|
Post by Tales93 on Jan 24, 2021 22:34:54 GMT
[Investigate the forest first]
They could probably do this first. They need to think of a good plan before they can steal the documents.
|
|
|
Post by diversegnu on Jan 25, 2021 6:59:09 GMT
[Investigate Dragosh's study first] It's probably best to go to Dragosh's study while he's still reading the last rites for his friend, I suspect it will only be more difficult if we put this off.
|
|
|
Post by InGenNateKenny on Jan 25, 2021 7:13:27 GMT
[Investigate the forest first] 30 minutes of daily outdoor activity is recommended by most doctors.
This is the second time a werewolf has been mentioned, and third(?) time an ogre has been. I have a strong suspicion we will encounter one of these things soon.
Cool part. Could feel the tension oozing. Urdo would have sucked at this.
|
|
|
Post by GMS Freeman on Jan 25, 2021 13:37:07 GMT
[Investigate Dragosh's study first] Man.Dragosh Just sacres me.Lets just be done with the fortress when The Sword of swords Is still busy. Dragosh really is a Show-Stealer.Every encounter with him was tense.Lets hope we see more of him.And Yeah I really ship Edmond with Allicent Although they have just met.But yes.It could be possible isn't it?😉
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jan 30, 2021 1:11:49 GMT
[Investigate the forest first] 30 minutes of daily outdoor activity is recommended by most doctors.
This is the second time a werewolf has been mentioned, and third(?) time an ogre has been. I have a strong suspicion we will encounter one of these things soon.
Cool part. Could feel the tension oozing. Urdo would have sucked at this. I can say that both exist in the setting and both will appear in the story at some point. Ogres have been mentioned quite often now, they are a genuine menace in the province of Tobria and not even two decades ago, the March of the Thousand Ogres, the mass invasion of mind-controlled ogres, utterly devastated Tobria and as Dragosh said here, the orks (who are also going to appear sooner or later) have enslaved some of their kind as beasts of war. Werewolves meanwhile are an odd case, as depending on the culture and faith, they are not necessarily seen in a negative light. The Nivesians worship wolves and view werewolves as envoys of their gods and the followers of Firun, the god of the hunt, often consider lycantrophy more of a blessing than a genuine curse. It probably helps that werewolves are much, much rarer, because nobody in their right mind would worship them after actually meeting one of them. Glad you enjoyed the part! You are right, Urdo would have been terrible here. He wouldn't have blown their cover, but where Edmond managed to come up with an actually decent cover story, Urdo would have only strengthened Dragosh's suspicions, especially since he wouldn't have been able to help him with analysing the injured knight. At the same time, finding Azaril in the forest plays well to his strengths.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Jan 30, 2021 1:29:41 GMT
[Investigate Dragosh's study first] Man.Dragosh Just sacres me.Lets just be done with the fortress when The Sword of swords Is still busy. Dragosh really is a Show-Stealer.Every encounter with him was tense.Lets hope we see more of him.And Yeah I really ship Edmond with Allicent Although they have just met.But yes.It could be possible isn't it?😉 I'm glad you're enjoying Dragosh! He can indeed be a seriously scary man and Edmond's fear of him is warranted. Future scenes will expand on that, I really want his appearances to feel as intense as they are for Edmond. And yes, there will be more of him, he's going to have quite the arc planned in the upcoming parts! Hehe, while I naturally cannot comment on the future of these two, I can confirm that they are going to work together a lot more in the events to come, so their relationship will naturally develop as well. To what end, that remains to be seen, but at the least they have some obvious similarities, such as their devotion to their respective masters, Liscom in Edmond's case and Braken in Alicent's.