tightened on the glass. He did not stir.
‘No!’ Lief whispered in agony. He tensed himself to rise.
Barda’s hand clamped firmly on his wrist. ‘Be still! We cannot help him! There is still a chance we can get you out, Lief. You, at least.’
‘That is not important any more,’ Lief hissed back. ‘All that matters is—’
But at that moment, the Arach lost patience. With a low growl, it tore Auris away from the statue, and lifted him high into the air.
Auris’s shriek of terror and despair chilled Lief to the bone. Cold sweat broke out on his brow, and he began shivering violently. He wanted to cover his ears, but his hands were rigid. He wanted to look away, but he could not move.
The beast rose on its hind legs and pulled its victim closer. Auris screamed and screamed again, writhing in an agony of fear. The monster’s red eyes watched him closely, almost as if it was enjoying his terror. Then suddenly its fangs lunged forward and sank into his neck, mercifully ending his struggles.
The spiny, clawed legs instantly began tearing the limp body apart, shredding it exactly as they had shredded the boat.
The other Arach closed in, scrabbling for a share of the prize, ghting over every dripping scrap of f;esh that fell from their leader’s jaws.
Sickened, Lief at last managed to look away.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Flying leeches are a species of leech which live in the Forbidden Way in the Secret Seas, between Auron and Keron.

Lief felt a tickling on his hand. He looked down and saw a winged, slug-like creature squirming there. He shook his hand, but the creature did not fall away. With a start, he realised that it was biting him—burrowing its head into his flesh.
And it was growing. Its body was swelling as he watched. Filling with his blood.
‘Leeches!’ he shouted, shaking his hand again, filled with disgust.

The leeches swarm in great clouds, swarming in 'thousands upon thousands.'

Lief looked, and his stomach heaved. The air high above them was teeming with flying leeches, streaming in thick, whirring clouds down from the darkness.
Wildly he waved the torch above his head. Dozens of slimy, winged bodies sizzled in the flames. But still many of the leeches swerved around the fiery barrier to settle on his hands and arms, to feed and swell.
And these were only the forerunners. Thousands upon thousands were following, spiralling downward.

Lief, Barda & Jasmine are only able to avoid the leeches for the most part thanks to Liefs cloak, but even then, they slip around through the gaps.

The loaded cloak began pulling away from the boat’s edge. Panicstricken, Lief heaved at the fabric, trying to tug it back into place. Butalready leeches were pouring through the tiny gap, fastening onto hishands, slithering into his sleeve.
The cloak bulged and slipped again. The gap at the side of the boatopened further. Leeches poured through in a whirring mass.

Some of these leeches can grow to the size of sausages.

Lief’s arms and hands were trembling with the effort of holding the cloak in place. The leeches that had been clinging to him before he
took shelter, and the few which had found a way to creep under the cloak since then, were hanging like bloated sausages from his wrists and the backs of his hands. He gritted his teeth, forcing down the wild, urgent need to pluck them off.

There are millions of leeches in the Forbidden Way.

When Lief came to himself, the voice of the Pipe had faded and a great weight was pressing down on him. He pushed violently, and at last struggled into dazzling emerald light. Then Barda and Jasmine stirred beside him. As they sat up, the boat tilted under the shifting weight of millions of dead leeches.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Wild Ones are a result of the cruel and twisted experiments of the Shadow Lord, which transformed the hapless subjects (former inhabitants of Deltora) into beast-like monsters. Claw is partially transformed, and has talons for hands, which he says give him great strength.

He saw Lief’s eyes widen, saw Jasmine and Emlis glance swiftly at his talons. He smiled without humour.
‘You are surprised,’ he remarked. ‘Did you think I was some strange oddity from a land far away? Oh, no, my friends. I am a citizen of Del—or was, before Deltora forgot me. I lived and worked at the pottery. Perhaps you know it?’
He waited, and receiving no response, went on. ‘When I came here with my family, the Enemy made some—improvements—to my appearance. The Enemy enjoys such… experiments.’
He stretched out his talons and flexed them thoughtfully. ‘These are strong, and serve me well,’ he said. ‘I escaped the Factory before the Enemy had quite finished with me. I am one of the lucky ones. Others are not so fortunate. Your small companion in the hood has already met some of them on the Dead Plain, I think, when they used him as Scuttler bait. We call them the Wild Ones.’
He smiled grimly.
Lief heard Emlis whimper softly, felt Barda tense, and Jasmine’s hand seek his own. Sick with horror, he stared at Claw, forcing himself to face the terrible truth. The savage creatures who had stolen Emlis—those hideous half-beast, half-human beings who prowled the arid plain—were his own people. Maddened, hopeless victims of the Shadow Lord’s evil.

A description of a group of Wild Ones.

Shapes were rising out of the crater—ragged, shambling shapes with bared teeth and glowing eyes. Clawed hands reached for them. Low growls and piercing howls rose in a terrifying chorus of baffled anger.
Half carrying, half dragging Emlis, Lief turned and stumbled back towards the hills, beetles scattering before him. Barda and Jasmine
backed after him, their weapons held in front of them to fend off the ghastly creatures crawling in ever greater numbers from the crater.
The creatures were like humans—yet hideously changed. Some were covered in hair, with fangs and tusks protruding from their gaping mouths. Some had shrunken limbs, long tails and scaly skin.
Others had humped backs covered in gleaming shell, twisted, insectlike legs and spiny fins for arms. Roaring and howling, they began to spread out, encircling the fleeing companions like a pack of animals closing in on prey.

A group of Wild Ones harm a stinger.

Growling shrieks sounded above them, and the next moment savage figures were throwing themselves blindly, heedlessly, over the
edge of the outcrop. Screams of triumph became shrieks of terror as the attackers realised their mistake too late. Twisting and howling they thudded down on the billowing body of the beast, puncturing its skin with claws and tusks, rolling to fall sprawling onto the clay.
Dragging Emlis with them, the companions began edging along the outcrop, towards the open plain. They began slowly and carefully,
never taking their eyes from the beast. But it was no longer interested in them. Swelling and spinning, clear fluid bubbling from the gashes in its skin, it was striking out at the new intruders, at the attackers who had dared to injure it.

A group of Grey Guards see a bent metal door and believe a group of Wild Ones did it (a Vraal actually did it, but the fact that it's believed that a group of Wild Ones could plausibly do it is worth noting).

‘The door’s bent. Something’s been trying to get in. A gang of Wild Ones, no doubt. Get a look, Bak 3.’

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Stingers are creatures that dwell in the border mountains between Deltora and the Shadowlands, as well as in the Shadowlands themselves. They are believed to have crawled up out of the seas into the rivers & caves of Deltora (and likely also Pirra).

Some monsters invaded the land to seek prey, swimming up rivers, lurking in caves or crawling onto rocks and sandy shores. These beasts, too, were named by the people who feared them. Some of the names were Kobb, Kreel, Stinger, Bubbler, Blood Creeper and Death Spinner or Glus.

Stingers can grow as big as houses deep in the mountains away from the hunting dragons.

Stingers
The dome-shaped bodies of these beasts look amazingly like the bodies of the stinging jellyfish l have seen in the waters around Broome. Stingers, however, breathe air, have visible eyes & are monstrous. The largest l have seen was the size of a typical kitchen table, but the people of Shadowgate tell me that deep within the Mountains, where dragons do not hunt, Stingers can grow as big as houses.

This is no hyperbole, as Lief, Barda, Jasmine & Emlis meet a massive Stinger with dozens of it's young. The tongues of these monsters very narrowly miss hitting the heroes.

Not far ahead of them was another outcrop, higher than the one they had just climbed. And from its shadow, something was emerging—something huge and dome-shaped that gleamed with the same dull sheen as the rocks. Its vast body rippled and bulged horribly as it moved, as though the thick, smooth skin clothed flesh that was nothing more than quivering jelly.
As it crawled further into the light, Lief gave a strangled gasp. He heard Filli squealing in terror, and Kree screeching, heard Barda’s muttered curse. Ringing the beast’s body like the swollen beads of a hideous necklace were dozens of heads, each one with glassy, staring eyes and a lipless mouth from which hung a long, thin, dripping tongue.

The young of this Stinger tear away from their wounded parent (each being as tall as a person, and four times wider), and devour the Wild Ones who attacked them.

Lief looked back, and his stomach seemed to turn over. The beast’s body—its torn, rippling body—was coming apart! The heads around its sides were tearing themselves away from the billowing mass, dragging great chunks of flesh with them.
Staring wild-eyed, Lief heard Barda give a choking cry, and Jasmine gasp in understanding. Then, suddenly, he, too, saw the truth. The extra heads ringing the monster’s body did not belong to the monster at all. They belonged to its young—smaller versions of itself which the beast carried in pouches around its vast body.
The young were crawling away from their injured parent now, leaving gaping cavities behind them. Each one was as tall as a man, and four times as broad. Each was eager to drag in the prey it had captured with its curling tongue, and to feast.

Stingers catch their prety with their tongues with deadly speed.

Stingers have hundreds of tiny legs that are almost hidden beneath the skirts of skin that hang f bulbous bodies. They capture their victims as frogs capture flies, their long tongues flicking from their mouths with deadly speed.

Swords have little effect against Stingers.

Sword cuts will do little more than enrage an attacking Stinger. If you are trapped, fire is your best defense. But the best thing to do on seeing a Stinger, even in the distance, is to take to your heels & run for your life.

A Stinger as depicted in Secrets of Deltora (the young stingers are as tall as a person).

Spoiler

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Tora is Del's sister city in the West.

Tora! Del’s great sister city in the west. He had been taught of it. But it was so long since he had heard its name that he had forgotten it existed!

Tora is said to have been carved out of a marble mountain long ago, and is also noted to have thousands of surfaces within (such as surfaces of buildings); the only flaw to Tora is it's great stone, which broke when the people of Tora broke their promise to the King of Deltora.

“It is Tora,” Dain whispered. “Tora.”
Lief narrowed his eyes against the dazzling glare, and finally made out the gleaming shapes of towers, turrets, and walls. In his amazement he thought at first that the buildings themselves were shining, glowing from within by some sort of magic. Then he realized that the shimmer was caused by the rays of the early morning sun striking thousands of hard white surfaces, polished smooth.
He looked away, rubbing his streaming eyes. It was impossible to see the city clearly. And yet, he had seen enough to feel puzzled, as well as filled with awe, at its silent, untouched beauty.
“Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain,” said Dain. “It is perfect — all of one piece, without crack or seam.”

The scale of Tora as depicted in Tales of Deltora.

Spoiler

Evil cannot enter Tora, and even years after the people of Tora were exiled for breaking their vow, the forces of the Shadow Lord & pillagers haven't even touched the city.

Lief frowned. “That is what Doom said. But — I am starting to wonder if he was telling the truth. I cannot see the city clearly, but there seem to be no Grey Guards at the gate. No mark of the Shadow Lord on the walls. No damage or destruction or rubbish lying about. And it is so peaceful, Barda. Have you ever known a place overrun by Guards to be so?”
Barda hesitated. Then he rubbed his hand across his dry mouth. “Is it possible?” he whispered. “Can it be that the Torans’ magic has been strong enough to repel even the Shadow Lord’s evil? If so, Lief ... if so ...”

The entrance tunnel into Tora drains away all evil.

“Tora is protected by magic,” Lief said rapidly. “Magic that works on hearts and minds. The tunnel drains away all evil. If we return there, nothing can harm us.”

There are at the very least thousands of residents of Tora.

Lief stepped forward. “We have learned, since seeing you last, that it is not wise to trust appearances, Doom,” he said in a level voice. “Before Dain decides what he wishes to do we would like you, and Neridah, too, to go into Tora.”
Doom’s dark eyes turned on him. And now there was no warmth or humor in them.
“You need not stay more than a moment,” Lief went on, refusing to be cowed. “The Tora tunnel discovers evil far more quickly than your Testing Room.”

Tora's protection is so great that the food left out 16 years ago is still left as edible as the day it was prepared, and none of the precious items in the city have been stolen.

He and his companions paced on. Halls and houses, towers and palaces, rose, shining, on either side of them. Through tall windows and open doors, rich hangings, silken rugs, and fine furniture could be seen. Everywhere flowers in window boxes bloomed, bright and humming with bees. Fruit trees thrived in huge pots, clustered around courtyards where tables of food and drink stood ready and fountains splashed.
But no one sat by the fountains, tended the trees, or ate the food. No one walked along the streets, or peered from the windows of the houses. No one stood on the silken rugs, or rested in the fine chairs. The city was utterly deserted.
“It is like Where Waters Meet,” whispered Jasmine.
“No,” Barda said grimly. “Where Waters Meet was in ruins. But here — why, it looks as though the people left it only five minutes ago.”
He looked over his shoulder. “How powerful is the Torans’ magic?” he muttered. “Could it be that they have made themselves invisible? And where is Dain?”

“If the city is empty, why is it still so perfect and whole, Lief?” Barda asked suddenly. “Why have looters and scavengers not destroyed it? The pirates, the bandits ... what has stopped them from plundering this place at their will?”
He pointed at the box. “Even that is a work of art. It would be of great value to a trader. No doubt the city is full of such things. Yet no one has stolen them. Why?”
He spoke softly, but still the square seemed to echo with his voice.
Lief felt a chill run up his spine. “You think Tora is — protected?” he whispered.

Dain, a Grade Three Ol, is almost killed by being in Tora (although at the time the companions mistake this for Dain being in mourning for the people of Tora).

Dain did not raise his head, though he must have heard them come.
Jasmine had wrapped a blanket around him, but still he trembled.
“He will not move,” whispered Jasmine fearfully. “He cannot stop
shaking, and will not take any water. I am very afraid for him.” Dain’s pale lips opened. “Take me away from here, I beg you,” he
mumbled. “I cannot bear it. Please — take me away.”

“You did,” Lief said. “You should not have entered Tora. That was your vanity — and it was nearly your death, was it not?”
For the first time, Dain’s eyes flickered, and dread brushed his face. But he did not answer.

The people of Tora can use powerful magic for a variety of purposes. They are capable of repelling someone with magic from entering their city, and can detect whenever a stranger enters their lands. They unite together to banish certain individuals from their land, such as they did with Malverlain (the man who would later go on to become the Shadow Lord).

The people slept on as the boat splintered in the waves. They slept on as its sail was torn to rags by the wind. They slept on as the rain ceased and the moon sailed out from behind the clouds.
But when a drenched, cloaked figure crawled out of the sea and sprawled half dead upon the shore, a shiver ran through the white city, and the people woke. The storm had passed, but a shadow had fallen on their land, and they knew it was far more dangerous than any storm.
As one they rose from their beds and moved to the centre of the city where the great amethyst lay on its table of stone. They stood together — every man, woman, and child. And their minds met.
Far away, on the shore, the sodden figure groaned and flinched. Rage mingled with fear and shock as he felt the banishing spell take hold of him, felt his limbs begin to tremble, and felt his heart go cold. Someone wanted him gone. Someone was daring to defy his will.
He was a mighty sorcerer, but he had been sadly weakened. The banishing spell was strong. He knew that he could not resist it for long. He refused to be driven back to the sea, which had stolen his magic staff and almost taken his life. He closed his eyes, summoned all that remained of his strength, and took himself from the place of torment, took himself north, instinctively knowing which way to go.

This banishing spell is used again when Adin first travels to Tora to collect all the Gems for the first time.

But no sooner had he crossed the border than he felt cold pain in his heart and mind. The Torans, enclosed in their white marble city, had felt a stranger’s presence and were repelling him with magic.
Adin set his teeth against the pain, pressed his hand to the great diamond for strength, and moved on along the banks of the River Tor.

The Torans compel Adin to continue walking out of their territory against his will.

The pain was growing stronger. Soon it was so strong that he could hardly breathe, hardly put one foot before the other. Then he saw the city of Tora ahead. The city stood whole, perfect, and untouched by strife. But when he tried to turn aside from his path to enter it, he could not.
He was unable to stop, unable even to pause, beside Tora’s perfect, gleaming beauty. The power streaming from within the city repelled him as surely as it had repelled the Enemy. The power seized his legs and swept him on along the river, as helpless as dust before a broom — raging, but helpless to resist.
Soon the magic city was far behind him, and the mountains of the north were large on the horizon. Adin felt the pain leave him and knew he had crossed the Toran border into the territory of the Dread Gnomes.

Later on when Adin had gathered all Gems but the Amethyst (the Gem of Tora), he feels not a banishing, but instead himself being drawn to Tora.