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 2, 2021 3:36:24 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Edmond is going to investigate the forest first Ah, both options are not without its risks, this much I can tell you here. Dragosh is currently busy, but sneaking into his study is always immensely dangerous. He might be more on his guard later, but at the same time, investigating the forest now means that if Edmond finds anything to use against the Sword of Swords in there, he might be able to gain a crucial advantage. There will be a lot of new developments in his parts to come and I am looking forward for writing them down as soon as possible. The next part will be out right now. I'm closing the voting quite late, because I was not certain if I'd finish the part today, but I have just managed to bring it to an end. It's a surprisingly long part and I actually even decided to end it a bit earlier than initially planned, because cutting it in half will help me quite a bit with some pacing-related issues that have come up as my plans for this chapter progress. This next part will be an Iiro part. Last time we saw him, he and his group, now accompanied by Nadim Umer, brother to Naeem, investigated in the village of Broonsgorge, where the local bandit baron, Terkol of Beechmire, has asked for their help. He informed them that Fredo Bregelseam, a young farmhand, disappeared from his brother's farm, though his brother seemed to be oddly against Terkol's attempts to find the missing man. A little while later, Lucy Westree, a young woman whom Nadim was close to, tragically passed away after a short, severe illness and ever since, her mother has behaved oddly. The last time Nadim saw them, Lucy's younger sister began to show the same symptoms, though no one has seen her since. As such, the group decided to investigate the Westree home first. There, they were frostily greeted by the Widow Westree, who made it quite clear that they are not welcome in her home. She let them in reluctantly and only because of Maximus' rank as a priest of Rondra, though she was evasive and Iiro quickly got a bad feeling about her. Not long afterwards, her young daughter Laura joined them, merely a shadow of her former self. She looked pale and sickly and quickly collapsed after warning them that someone has apparently been watching her again. When Iiro and Maximus investigated her room, they only saw a cloaked figure running away into the night. Joined by Thea and Nadim, Iiro and Maximus then decided to chase after the figure, while Joanna and Vittorio will remain with the Widow Westree and her ailing daughter, hoping to finally get the truth out of them. As I said, the part will be out right now and I hope you'll enjoy it!
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 2, 2021 3:59:27 GMT
Iiro Iiro knew well how it felt, hunting for prey in frozen darkness. His mother had been a Nivesian huntress and she had taught him all about her homeland, where the sun would often hide for months and where every single one of their gods, the great Sky Wolves, was a hunter. As such, he knew of the dangers their current situation posed. It was dark in the village and with Broonsgorge built against the side of a cliff, the path they could tread on was narrow. Though they were on one of the lower levels of the village, the river below was frozen solid and one misstep could easily result in injury or worse. On top of that, the fresh snow made the path quite treacherous, even if it also allowed them to easily track down their prey. The cloaked figure, a human male most likely, barely paid attention to the slippery path. His step was firm and he was running fast, not necessarily faster than Iiro, or especially Thea, who barely seemed to even notice the snow. As expectedly, the Rime Elf had none of the issues that plagued the humans, but even then, the cloaked figure had a considerable headstart. Iiro tried his best to keep up with Thea's swift pace, but Nadim and Maximus had fallen hopelessly behind. Already, the stranger had reached a small bridge, one of several that led over the frozen river and to the few buildings built against the other side of the cliff on the opposite shore. They were houses no different from the ones on this side, though far less numerous and though the darkness made it hard to spot any details, most of them were lying in complete darkness. Most likely, some of them were even abandoned or meant for storing supplies instead of housing humans. A brief cry from behind him caused Iiro to glance over his shoulder. In the darkness, Maximus had slipped, though Nadim had reacted swiftly. The knight was stumbling, dangerously close to the cliffside, but Nadim had already grabbed him by the forearm. Despite his predicament, he held onto his sturdy shield. “Go!”, Maximus yelled and Iiro gave him a nod, while Thea didn't even turn around. They reached the bridge as the cloaked figure had already reached the other