As he urged Wing, his great white horse, towards the magic city, he waited for the pain of a Toran banishing spell to pierce his mind. He braced himself for the battle of wills that he knew must come.
But no pain came. Instead, as he drew closer to the vast, gleaming marble walls of Tora, he felt a strange tug in his mind, as if someone — or something — was calling him on.

Toran magic can control the weather, covering the valley that was formerly the Valley of the Lost in clouds so as to fool the Shadow Lord into thinking it was still under the sway of the Guardian.

“If only we knew where to look!” Barda moved restlessly. “We cannot remain here any longer, waiting for a sign. At any moment —” He looked up, and his brow creased in a sudden frown. Lief, too, looked up, and was startled to see that where only moments before there had been clear blue, a swirling mist was gathering. The birds were wheeling, screeching ...
Sharply, Jasmine called Kree, who broke away from the flock and came hurtling down towards her. At the same moment, Lief saw Fardeep approaching. Two Torans were with him: Peel, a tall, bearded man, and Zeean, a straight-backed old woman in a scarlet robe.
“Do not fear!” Fardeep called. “The Torans are weaving a veil of cloud to shroud the valley once more. The Shadow Lord must not discover that we are free.”
“But what of the creatures?” Jasmine exclaimed.
“Our mist will not harm them, little one,” smiled Zeean. “It is soft and sweet. Now that our magic has returned, we can do many things.”

Toran magic can use their magic to increase someones speed.

‘Jasmine! Barda was looking for you,’ Sharn called, hastening towards her. ‘Now he has gone to his rest, for he rode all night. And Lief and Doom said to say goodbye. They have just left for Tora.’
Seeing Jasmine’s frown, and misunderstanding it, Sharn smiled kindly. ‘They will be quite safe, Jasmine. Toran magic will speed their journey. They may have arrived even now. They will be back in a day or two.’

This would allow someone to travel from Tora to Del in under an hour (Del and Tora being on different sides of the country).

Spoiler

He needed Doom urgently, and was filled with relief at the thought that Toran magic was speeding him to Del.

The Torans have the ability to fly (or at the very least glide) great distances.

And then, suddenly, he was standing on empty ground. He could not understand it. It was as if he had been sucked out of the fighting throng, while the throng had been abruptly thrust back.
Stunned, he looked over his shoulder. The battle was going on without him. Even the fighters at the very edge of the struggle did not seem to be aware of his presence, though they were so near that he could have stretched out his hand and touched them.
Or could he? For some reason, the struggling figures looked hazy, like figures seen through a mist, and the roar of battle was dimmed.
He turned his head again, to face the west. The sun was shining in his eyes. But he could see a mass of bright, fluttering colours sweeping towards him. It was as if dozens of giant butterflies were flying straight for him, skimming over the flat ground as the grey cloud of the Shadow Lord had done not long ago.
But this time, Adin felt no dread. Instead, into his mind came a feeling he well remembered — a yearning feeling of welcome. Was he losing his wits? He fumbled for the belt around his waist and gripped the topaz. His mind cleared and his vision sharpened as the great gem warmed beneath his fingers.
And he saw people of Tora, their arms linked, their hair streaming behind them, their robes fluttering like wings, as magic sped them to his side. Their faces filled with grief and horror, the Torans were staring at the tumult on the plain: the Ak-Baba savaging the weakening opal dragon and the evil grey-and-scarlet cloud brooding over all.

The further a Toran is from Tora, however, the weaker their magic is.

Adin tore his eyes away from hers, and looked at Lenore. “Thank the heavens you have come!” he cried. “Our people are dying. The Enemy is about to triumph. Make haste! Use your magic to—“
“We will do what we can,” Lenore said through stiff lips. “But we have not prepared for what... what we see and feel here. Our magic is centred in Tora. The farther away from it we are, the weaker our power becomes. And I fear that the evil in this place is... almost too much for us to bear.“

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Dreaming Spring is a spring of magical waters. Those who drink the water of the Dreaming Spring will have either one of two things happen, depending on if they are good or evil.

Drink, gentle stranger, and welcome. All of evil will beware.

If they are of evil will, drinking the water of the Dreaming Spring will turn them into a tree.

For the Guards were screaming. They were staggering, stopping. Their feet were sprouting roots that snaked into the earth, tying them in place. Their legs were drawing together, hardening into a solid trunk. Their bodies, arms, and necks were stretching towards the sky, and pale leaves were forcing their way through skin that was becoming smooth bark.
And in moments, two trees stood in their places. Two new trees for the grove — as silent, still, and perfect as all the others.

This is the fate which awaited the great evil toad Gellick, gem guardian of the Emerald.

The monster was above him, its great head bending low, its mouth open in a leer of triumph. But already Lief had pulled the water bottle free, and unscrewed its cap. And before the toad could jeer again, he was hurling the bottle, overflowing with water from the Dreaming Spring, straight into the grinning, open mouth, to the back of the throat.
He struggled to his knees as Gellick gulped. The giant toad hissed.
“YOU —” it choked. Then it jerked violently and its eyes rolled back in its head. It tried to move, but already its feet were fixed to the treasure hill by thick, snaking roots. It screamed. It screamed as its swollen body pulsed and changed. It screamed as its vast, spiny neck began to stretch.
Then there were some long, terrifying moments when Lief wanted to turn away, but could not. Moments when he heard Jasmine and Barda beside him, but could do no more than clasp their hands. Moments when the whole cavern seemed to flash and darken, when he thought that the monstrous, writhing thing before him would never cease its struggles.
Then all was still, and where Gellick had crouched there was a vast tree with a straight, tall trunk and three branches bearing clusters of pale-colored leaves. The tree’s topmost branches brushed the soaring roof of the treasure cavern. And as Lief looked up, something fell from its tip, straight into his hand.
It was the emerald. Dull no longer, but deep, sparkling green.

These trees that were once those of evil will do not speak as regular trees of Deltora do (to those who can speak to trees, as Jasmine does).

“Jasmine, what do the trees say?” muttered Barda. Once Barda had doubted Jasmine’s ability to talk to growing things, but this time had long passed.
Jasmine frowned. “They do not say anything,” she said, looking around. “They are completely silent. I do not understand it.”

If someone of good will drinks the waters of the Dreaming Spring however, they instead will be able to see other people & places in their dreams by travelling there in spirit. For this to work, one must think of them as they drink (but at the same time, they also have to have met them before, either in real life or in a previous Dreaming Spring dream).

The old Kin looked at her. “Do you not understand? It was real,” he said. He waved a paw at the spring. “This is the Dreaming Spring. Whatever or whoever you picture in your mind when you drink, you visit in spirit when you sleep.”

The Dreaming Spring water can be used to spy on the forces of evil, as Lief does to discover more about Fallow (who he had yet to even meet, and only saw in a previous Dreaming Spring dream).

“Then we will give him facts!” Jasmine snapped. “Lief must use the last of the water from the Dreaming Spring.”
Lief nodded slowly. They had been saving the water for when they really needed it, but surely that time had arrived. If he visited his imprisoned father again, the evil Fallow might come to the cell. Then Lief could learn how much the Shadow Lord knew. But what if Fallow did not come?
Lief’s heart sank as he saw what must be done. He could not risk visiting his father or mother. Instead, he must use the magic water to spy on Fallow himself.

The Shadow Lord is able to detect when someone is nearby even in spirit after they have drunk the Dreaming Spring water.

“Is someone with you, slave?” the voice hissed suddenly.
Startled, Fallow whirled around and scanned the room. His dull eyes passed over Lief, standing motionless behind him, without a flicker.
“No, Master,” he whispered. “How could there be? As you ordered, no one enters this room but me.”
“I felt ... something.” The darkness in the center of the whirling shadows grew larger, like the pupil of a giant eye widening.
Lief stood still as a stone, trying to keep his mind blank, holding his breath. The Shadow Lord could sense him. That evil mind was probing the room, trying to find him. He could feel its malice.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Four Sisters are evil entities created by the Shadow Lord to slowly poison the lands of Deltora, bringing famines and droughts. Each of the Four Sisters spread their evil song across an entire region of Deltora, North, South, East & West, bringing desolation to those areas individually.

Sisters four with poisoned breath
Bring to the land a long, slow death.
But death comes swiftly if you dare
To find each sister’s hidden lair.
Their songs like secret rivers flow
To hold the peril deep below ...
And if at last their voices cease
The land will find a final peace.

The poisonous song of the Sisters poisons the very land itself.

Its black, forked tongue flickered out, tasting the air. ‘The land is not well. I feel an evil presence, poison leaking into the earth from some dark centre. Who has done this, while I slept?’

Only they knew that the journey the companions would begin at dawn was to end in Shadowgate. There the Sister of the North lay hidden, spreading its poison and singing its song of death and despair.

The Sisters radiate poison, evil, horror & despair; the radiating presence of a Sister makes it hard to even stand in ones presence.

Lief tried to stand, and found he could not. The sinister song of the Sister of the East filled his ears and his mind. Its evil power battered him, beat him to the ground.
He could not stand. He could not walk. But the dragon lay rigid, fading as he watched. And the Sister of the East sang on, spreading its terror and its poison.
Lief began to crawl, being careful not to touch the dragon’s body as he passed it.
His breath coming in sobbing gasps, he pushed himself towards the poisonous yellow thing that radiated horror and despair, knowing only that the thing must be destroyed—that if it could not be destroyed, all was lost.

There on the carved rock, revealed at last, was a rippling, jelly- like thing, creamy white and veined with pink and grey.
Malice streamed from its shapeless form, and its song was poison, hatred, doom and despair.
The Sister of the West.

The evil song of the Sisters when heard up close can fill someone with despair and strip them of the will to go on, and even slowly kill them with their mere presence.

There was only one snake left in the pit. And it was no snake at all. Pale and bloated, striped with thin lines of poisonous yellow, the thing thrashed mindlessly on the stinking, seeping rock.
It had no eyes. It had no tongue. It had no fangs. But evil radiated from it like heat. And from its empty, gaping mouth poured the deadly song of the Sister of the North, filling Lief’s ears and his mind, forcing him to his knees.
He told himself he had to move. He had to raise his sword. He had to try to smash the thing. Destroy it. But its evil was killing him. Its song of despair and death was ringing in his ears, drowning out all other sound. With a dull clang, his sword fell from his hand.
His fingers would not move. His hands felt as if they did not belong to him. Gritting his teeth, he lifted them. They felt like heavy lumps of dough attached to his arms. Clumsily he pressed them against the Belt of Deltora.

He and the dragon were at the bottom of the great pit the dragon had dug to expose the underground wall of the cavern. Above them, crowded around the edges of the pit were hundreds of people in red masks.
Many were palace guards, but many were not. People had come running from the city, full of courage, determined to defend the palace against the dragon. But now they were on their knees, moaning and sobbing, their hands pressed to their ears. The evil power of the Sister had beaten them down.

After a Sister is destroyed, the natural order is restored, and the lands once again become fertile.

King Lief, with his companions, Jasmine and Barda, had been in Broome for ten full days. That was a joy in itself. But there was something even better. During their stay, like a miracle, the barren land and the empty sea had come alive.
The fishing boats had begun hauling in fat fish. The hunters were bringing home meat almost every day. The crops were at last showing strong, new shoots.
Suddenly the long time of hunger was over. There was new life everywhere. It was even said that a scarlet dragon had been sighted in the sea above Dragon’s Nest!
The people of Broome did not know how or why this wonder had occurred. They simply rejoiced. And their rejoicing was at its height on this, the last night of their young king’s visit.
Part of a spinning circle of dancers in the centre of the hall, Lief looked as carefree as all the rest. But, in truth, his mind was on other things.
Only he, Barda, Jasmine and their friend Lindal knew that the land was healing because the evil thing called the Sister of the East had been destroyed.

The difference can be noticed even within 24 hours.

The magic strengthened, and they began to move faster. Crisp, salty wind beat against their faces. They exclaimed and pointed at the sea birds swooping over the waves close to shore, feasting on the tiny sh that swarmed just below the sparkling surface.
Only twenty-four hours had passed since the destruction of the Sister of the West, but already the land and sea were coming to life.

Each Sister is protected by a guardian, who gains their power from the Sisters themselves; these guardians were once regular people, but had a darkness in them that was exploited by the Shadow Lord (which almost happaned to Lief too)..

He laid his ngers on the topaz, felt its golden warmth.
This was what he had forgotten...this. The dangerous, beautiful thing in the pit had almost snared him. It had almost drawn him in, with its dizzying promises of power, glory and freedom from the pain of loss.
And for the first time he saw fully the dark power which had enthralled his enemies, those others who had embraced the cause of the Shadow Lord. He almost understood them...Rolf the Capricon. Kirsten of Shadowgate. Laughing Jack. And the unknown enemy here, in Del.

‘I have not felt it as you have,’ Lief answered. ‘But I have felt the evil force that promises to ll the emptiness with riches and power in return for service to its will. And I know that other choices can be made. You know it too, Doom.’

‘So now we know why the Sister of the South was so easily destroyed,’ Jasmine said quietly. ‘With the other three Sisters gone, and the Bone Point Light restored, the Shadow Lord’s game of starving us was all but over. He was impatient to spring his trap. He withdrew the last Sister’s power, and abandoned Paff to fight on alone.’

Kirsten, the guardian of the Sister of the North, was seemingly able to summon a storm.

The sky grew darker as the companions began to thread through the maze of rocks and clis that lay beyond the village. Soon the light was so dim that they were almost feeling their way. Jasmine called Kree back to her shoulder. They lit torches, and moved on.
The clouds seemed to be pressing down upon them. Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled ominously.
‘This storm is not natural,’ Jasmine breathed.

Kirsten uses her magic to sustain an entire castle; when she dies and the Sister of the North is destroyed, it dissolves into dust.

The castle of the Masked One had vanished.
‘It was an enchantment,’ Jasmine whispered, putting her arms around him. ‘The spell was broken. We awoke—here.’
‘And the castle was dust,’ said Barda. ‘Nothing but dust, blowing in the wind.’ He leaned forward. ‘Lief, surely this means—?’
Dizzy with joy, yet still hardly daring to believe it, Lief nodded. ‘The Sister of the North is no more,’ he said huskily. ‘And I think Kirsten died at the same moment. It was because—the emerald dragon returned. It—’
‘We saw it,’ Barda said grimly. ‘It dropped you onto the ground with us, then flew away. Perhaps we will see it again. But I would be more than happy not to. It had a stern, fierce eye.’
‘It is the dragon of honour,’ Lief muttered. ‘It came to clean its land of evil, as was its duty. But I fear it is still angry, because we brought another dragon to its place.’
‘It can be as angry as it wishes,’ Jasmine grinned. ‘It did its part, that is all that counts. It did its part, and you did yours, Lief! The Sister is gone. All Kirsten’s sorcery is undone. And we are not the only ones to rejoice. Look!’
She pointed. Lief turned his head.
The castle of the Masked One had vanished.
Where its towers and turrets had risen to the sky, lay a great sheet of smooth, at rock powdered with fine dust. Two figures stood in the centre of the rock, hand in hand. One was Bede. The other was a slender young woman with long, light brown hair.
‘When the spell was broken, Mariette was freed, just as we were,’ said Jasmine. ‘The dust cleared, and she was standing there. She had been enchanted—imprisoned in her own locket, which Kirsten had taken for herself. But you must have known that, Lief, or why did you take the locket at all?’

The only known method powerful enough destroy a Sister is for it to be burnt by a dragon empowered by the Belt of Deltora.

Only when the power of a dragon joins with the power of the gems in the Belt of Deltora, can the Sisters be destroyed.

However, even should all Four Sisters be destroyed, then another final and terrible threat to Deltora would rise; the Four Sisters kept the Grey Tide under Hira with their evil songs, making it so that if they weren't destroyed then Deltora would die, but if they were destroyed then Deltora would die.

It has been the Enemy’s pleasure to make us choose unknowingly which way the land would die,’ he muttered. ‘If we failed in our quest, the land would die slowly. If we succeeded, death would come swiftly. Either way, the Shadow Lord would win.’

But the Sisters’ song lines flowed through the earth no longer. And like the beast in the tale, like the clown in Barda’s puzzle box, the Shadow Lord’s revenge was rising from its long darkness, for now there was nothing to hold it down.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Grey Tide was the final weapon of the Shadow Lord, unleashed only if all of the Four Sisters were destroyed. When all of the Four Sisters were destroyed, and their song no longer keeping it below, the Grey Tide would rise from below the city of Hira (the City Rats) to cover Deltora in a magical grey goo scenario.