side of it. A brief ray of moonlight illuminated the stranger's haggard build, he was not particularly tall, but quite lean. And to Iiro's surprise, he spotted naked flesh on the man's arms, pallid in the moonlight, despite the biting cold. Even under the thick gloves, his fingers were numb and he didn't even want to imagine how painful and outright dangerous it had to be to leave the house without protective clothing in such a night. But the stranger did not seem to be affected by it, nor by the snow or the wind that howled against him. All things considered, it was not so much his speed that seemed inhuman, but his sheer ignorance to the conditions around him. He turned to a narrow set of stairs to his left, leading down a few feet to the river's shore. Just a handful of houses stood there on this sparsely populated side of the river and beyond, there was just a small path leading into the Dragongap itself, alongside the Broonswater and into the wilderness of the Red Sickle foothills. Even though the snow made it comparably easy to track him down there, actually catching up to him in the wilderness was as good as impossible, Iiro knew that much. “Fuck this...”, he mumbled, as he hurried across the bridge. A plan formed in his mind, a risky one, but he was not afraid of a slight risk. While Thea crossed the bridge, chasing after the stranger in the increasingly less likely hope of catching up to him, Iiro stopped and took a moment to realize which way the man would take. He took a deep breath and instead of turning to the other end of the bridge, he turned slightly to the side, still facing the other shore and the houses there, before he started to run. “Redal, what are you doing?”, Maximus called out for him somewhere behind him, but Iiro did not slow down. When he reached the edge of the bridge, he jumped. Though the fur weighed him down considerably, he had gained quite some speed until now and for a moment, he felt almost like flying. The Broonswater, a narrow creek at this point, but frozen solid, was beneath him, then the snow-covered road and then, at last, the houses on the far end. Iiro barely reached the edge of the low rooftop and immediately, in one moment of sudden shock, he felt the ground give in beneath him, as he landed upon the ice that was covering the roof. “Oh shit!”, he exclaimed, as a large shard of ice began to break off from the roof, right beneath his feet. Losing his balance almost immediately, Iiro fell forwards. He reached out, trying to grab anything, but there was just snow and more ice, coming down with him, as he fell from the roof and onto the road. Thankfully, there was soft, fresh snow to lessen the impact, but falling down from nearly seven feet still bloody hurt. Iiro landed on all fours, immediately groaning in pain, but he did not slow down to inspect the damage. Nothing seemed broken, which was good enough, though his bones still ached as he staggered back to his feet, now standing between the cloaked stranger and the road that would lead him out of the village. The man stopped and Iiro wasted no time to draw his sword. “Stay where you are!”, he roared. Briefly, the stranger glanced over his shoulder, spotting Thea closing in on him. Though Iiro could not see his opponent's face in this darkness, he clearly heard a gasp, almost terrified, as the figure, out of options, threw himself against the nearest door. To Iiro's surprise, the wood gave in, splintering despite the man's weak build. His stance was still shaky from the fall, but Iiro felt confidence as he hurried after the figure. They had him cornered and though he himself knew best that cornered prey was often the most dangerous, this was a chance. Now they had to make it count. With Thea only a few feet behind him, Iiro stormed through the broken door and into the darkness. Immediately, the sellsword heard sobbing. It was pitch black in here, but Thea only needed to snap her fingers and a small flame appeared within her palm, illuminating a small storage room. Stone walls, a narrow roof supported by two wooden pillars, with roughly a dozen larger crates piled up between them and around the wall. The man they had been chasing was kneeling on the ground, likely having realized that there was no other exit but the one he had just come through. He was facing the wall on the other end of the room, his head buried between his arms and he was sobbing in quiet despair. “No...”, he mumbled and his voice was thin, scared and hoarsy. “No... not like this... not like this...” Cornered