Sisters four with poisoned breath
Bring to the land a long, slow death.
But death comes swiftly if you dare
To find each sister’s hidden lair.
Their songs like secret rivers flow
To hold the peril deep below ...
And if at last their voices cease
The land will find a final peace.

But the Sisters’ song lines flowed through the earth no longer. And like the beast in the tale, like the clown in Barda’s puzzle box, the Shadow Lord’s revenge was rising from its long darkness, for now there was nothing to hold it down.

The Grey Tide when it rises takes the form of a gargantuan bubble, which when rising easily pushes aside the damage ruins of buildings.

Beyond the gleam of the water, something huge was rising—a vast, rounded thing like a hideous reflection of the golden moon.
‘By the heavens, what is it?’ Barda shouted hoarsely.
The dragon growled, deep in its throat. It flew faster, faster. Now the sweeping bend of the river was directly ahead of them. And they could see, enclosed within the bend, the gigantic, poisonous yellow bubble pushing upward through the ruins of the City of the Rats, pushing the damaged buildings aside as if they were children’s building bricks. A few rats were scattering from the ruins, squeaking shrilly as they ran.

The bubble grows to so big that it covers the entire ruined city and rises as high as the palace of Del before breaking; the great bubble splits open, and the toxic ooze within spills out, spreading in all directions.

The bubble had swelled even more. Its hideous bulk now completely covered the ruined city and rose as high as the palace in Del.
Lief stared at it in horried fascination. At the bottom it was the same poisonous yellow as it had been before. But at the top it was paler—paler, tighter and shinier. As if...as if...
With a ghastly tearing sound the top of the bubble split open. A fountain of vile, dull grey liquid, thick as heavy cream, gushed up into the air.
Lief heard the dragons roar. He heard Barda and Jasmine crying out in revulsion beside him. And he heard something else, he was sure of it—the sound of distant, wicked laughter.
The spouting liquid began owing to the ground, spreading outward in a thick grey flood.

The City of Hira (in its heyday) as depicted in Tales of Deltora.

Spoiler

The Grey Tide is alive, and it grows by feeding on the earth, the air and any victims it engulfs, being able to poison with a mere touch.

A red-eyed rat, more daring than the others, darted at the grey liquid, perhaps hoping it was something good to eat. The moment the liquid touched it, the rat stiffened and fell, its legs jerking convulsively.
The companions watched, horrified, as the grey liquid covered the rat’s twitching body and owed on, moving very fast. The remaining rats shrieked and ran away from it, scattering outward across the plain.
‘It is poisonous,’ hissed Barda.
‘And it is alive,’ Lief muttered. ‘It is alive—and growing.’
He knew it was true. The thick, grey fluid was making more of itself, and more, feeding on the earth and the air.

If a part of the Grey Tide is destroyed, the Grey Tide will continue to creep onwards (unless the destroying power is applied perpetually and the Grey Tide in its entirety is destroyed).

There was a blaze of re as the opal dragon swooped, roaring at the spreading circle of grey. Multi-coloured flame seared a great patch at the edge of the flood. The patch stiffened and hardened. The grey mass of liquid on either side of it closed in and flowed on, covering the burned place swiftly, as the rat had been covered.

The opal dragon was wheeling over the grey sea, blasting it with rainbow re. But the grey was still increasing, and every moment it seemed to be moving faster.

The Grey Tide would continue on smothering everything in its path, bringing death to all of Deltora indiscriminately as all life is wiped out, turning the entire nation into a barren plain, eventually hardening into rock so that the Shadowlord's forces can walk in and the Shadow Lord can finally claim Deltora.

Grey, barren land. The skeletons of trees. A grey river, sluggish water thick as mud, with huge grey fish lying dead on the wrinkled surface...Monstrous creatures shrieking in the sky...[/I]
Not the Shadowlands, but Deltora. He knew that now.
This was a monster they could not fight. The grey tide would continue to spread. It would swallow rivers, forests and plains. It would cover towns and villages and farms. It would fill the valleys and smooth out the hills.
Nothing in its path would be spared. Death would come equally to the ferocious Sand Beasts and to the gentle Kin, to the esh-eating Grippers and to the wondrous Lilies of Life.
Some of the grey would age and set hard, turning rivers to sludge, encasing houses, beasts, crops, trees and people alike in a shell of stone. The rest would move on.
The people who could outrun it would be driven to the coast, to fight over boats or mill helplessly at the water’s edge like the rats on the river bank. Or they would climb mountains and wait, freezing on the peaks, as the grey climbed, climbed ...
And at last, Deltora, all its variety and strangeness lost forever, would be one great, cold, grey plain.
This was what the Shadow Lord’s malice and desire for vengeance had decreed must be, if the king who had been foretold did arise, restore the Belt of Deltora and rid the land of tyranny.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Deltora is home to dragons, each making their home in one of the seven territories. Dragons are highly intelligent and can speak (either out loud or telepathically to the one who wears the Belt of Deltora). In fact, dragons used to be so plentiful that in ancient days before the Belt of Deltora was made and all Gems placed in it by Adin, the country was known as the Land of Dragons.

In ancient times, Deltora was known as The Land of Dragons. In my opinion it is a pity that the name was ever changed. The old name was a continual reminder of how closely the dragons are linked to the land they guard & protect.

The tales gathered in this book paint a rich picture of Deltora, the ancient Land of Dragons. But they do far more than that. Taken together, they tell a secret history. They show how a fateful chain of events on a small, mysterious island called Dorne led to the rise of the evil sorcerer known as the Shadow Lord, and peril for the seven tribes of the Land of Dragons, far to Dorne’s west. They trace the sorcerer’s growing power. And they tell the blacksmith’s dream that caused the forging of a magic Belt, the tribes’ only hope of defeating a tyrant.

The dragons draw their power from the special Gemstone of their territory.

And each tribe jealously guarded its talisman, the gem of power that had been the land’s gift after the time of trial. Each tribe thought itself especially rich and favoured, for it did not know the other talismans existed.
The dragons knew, but each dragon drew strength only from the gem of its own territory, and cared nothing for the rest. And the land knew, but it could not speak for those who would not hear. So again it waited, biding its time.

‘You wear the Belt of the ancients,’ the dragon said. ‘The great topaz shines for you. I feel its power flowing into me, like new blood in my veins. You are the king who was promised.’

The Dragons of Deltora can not only draw upon the power of their Gem, but give power to the Gem of their territory.

Lief looked down at the Belt—at the great topaz gleaming with strange new depth and life. The golden dragon had added to its power. And the topaz had added to the dragon’s power. He was certain that it would be the same with the ruby—if they could find the ruby dragon.

There used to be thousands of dragons in the Land of Dragons, and so many that on the day when the Land of Dragons merged with Pirra, they all took to the air and blocked out the Sun (as they sensed the coming calamity).

The dragons knew it was time. In a great, glittering rush, they took to the air. They rose from every corner of the island, from the rocks and dunes of the west and east, from the sandy shores of the south, the forests, plains and hills of the centre and the cliffs of the north. There were thousands of them—thousands upon thousands. There were so many that their great, leathery wings, glimmering with all the colours of the rainbow, blocked out the sun.

A dragon's breath can turn water to steam.

For the beasts of the sea were fearful. They writhed and fought without ceasing. They were savage, and always hungry. Only the dragons did not fear them. Only the dragons dared to fish far from shore, changing the churning water to steam with their fiery breath.

An Emerald dragon's breath causes rocks to sizzle.

The green dragon’s eyes narrowed. “Dragons are servants to no man, sorcerer,” it hissed. “We are the servants of the land. And the land has no use for you. Begone!”
It breathed fire, and the rocks sizzled. The sorcerer felt the heat sear his flesh, and his robes began to smoke. He removed himself from the dragon’s sight, retreating deep into the mountains.

In order to uncover the Sister of the East, the Ruby Dragon (Joyeu) digs a pit, uncovering many thousands of stones (abet over an unknown time period).

Its wings still spread, it plunged into the hollow called Dragon’s Nest. With its mighty claws it began to rake away the stones in the centre, scooping them out by the hundreds, by the thousands, flinging them up and away.

Stones pelted the companions like giant hail. Covering their heads with their arms, they stumbled away from the edge of the Nest.
From a safe distance they stood and watched in awe as stones showered from the hollow to pile in great drifts around its rim. But gradually their excitement died, and a feeling of foreboding took its place.
As the dragon dug deeper into the pit, as the heaps of stones grew larger, the air was becoming thicker and harder to breathe. The light was dimming. And a strange, low ringing sound was growing louder.
Giant waves pounded on the shore, now sometimes foaming over the tops of the tall rocks and streaming down like a waterfall to run in rivulets between the stones.