prey he was, but he did not sound dangerous in the slightest, so Iiro actually lowered his sword. “You gave us quite the chase, mate”, he growled and the man did not react to his words. “Listen, we got a couple questions for you and you running away didn't make it any easier. But we got you now, so you better turn around and look me in the eye” Now, the man briefly looked up, proving that he could hear him just fine, but he did not turn around, not did he reply. At long last, Maximus and Nadim arrived at the storage room as well. The knight was breathing heavily beneath his armour and there was a sharp expression on his face, as he walked up next to Iiro. “By the lioness, Redal!”, he barked. “What were you thinking just there?” Iiro could not hide a slight smirk. “I knew it would work out”, he replied. “We would have lost him otherwise. You know that, Sir, don't you?” Maximus narrowed his eyes, though he gave him a brief, reluctant nod. “I do”, he confirmed. “But I still don't approve of this. It worked out, but it was a foolish risk. You could have injured yourself, badly so, and that would have thrown us back far more severely than letting this wretched man escape” He briefly glanced at the cowering stranger, who was burying his head in his arms once more, before he let out a sigh. “But since we got him now, let's make the most of it” “Aye”, Nadim growled, as he pushed himself past Iiro and the Rondrian. With clenched fists, he approached the stranger. “Is that him?”, he hissed. “The one that hurt Laura?” He stopped in front of the cowering man and as Maximus took a step forward, Iiro held him back slightly, just enough for the Rondrian to look at him. “Give him a moment, Sir”, he spoke and after a second, Maximus nodded in agreement. “Did you do anything to harm her?”, Nadim hissed. “Hey, you hear me?” He reached down, grabbing the stranger by the shoulder and immediately, the cowering man tensed up. “No!”, he yelled and despite his thin build, he had no problem pulling away from Nadim's grip, with a speed and intensity that visibly startled the guardsman. “What the...”, he gasped. “You were running away from the house. Why? You... you know something. About what happens to Laura right now, about what happened to Lucy before her! Did you do anything to hurt them?” Though he briefly placed one hand on the hilt of his blade, Nadim decided against drawing it, which did not surprise Iiro. Even if the young guardsman was visibly angry, he did not strike him as the sort of man to just attack an unarmed stranger. “I'm talking to you!”, he roared and once more, he reached down to grab the man. This time, the stranger turned and faced him, for the slightest moment, and in the dim light that came from Thea's hand, Iiro could see a pallid, haggard face, with a long, thin nose and a weak chin. He was young, not older than Iiro himself and his eyes were closed. “I said no!”, he yelled and the sudden outburst was enough to make Nadim stagger back. “What in the name...”, he growled, as the man turned around once more, to bury his head within his arms. “I think I know this man...” The stranger was shivering now, but even though he was visibly underdressed, Iiro got the feeling it was not from the cold. He wasn't even certain if it was shivering at all. Instead, the stranger was tensing up, his shivers looking more like a series of painful spasms, the lean muscles on his back twisting and turning, as the man let out a desperate groan. “No...”, he mumbled. “I did not hurt them! I never did...” “What is happening?”, Iiro asked, glancing at Maximus, who was watching the stranger carefully. “I don't know, but I don't like it”, the Rondrian replied in a firm tone. “Ready your blade. This might get ugly” Iiro followed the command at once, though Nadim did not react. “It cannot be...”, the guardsman mumbled, as he stared at the stranger in actual horror. “Fredo...” “I did not hurt them!”, the man now yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice stained with tears and in clear, obvious pain. He let out a long, groaning howl and almost immediately, the spasms that plagued his body stopped. Calm, just for a moment, he raised his head and took a deep breath. His hood had fallen back, revealing long, unkempt and stringy hair, coloured in an oily, dirty black. “I did not... hurt them...”, he repeated, his tone stressed, but quiet. Now, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes still closed. “I never hurt.... anyone...”, he spoke. “I'm just... watching them...” With these words, he opened his eyes and in an instant, Iiro knew that they had made a terrible mistake in coming here. His eyes were lacking an iris, just mono-coloured, milky white orbs. From each of them, a ghostly light glew, faint at first, but quickly growing in intensity until they easily outshined Thea's small flame, though it was cold and lifeless, dousing the room in its pallid gaze, but unable to illuminate it beyond a gloomy, sickening twilight. Thin rays of light wandered over the walls, as Iiro instinctively staggered back. That was another moment he knew quite well, the moment when the hunter himself became the prey. Before he could take more than two steps back, the wandering, inhuman gaze had found him and his companions and immediately, the world itself began to spin. As the man's horrid gaze fell upon him, immediate pain flared up within Iiro's guts. Not just pain, but agony, rapidly growing in intensity. He barely noticed it, but he was not the only one affected by it. Thea let out a thin, terrified scream as she sunk to her knees, the fire from her hand gone entirely, while Nadim fell onto his back, gasping for air, one hand on his own throat, the other grasping around aimlessly. Only Maximus remained standing and even he, the firm knight of Rondra, staggered in agony. Iiro sunk onto all fours, unable to concentrate, unable to resist this horrible sensation. Every fibre of his being cried out in pain, not just his body, but his mind and even deeper yet, his soul itself. Some unseen force within this gaze, within this ghastly light, tore at him relentlessly and the agony it caused was unlike any physical pain he had ever experienced. “Don't!”, the man, if he even was a man at all, screamed. “I don't... I don't want to hurt you! I'm not... I can't...!” His voice echoed hollow through Iiro's mind and it was the only sound that managed to break through his increasingly numb hearing. It felt as if someone was tearing his guts apart in his body and as he began to cough, he could clearly taste blood. Throughout this ordeal, Iiro felt something more than just overwhelming pain. Deep down, dark and quiet, a primal fear grew within him. He barely had the strength to breathe, but under other circumstances, he would have screamed in terror. It was not just the pain, not just the feeling of having his mind sucked away, but it was something much deeper within these inhuman eyes. They were filled with greed, a hunger that could never be sated and even in his current condition, Iiro noticed how jarring this expression was compared to the rest of the man's face, whose expression mirrored the horror his gaze so clearly caused within all whom he looked at. Only Maximus remained standing, though he staggered and stumbled. The knight raised his shield with one hand, trying to protect himself from the horrid gaze, but while he did so, he looked at Iiro and the expression within his gaze was proof enough that it did not work. Blood had gathered in one corner of Maximus' mouth and as Iiro briefly averted his gaze from the knight, he noticed that a slight pool of crimson had gathered beneath him as well. However, unlike Iiro, Thea or Nadim, Maximus did not go down. There was pain on his face, horrible agony, but none of the crippling dread that had taken Iiro. Instead, there was righteous wrath, as he staggered towards the beast, one hand holding the shield up, the other reaching for his sword, while the creature was looking at him, intensely and not without curiosity. “RONDRA!”, Maximus then roared at the top of his lungs, as he drew steel. In the same move and faster than the stranger could react, he took a swing at him. The light faded and immediately with it the dread and the agony. A feeling of weakness remained. As Iiro sunk onto one side, he felt drained in the truest sense of the word, faintly clutching his stomach, while his senses slowly returned to him. He knew in an instant, however, that the memory of this ghastly light would remain with him for the rest of his days, another memory to haunt him alongside Drakesfield and the Orkenstorm. The first thing he heard above his own heartbeat was screaming. It was a high-pitched, uncontrollable shrieking and as he managed to raise his head, he saw Maximus standing above the stranger. Right now, this man, if it was a man at all, was clutching at his face, covering his eyes, while blood seeped through his fingers. With one strike, the knight had taken his sight and already, he rose his sword to take his life as well. “Your magic