The Topaz Dragon (Fidelis) also digs out a hole so as to reach below the underground chapel to the Sister of the South's hiding place, and causes the ground to shake just by landing; it also speaks directly into Lief's mind.

There was a roar like a clap of thunder, and a shuddering thud. The outside wall of the chapel shook.
Gla-Thon cried out in terror.
A soft voice whispered in Lief’s mind, hissing through the song of the Sister of the South.
I am with you, king of Deltora. We are separated only by a little earth and stone, and that will soon be gone.
The dragon of the topaz, Lief thought, almost in surprise. It is there, in the palace garden, on the other side of the wall.

Fidelis claws out the dirt and it's fires sears the stone of the palace wall, causing the mortar between the stones to crack before removing them.

And his heart leaped as he heard the sound of massive talons raking the earth, as he heard the roar of flame searing stone walls exposed to the air for the first time in centuries.
The mortar between the stones at the base of the chapel wall began to crack. Then there was a scrabbling sound, and the stones themselves began to move.

Fidelis's flames cause the stones around the chapel to start heating up.

He watched the hole in the roof intently, waiting for a black stream to begin pouring to the ground. Behind him, through the agonising ringing in his ears, he could hear the dragon’s roars, very near. And he could feel—he was sure he could feel—heat radiating from the stones at his back.
The dragon has uncovered the wall, he thought. It is breathing fire onto the stones. Soon the mortar between the stones will crumble, as it did in the chapel. The stones will loosen and the dragon will be able to rake them away. If only it can reach me before the guardian does! If only ...

The pit that Fidelis digs is big enough to fit Fidelis inside it.

He and the dragon were at the bottom of the great pit the dragon had dug to expose the underground wall of the cavern. Above them, crowded around the edges of the pit were hundreds of people in red masks.

The damage done by Fidelis to the foundation wall risked much (if not all) of the palace of Del collapsing (although supports were put in place in time to prevent this).

‘Manus says that the hole in that foundation wall means that the palace is no longer properly supported,’ Barda said. ‘All or part of it will collapse if something is not done quickly

The Emerald Dragon (Honora) tears the roof of one of the towers of Kirsten's enchanted castle.

Lief’s heart was thudding like a drum in his chest. His fingers were hot, burning hot. He tilted his head a little more. He looked higher. Up to the high, dim roof of the tower.
Then, suddenly, astoundingly, there was an ear-splitting crack— and the roof was gone.
Suddenly there was nothing above him but boiling clouds... and a vast, gleaming shape plunging towards him, green as the emerald glowing beneath his hands, roaring like thunder.
The emerald dragon!

This tower is made of stone.

The passage began climbing steeply upward. Stairs carved into hard rock wound around and around in a dizzying spiral. The walls were raw, rough stone, slimy to the touch. Plainly they were climbing up through one of the castle’s towers.

Fidelis (the Topaz Dragon) doesn't consider hundreds of soldiers armed with swords & clubs to be any threat.

Hundreds of people and soldiers are running up the hill—enemies with clubs and swords. I will kill them all.
No! Lief thought back frantically. They are not enemies. Our enemy is within. Dig deeper. I am here, but the evil is below.

Lapis Lazuli dragons, including Fortuna, eat Sand Beasts (with it being possible that the same Lapis Lazuli dragon is met by both Adin & Doran, as the dragon in question doesn't like eating the heads of the Sand Beasts).

‘Excellent!’ the dragon exclaimed, inspecting its claws one by one. ‘Before we leave, I will snatch a hasty meal in the Shifting Sands. It is not far, as the dragon flies, and no doubt Sand Beasts still thrive there. Ah, I well remember how they crunch between the teeth. Delightful!’

Adin staggered to his feet. Sand was falling around him like rain, falling quickly as if it was being sucked back to the ground. He blinked in terror at the vast, glittering shape before him.
It was a dragon. It was not golden, like the dragons of Del, but midnight blue, spangled with points of light, like the night sky. It was feeding peacefully on the Sand Beast, crunching on a spiny leg with relish.
It saw Adin watching it and licked a spine from its lips. “Good day, small man,” it said lazily. “What good fortune that you happened to be here today! You tempted my snack out of hiding very nicely, and saved me a tedious wait on high.“

A wild idea came to Adin.”Do you not eat the beast’s head, dragon?” he blurted out.
“Never,” the dragon said with its mouth full. “Some of my tribe do, I know, but all those eyes are not to my taste. I prefer the legs — so deliciously crunchy!“
Adin wet his lips. “Then — may I have the head myself?” he asked.
“Oh, certainly,” replied the dragon with a careless flick of one enormous talon. “Will you eat it here, or take it away?“
“1 will take it, if you please,” said Adin.
“That is good,” the dragon said.“I confess, I prefer to eat alone.“

As I sit here now I see slight movement in a dune, above the place where a particularly large lizard is catching flies. Just a faint trickle of sand, but...yes!
In a great spray of sand, a Sand Beast springs from inside the dune.
It captures the lizard in its pincers.
The lizard flights for its life, doubling itself to sting.
Sand pouring from its spiny joints, the beast calmly tears its prey in half and begins to eat.
And from the sky, hurtling through the shimmering heat haze like a shooting star, plummets a midnight blue dragon, silver points flashing, talons outstretched...

I did not leave the Shifting Sands till the sun was low
in the sky. l wished to talk to the dragon of the Lapis Lazuli but knew l should not hail her until she had finished her Sand Beast meal. This is a politeness expected by dragons, who do not enjoy talking while they eat. So I sat quietly sketching as the dragon crunched spiny limbs with relish.
Closer to me, Dune Flies were making a meal of the Sand Beast's severed head, which the dragon had tossed aside. Earlier I had seen Dune Flies being eaten by Scorpion Lizards, and a Scorpion Lizard being eaten by a Sand Beast. And now I was watching part of a Sand Beast being eaten by Dune Flies.

Sand Beasts chitin is said to be as hard as rock.

The Sand Beast was monstrous. It was a thing of terror. No weapon could dent the rock-hard shell that enclosed it. No sword, however skilfully wielded, could sweep that wicked, many-eyed head from its armoured body.

A depiction of a Topaz dragon as seen in Tales of Deltora.

Spoiler

Joyea (the Ruby Dragon) flies Lief, Barda & Jasmine across Ruby territory, covering in hours what would have taken weeks to travel overland.

Lief found his voice. ‘Thank you for carrying us,’ he said. ‘You have saved us weeks of travelling.’

Lapis Lazuli dragons (including Fortuna) are compared to shooting stars (with Fortuna also having learned how to read maps).

And from the sky, hurtling through the shimmering heat haze like a shooting star, plummets a midnight blue dragon, silver points flashing, talons outstretched...

And so, for the second time, Lief, Barda and Jasmine flew with a dragon. But this time was very different from the first.
It was not just that this time they were flying with a dragon who sang merrily as it flew. Or that this dragon seemed to glide through the air like a shooting star, with barely a beat of its wings.
It was not just that this dragon knew exactly where it was going because, unlike the dragon of the ruby, it prided itself on having learned about maps from the man it called Dragonfriend.

Fidelis flies faster than Steven's horse Mellow, who in turn can run as fast as the wind when having drunk Queen Bee Cider (though it is possible that Fidelis is being empowered by the full Moon as well); Fidelis once again speaks directly into Lief's mind.

Steven nodded shortly. His fists were clenched. His golden eyes were flickering brown. ‘Our mother’s orchard lies at the edge of the Plain of the Rats,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Mellow will fly like the wind to defend it.’
I will be faster, king of Deltora. And a full moon is rising.
The voice of the topaz dragon filled Lief’s mind. The topaz grew hot beneath his hands. He felt Barda and Jasmine, close beside him. He turned to Doom.

Mellow is fast enough to leave Kree (a raven) far behind.

‘Where is Kree?’ Jasmine asked, looking around in sudden alarm.
‘Far behind, I fear,’ Steven whispered. ‘He could not keep up with us.’
Mellow snickered, as if with satisfaction, and tore o another leaf.

He scowled as he remembered waking in the caravan, with no idea where he was or what was happening. Kree had just arrived, and was screeching angrily at Steven’s horse. Filli was chattering in his ear. His companions were nowhere to be seen. He had gone in search of them, but by the time he reached the waterfall, all the excitement was over.