will not protect you, fiend!”, Maximus barked. “By the lioness, I sentence you to die!” He took a deep breath, but before he could bring his sword down onto the blinded man, Nadim stumbled towards him, having regained his footing a little bit faster than Iiro. “Sir, wait...”, he mumbled. “I need to get a look at this man. I think... I think he...” Maximus narrowed his eyes, but indeed hesitated, as Nadim walked up next to him. In the meantime, Iiro got back on his knees, then onto his feet. He immediately turned to Thea, who was lying on the ground, her eyes wide with something he had never seen from her. She had always been prideful and composed, but never before had he seen such genuine fear from her. It took her a moment to react to him as he stumbled into her field of view and even longer to take his hand, once he reached out for her. “Are you okay?”, he asked. Immediately, Thea shook her head. “This creature is touched by the dhaza”, she gasped. “I felt it in its gaze. This is a lost soul and its sole purpose in this world is to force others down the same dark path” Iiro narrowed his eyes. “The dhaza?”, he asked and as he helped her up, the elf stumbled towards him. Her grip around his forearm was firm and even now, she was trembling. “Is there reason to be afraid, mylady?”, he asked and weakly, she gave him a nod. “You would be too, if you'd know what I have seen within his gaze”, she whispered and he noticed that she had lowered her voice, so much that not even Maximus or Nadim could hear her. “The dhaza... it is a god in your faith, but not one to be worshipped, but one to be feared and hated. In your tongue, it has no name” The Nameless One... the frail confidence that had grown within Iiro after the ghostly light no longer shined upon him was shattered in an instant and as he looked down to his free hand, he noticed that his fingers were trembling. “Oh...”, he just said, with wide eyes and a weak, shaky voice. “That... is too big for us, isn't it?” Thea merely nodded and her expression was the most grim he had ever seen from her. “Perhaps now is the last time to turn around and walk away with your life intact”, she warned him. Though he was still recovering from this horrid, soul-tearing gaze, Iiro managed to smile at the elf. “The same goes for you, doesn't it?”, he remarked and she gave him a slight nod. “And yet here you stand” Despite her obvious concern, she reciprocated his smile. “And yet here we stand”, she confirmed. “I have to say, human, I am impressed. It takes a special kind of bravery to face the dhaza with confidence in your heart” Iiro glanced down at his shaking hand, before he let out a dry, desperate chuckle. Truth be told, he hardly felt brave right now. The Rat-Child, the Mutilated God, the Thirteenth... though no living man knew his true name, if he even had one at all, the Nameless One had as many titles as there was evil in this world. His mother's people, the Nivesians of the great northern plains, knew him as the Surplus Wolf, the last and most cruel of the Sky Wolves, the one who was never worshipped, only feared. Here, where the Twelve Gods were worshipped, he was the Nameless One, oldest and most hated enemy of Alveran. And despite all that had happened in Drakesfield, Iiro felt far from ready to face the servants of such a vile entity. At the same time, he knew he had no choice. Side by side, Iiro and Thea turned back to Maximus and Nadim, who were leaning over the injured man. By now, the stranger's desperate cries had died down to a soft, terrible wailing, as he covered his ruined eyes. “I knew I recognized him!”, the guardsman exclaimed. “It's Fredor, Sir! Fredo Bregelseam!” Maximus stared down at the stranger, as Iiro recognized the name from his earlier talk with the bandit baron. “The missing farmhand...”, he mumbled and Nadim gave him a nod. “He was the first to go missing here in Broonsgorge”, he explained. “We all thought him dead!” “Dead....”, the man on the ground hissed and his voice was shaky and filled with agony. “Perhaps that would have been better” He lowered his hands and looked up, presenting the deep cut on his face, where Maximus had sliced through both of his eyes. It was a gruesome injury, not the worst Iiro had ever seen, but still enough to make him tense up. A smile formed on the man's face, neither joyful nor vile, but truly desperate. And as he looked down upon him, Iiro noticed something that made him reach for his sword. The injury, though deep and gruesome, was healing. Right as he looked at it, sliced flesh realigned itself, slowly, but steadily regrowing. At the edge of his face, where the cut was at its most shallow, the injury had healed already, leaving not even a faint scar. “He warned me though”, Fredo mumbled. “I don't die easily” “By the gods!”, Maximus exclaimed. “What are you, monster?” This time, Fredo's smile faded. Though his eyes had not yet regrown, Iiro knew it could only be a matter of time. Maximus reacted at once, readying his sword for another strike, but this time, Nadim outright moved in the way. “No!”, he exclaimed. “Sir, I know this man. Fredo might be a bit slow, but he has a kind heart” Maximus narrowed his eyes. “A kind heart?”, he barked. “Are you quite mad, Umer? You have felt his gaze upon you, haven't you? This godless creature must be slain before he recovers!” Nadim shook his head. “And risk losing the only man who can possibly tell us what is going on here?”, he asked. “Look at him... if he truly wanted us dead, he would not remain so still. I've known him for many years and I believe in his innocence. At least hear him out!” With these words, he tore a piece of linen from his cloak, while Maximus, with visible reluctance, lowered his sword again. “You have one minute”, he growled, before he glared down at the creature. “And you... make a sudden move and it will be your last” Still in obvious agony, Fredo gave him a nod. “I don't want to hurt you, I'm not...”, he exclaimed, before he took a deep breath. “I'm just... watching” As he spoke, his slashed eyes slowly, but steadily grew back together, severed tissue reaching out, reconnecting and healing. At the current rate, it would possibly take him a few minutes to properly heal from Maximus' strike, but Iiro did not want to be around when that'd happen. “And you... need to leave”, Fredo continued. “He did something to me and I... cannot control it. When they are near me, people die. I'm not doing anything to them! I'm just...” He paused and Iiro frowned. “Yeah, you're just watching them”, he growled in return, as he glanced at the piece of linen in Nadim's hand. “You think that's enough to hold him off?”, he asked, knowing exactly what the guardsman had in mind. Nadim shrugged. “Honestly? No idea”, he admitted, before he placed a hand on Fredo's shoulder. The creature flinched, before Nadim spoke to him. “Easy, Fredo, it's me”, he assured him and Fredo managed to give him a pained nod. “We need to talk to you, but before that, I'm going to blindfold you. Is that going to work?” Fredo shivered in pain, before he gave him a nod. “Perhaps”, he replied thinly. “You need to listen to me, Nadim. You're a good man, but you need to run. You need to flee from this village and from this land, for something evil is going on here” He barely flinched as Nadim pressed the linen onto his wound and Iiro could only hope that it would offer some protection from his terrible gaze. The guardsman sighed and stared at his friend for a moment. “What happened to you?”, he then asked. Fredo was silent after this, his body occasionally twitching in pain, though despite the cut, the linen on top of his eyes was barely stained with blood. Perhaps the injury was healed already and Iiro almost expected to see the otherworldly lights coming from beneath the fabric once more. But moments passed and it remained dark in the room, safe for Thea's small flame. “He took me. He took something from me”, Fredo mumbled. “He... hurt me. The pallid knight” Maximus narrowed his eyes. “A knight?”, he growled and Fredo gave him a weak nod. “He was tall, but so thin, with skin as white as snow and his eyes... gods have mercy, his eyes... they were like the one he gave me, but much more terrifying. I saw him... kill a man with his gaze alone” Maximus quietly shook his head, while Nadim placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Who was he?”, he asked and Fredo shrugged. “I don't know his name and I never saw him before”, he replied and his voice sounded calmer now, without even a hint of pain. “His armour was... black as a starless night. There were symbols there... scratched off, almost, but I still recognized them. Cuno showed me once and he told me to remember them always and so I did... those symbols were of the Lord Praios” “What?”, the knight growled and Fredo flinched at the harsh tone in his voice. “You tell me the knight was a Praiot? You expect me to believe that?” Fredo pressed himself against the wall behind him, cowering under Maximus' sudden anger. “I swear it!”, he exclaimed. “Please, don't hurt me! I'm