Fidelis flies faster than the wind.

The dragon flew faster than the wind, its golden scales glittering in the light of the huge, rising moon. The land slipped by beneath it. The first small lights were showing in villages and towns where people sat by their resides, bathed their children or prepared their frugal meals, in ignorance of what was happening beyond the safety of their walls.

The seven dragons of Deltora destroy the Grey Tide by breathing fire at it until it is completely burnt away (although this is implied to take a while). It's also noted that the dragons burnt most of the Grey Tide and defeated most of the Ak-Baba before Steven's caravan arrives.

dragon as it ew to take its place in the circle of dragons surrounding the grey sea. They watched in wonder as the dragons dropped lower, lower and hovered.
Then, without a word or signal, the dragons roared.
Flame gushed from their jaws. Flame of green, gold and scarlet. Flame of purple and silver-white. Blue flame fllled with stars, and flame that burned with all the colours of the rainbow.
... the Enemy fears dragons, it seems. Even two are too many for him ...
And what of six? Lief thought. Then he changed the number to seven, for he saw the baby diamond dragon gravely hovering beside Veritas, adding her own small, silver-white flame to the re.
The edges of the grey tide scorched and blackened, and when the circle was bounded by a broad black band, the dragons began moving slowly, patiently inward. Whenever they breathed, they breathed fire, and wherever the fire fell, the grey burned and died. And no dragon moved on while any patch of grey remained.
On and on the dragons moved, their circle tightening, as the great moon rose and paled and stars filled the blackness of the sky.
Gradually the grey inside the circle grew less, and the black band outside it grew broader. By the time Steven’s caravan pulled to a halt on the bank of the clogged River Broad, the people who tumbled out to stare in wonder could see more black than grey.
And at last the dragons were so close together that the tips of their wings were touching. Together they roared, and the colours of their res mingled in a rainbow blaze. And when that last, great fire had died, nothing remained of the Shadow Lord’s terror but a vast circle of blackened ash.

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Although it has no name, I've seen this creature called the Beast, and calling it the Beast is very fitting indeed. The Beast is a massive monster which lived below the island of the Four Sisters (not the Shadow Lord's vile creations, but the original Four Sisters). The Four Sisters sang their beautiful songs to each other for centuries so as to keep the Beast asleep below the island. However, when an evil sorcerer (who would one day become the Shadow Lord) arrives on the island and silences all four sisters, he discovers his mistake, as the Beast awakens and rises to destroy the island. It crushes the animals, tears up the trees, poisons the spring and shatters the very mountains themselves. It cracked the very foundations of the island itself, causing it to sink, and Malverlain only just escapes.

Long ago, on a beautiful island set in a silver sea, there lived four sisters whose voices were as sweet as their hearts were pure. Their names were Flora, Viva, Aqua, and Terra, and they had lived on the island so long that they had forgotten the number of the years.
The sisters loved to sing together, and their voices flowed over the island like soft, warm breezes by night and by day. Now and then a ship passed by, but to most of the sailors the sisters’ song was like whispering leaves, lapping water, drifting sand, and the soft, secret rustling of small animals in the grass. The few who claimed to hear sweet voices were mocked by their fellows. But they knew what they had heard, and they never forgot it until their dying day.
It so happened that a sorcerer came to that island, searching for a place to call his own. He heard the singing and hated it, as he hated all things good and beautiful, for although he was still young in his years, he was old in his wickedness.
He seized the four sisters and imprisoned each on a separate corner of the island. But the sisters still sang to one another from afar, and their song continued to bathe the island in peace and beauty by night and by day.
Maddened with rage, the sorcerer drew his cloak of shadows around him and took up his magic staff. He stormed to each of the island’s corners in turn and struck the sisters down, one by one.
First Flora’s voice ceased. Then Viva’s. Then Aqua’s. For a time Terra sang on alone. But when her voice, too, was stopped, the island went silent. And only then did the sorcerer realise what he had done. For in the very centre of the island, hidden deep within the earth, was a vile and hideous beast. Soothed by the singing of the four sisters, the beast had slept for centuries.
Now it awoke, in all its fury.
It rose, roaring, from its bed beneath the earth. It tore down the trees, crushed the small beasts, fouled the spring, and smashed the mountains. It cracked the very rock on which the island rested, and the island began to sink.
In terror the sorcerer leaped into the silver sea. He conjured up a boat with a grey sail marked with red, and sailed away into the east to find new lands to conquer.
The waves closed over the island, and it has never been seen by human eyes from that day to this. A few of the sailors who pass that way still claim to hear sweet voices singing beneath the water. They are mocked by their fellows, who hear only the sound of wind and waves. But the few know what they heard, and they never forget it, until their dying day.

Lief reflects on how when the Shadow Lord was still human, he suffered a bitter defeat.

Long ago, perhaps, he had been a merely a sorcerer, with a cloak of shadows and a boat with a grey sail marked in red. He had felt fear, suffered a bitter defeat, and sailed east across a silver sea to find new lands to conquer.

A depiction of the Beast as seen in Tales of Deltora, towering over hills & mountains, shattering the land and uprooting the forests as Malverlain flees in terror.

Spoiler

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

Eldannen (otherwise known as Dann) was a powerful belevolant sorcerer who founded the city of Weld and created the three doors. He was the brother of Annoltis and Malverlain (the latter of whom would later go on to become the Shadow Lord), and was equal in strength to his brothers (or at least when Malverlain was still human).

Never had he thought that all his great power would not be enough to resist his brothers when they stood together, for the youngest was as strong in magic as the oldest, and together they were invincible.

Dann was debatebly the most powerful of the three brothers (again, prior to Malverlain becoming the Shadow Lord).

All he had to do was accept one astonishing fact, and everything else fell into place. And he did accept it. Why not? Eldannen, brother of Olt and Malverlain, friend of the Fellan, founder of Weld, had been a great sorcerer. Perhaps, indeed, he had been the greatest of the three.

With his brother Annoltis (or Olt for short), he banishes Malverlain from the island of Dorne.

In dread the people ran to their homes and like the serpents, dived deep. So they did not see the shadow slink from the fortress gate, and scuttle down to the shore. They did not see Alena’s eldest son, and her youngest, standing shoulder to shoulder, holding the banishing spell between them, pointing out to sea.
Few had considered the youngest son. Certainly the sorcerer now hissing in rage and pain on the sand had not. In his vanity it had not occurred to him that his murderous attack on his rival must lead to his having two enemies instead of one. Never had he thought that all his great power would not be enough to resist his brothers when they stood together, for the youngest was as strong in magic as the oldest, and together they were invincible.

Dann's brothers (who he is equal to) were able to shake the fortress of Nerra in their fight, lit up the night sky and caused even the sea serpents to flee in terror.

He refused. He attacked his brother with sorcery aimed to kill. His brother summoned up the magic that was his birthright, and fought back.
The duel shook the very stones of the fortress. The flashes of killing spells lit up the night sky. People cowered in the streets of Nerra and even the serpents in the sea dived deep in fear.

Being part Fellan & part human, he has the great magical power of the Fellan, but also lacks their weaknesses to salt & iron.

Salt did not bother the half-Fellan, and they could work with metal as easily as they could with wood.

“The brothers will live long,” someone else put in. “And surely this is not a bad thing. After all, why else did our sister Alenan sacrifice herself, but to ensure that Dorne was ruled by leaders who understood us, and would keep to the treaty?”
“You forget their human part,” said the man who had first spoken. “Humans are weak in many ways, but they have strengths that Fellan do not. They can live where they choose, sail the salt seas, and work with iron and steel. And humans do not give up life as Fellan do, when their time comes. Humans, however long they live, are greedy for life.”
“And power,” another voice added. “The best of them find it hard to let go of power, once they have it.”

Dann created a bag of sorcery with which a future chosen hero (Rye) would use to free the isle of Dorne from his evil brothers, which can be used by the chosen one (Rye) and anyone in contact with the chosen one. This includes a crystal that shines light and allows one to see through solid objects, a hood that makes one invisible & a sea serpent scale that allows one to swim in the roughest waters.

The crystal that gave light and also allowed him to see through solid objects. The horsehair ring for speed. The hood that made him invisible. The sea serpent scale that allowed him to swim in the roughest water ...

This also includes a shell which bestows durability great enough to protect from attacks which can break rock.

‘There!’ said Rye, fighting for calm. ‘You were between us and the bird, Dirk. Your back should be in tatters. And it is not!’
‘No.’ Dirk looked over his shoulder and twisted his arm around to feel his back. He winced slightly. ‘It feels a little tender, that is all. As
if it is bruised.’
Rye shook his head in confusion. ‘Yet all around us the snails were torn from the rocks, and the rocks themselves were—’
He chanced to look down, and saw with a small shock that the heaps of shells at his feet were moving. The snails were all calmly righting themselves and creeping slowly towards new resting places, slender tentacles waving in front of them.
‘They were not damaged either,’ said Sonia, wrinkling her nose.
‘How strange! Their shells must be as strong as iron not to have been crushed by—’
She broke off with a gasp. Her head jerked up. ‘The shell from the bag!’ she exclaimed. ‘Rye! Its power must be—’
But Rye had had the same thought, at the same moment. He had spread out his hand. The snail shell he had taken from his pocket just moments before the monstrous bird attacked was jammed firmly over the tip of his little finger, covering the nail like a grotesque growth.
Somehow, while he was clutching it, it had worked its way into place without his noticing.
‘Armour,’ he breathed. He tugged experimentally at the shell, but it would not budge. He suspected it would remain part of him until it sensed he felt safe from attack. He knew he should be glad of it, but the sight of it made him feel sick.

The ring allows for great speeds.

If the Fleet horsehair ring, enchanted, gave him miraculous speed, what might the scale of a sea serpent do if steeped in the same magic?

Dann's greatest magic was the creation of the Three Doors, something that in term of scope had never again been rivalled by anyone else in the setting in term of ability; time travel. The Golden Door lead far into the past, when all of the friends that Dann had made were still alive.

Thinking back over what he now knew of the Sorcerer Dann, Rye felt he knew what these needs were.
Dann missed the world he had left behind. Especially he missed the forbidden forest, and the Fellan who were his mother’s kin and his friends. As the years went by, his longing became so great that at last the tiled pictures he had made to remind him of what he had lost were not enough to comfort him. Brief escapes through the wooden Door did not satisfy his need either. So much time had passed that even in the forest much had changed, and he felt like a stranger.
So he created the golden Door—a door to the past. Through it, secretly, he could leave Weld and spend time with Edelle and the other Fellan he knew well, in the forest that was still as he remembered it. He could forget, for a time, his duties as Weld’s leader, his fears that his people’s magic was fading inside the Wall, and his growing doubts that he had done the right thing in shutting himself away from the outside world.
‘So when we went through the golden Door,’ Sonia breathed, ‘we went into the past. We travelled from the Fell Zone to the coast and back again with no idea that we were seeing Dorne as it was centuries ago—only a few years after Dann founded Weld!’
‘Yes,’ Rye said quietly. ‘And we have just made the same journey, following much the same route, with no idea we had done it before.’
He shrugged as Sonia gasped in disbelief. ‘A thousand years have passed. All the landmarks have changed so much that we did not
recognise them. Vine has taken over parts of the forest. The buildings of Fell End cover land where there were only fields and a goat shelter before. The stream has been widened and deepened to make a river. Riverside has grown up on the old site of Fleet. Oltan bay has been made safe for ships to anchor close to shore. Oltan itself has been rebuilt and renamed New Nerra—’

The Silver Door meanwhile, leads into the future, so that Dann could check that he did not make the mistake of allowing Olt to become a tyrant.

Rye nodded. His mouth was very dry. ‘I think Dann created the silver Door because his doubts became too much for him. He had to know…to know the result of his decision to leave Olt to rule Dorne unchecked. So in the space between the golden Door and the wooden one he placed a silver Door, covered with images that change depending on what is happening beyond it. The silver Door leads to exactly the same place as the other two do. But it is a Door to the future.’

Changing something in the past will cause the future to instantly change, as wiping out the Fellan in the present led to the Shadow Lord being allowed to invade (and Sholto who came through the Silver Door to suddenly find himself in the Saltings as the Fell Zone vanished from the timeline).

‘Wait!’ Sonia exclaimed, her face brightening. ‘Rye, you are wrong! When Sholto first went through the silver Door he was in the Fell Zone! The Fell Zone, Rye, as alive and magic as it is now! He was there for a long time, and there were trees and vines and—’
‘Sholto was in the Fell Zone for a long time,’ Rye agreed, still in that same, harsh voice. ‘For over a year. Then one evening the forest vanished, and he found himself in the Saltings.’

However, whatever the methods for making these doors are, it is something conditional, as when Dann was betrayed by someone he thought was his friend (in an attack which left him weakened), he was stranded in the past.

‘Dann’s friend pretended to agree, but secretly thought the plan was madness. He wanted things to stay just as they were. So he persuaded Dann to take him through the golden Door, and in the Fell Zone attacked him and stole the bell tree stick. He darted back into Weld, and the Door slammed behind him. Dann could not follow without the stick, and the attack had broken his strength, so he could not go to find another. He was locked out of Weld forever.’

In order to counter the tyranny of his brother Olt (and the worse tyranny of his brother Malverlain), Dann put his memories into a pond, so that someone in the future would come and free Dorne.

‘I do not think he died in despair, Faene,’ Sonia said, taking her hand. ‘He ended his days with the Fellan, who loved him. And he was certain that one day another would come to do what he could not. That is why he left his memories in the pool, and told the Fellan to keep his nine powers safe until the right person came to claim them.’

 

[Stocking Anarchy]

The Fellan are a race of fey folk-esque people who live in the forests on the isle of Dorne. The Fellan live much longer than humans, and have great magical power flowing through their veins. Their powers include (but are not limited to) taming the beasts that share their forest realm, speaking with each other telepathically, changing shapes at will, moving from place to place 'in a breath' and 'to create beauty from a handful of earth or a shred of bark.'

In the long ages before the great cataclysm of fire and water changed the face of the world, Dorne was home to a people steeped in magic. The Fellan, as they called themselves, were beautiful to look upon, and lived far beyond the normal span of human years. They did not build, or fish, or labour to grow crops, for the lush forests of Dorne provided them with everything they needed in the way of food, drink and shelter. They were well content, for the magic that ran in their veins gave them many powers. Among these were the powers to tame the savage beasts that shared their realm, to speak to one another in their minds, to change their shapes at will, to move from place to place in a breath, and to create beauty from a handful of earth or a shred of bark.

The Fellan can change the colour of their skin and their clothes.

Hooded figures were peeling from the trunks of the giant ferns that surrounded the clearing. They were brown, like the fern stems, and their long robes were dark brown, too, but as they glided toward the pond, their color began to change to green.

The Fellan control the wind to push back an attack against them.

A great gust of wind howled around them, almost lifting them off their feet. The Fellan could not approach the track, perhaps, but they
had the wind at their command, and the wind was fearful. It was screaming like a live thing, raging through the treetops, filling the air
with choking smoke and ash, sending flaming twigs and embers flying back towards Fell End. The Fellan were turning Farr’s own weapon against him.

The Fellan as a whole are more powerful than the Shadow Lord itself.

‘The Lord of Shadows has never forgotten the oath he swore as he was banished from Dorne’s shores. He vowed revenge. He vowed one day to return, to punish the people who had rejected him and to plunder Dorne’s riches. But standing between him and his goal was a magic greater than his own—the protecting magic of the Fellan. So he made a plan to trick you into destroying that magic for him, and put spies among you to carry the plan out.’

The Fellan sustain a protective circle around Dorne that keeps the Shadow Lord out.

‘When at last Olt died and the Lord of Shadows did not invade, the people realised they had been tricked. They thought the whole tale had been a lie, and forgot it. But it had been a lie only in part. As Olt well knew, there was a charmed circle around Dorne, protecting it from evil invasion. But the charm was held in place by the Fellan—as it is to this day.’

However, like many fey folk, the Fellan have a weakness against metal and salt (including sea salt), both of which dim their powers.

Fellan have no use for the coast. The sea is their enemy. The salt in the water weakens their magic, as metal does…

It had long been Fellan tradition to stay well away from the sea that surrounded their island. The land was the source of all their gifts, but the sea was their enemy. Salt water weakened their magic, and the sun of the coast scorched their delicate skins.

The beings who lived in the forests did not trade. They had no use for gold, and despised anything made of metal. They were rarely seen by strangers, and it was thought to be bad luck to encounter one by chance.