not hurting anyone, I don't, I swear it! I saw the symbols and they were the same Cuno once showed me, the ones belonging to the Lord Praios!” “Heavy armour with symbols of Praios on it...”, Maximus mumbled. “Has to be the Sun Legion, but their armour is white and golden, not black. And none of them would ever entertain such ruinous magic” And yet, Iiro spotted a hint of discomfort in the Rondrian's voice. He was not certain about what he just said. “Every Sun Legionnaire alive has been hand-picked by the Envoy of Light and he is an impeccable judge of character” “But he is not alive, the pallid knight”, Fredo explained. “I watched him and he was not breathing, not once. And his skin was as cold as ice... I don't even feel the cold anymore, but his grip around my throat...” He paused and placed one shivering hand on his throat. “It still burns like winter...”, he added, before he grimaced. It was perhaps supposed to be a smile, but in his current condition, it seemed more like an expression of pain than joy. “Fredo...”, Nadim mumbled. “What have they done to you?” The creature shrugged and for a second, Iiro could clearly see his despair. “The last thing I know is that I was going to feed the cow one evening. Cuno sent me out, he wasn't feeling too well, he...” He paused and despite the blindfold, it was easy to see that he was crying now. His voice shivered, as he continued. “I need to see Cuno... I... please, I need to get back to my brother. I miss him so much, but I don't want to... I'm not... I'm not hurting anybody, please!” “Continue, beast”, Maximus spat harshly. “Tell me everything, or I'll end your cursed existence right here!” Nadim's eyes widened, as he glanced at the priest of Rondra, but Fredo merely sighed. “I don't know what happened after that, but when I woke up next, I was in a castle and there were others like me. Prisoners... the knight was a prisoner too, but we had to follow his orders nonetheless. It's... he... he told us what to do and we had to follow. His voice was... right in my head. I could not refuse” “Domination magic”, Maximus realized. “A Sun Legionnaire is blessed by Praios. None of them could ever cast spells” To this, Fredo shook his head. “Not magic!”, he exclaimed. “Something more. Something deeper. A connection... he... made us. All of us, into what we are now. There were so many others there with me. Alone. Afraid. Some had been changed already, some by the knight, others by his servants. There was a man named Elbaran. He was quiet, but when I panicked, he spoke gently to me. And another one... Ungolf was his name. The knight looked at him just once, before telling him that he would be dead before the first snowfall, or else... else he would starve. And then, he'd beg for death” “Death sounds a lot worse than starvation to me”, Iiro spoke and Fredo clenched his fists. “Not this hunger”, he clarified. “It's not our bodies that starve. I... I think my body is hungry. I haven't eaten since they took me. A slice of bread, a bit of cheese and a hard-boiled egg... I miss that, so very much. But no, my hunger goes deeper than that and mere food cannot sate it. It's a hunger of the soul and if we don't have our fill, it's... it's worse than normal hunger. It's... maddening” “Is that what happened to you?”, Iiro asked. Now, Fredo shook his head and he seemed almost ashamed this time. “I... fed”, he admitted. “Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. He warned me. He told me that I would lose my mind, all that makes me human, if I don't feed. I'd turn... feral, that's what he called it. I don't want that, but I don't want to hurt anyone either” “And on what do you feed, creature?”, Maximus asked, though Iiro knew they both had the same grim suspicion already. Fredo took a deep breath and stopped shivering, before he raised his blindfolded head, to look into the knight's direction. “Human... lives. Their heart's blood”, he replied in a bleak tone. “To fill the void, this hunger within me. I tried to resist, but he told me... it's futile” The creature shook his head. “This urge... it's unnatural. It's not me, but... I've seen stronger men break and give in. But I don't want to hurt anyone. I can't... so... the knight gave me something else to feed with. I don't have to hurt anyone, I just have to... watch them” Iiro felt a cold, gnawing dread deep within him by now. “Is that what you did to us?”, he asked and after a moment of hesitation, Fredo gave him a nod. “I cannot control it...”, he mumbled. “But you... stopped me soon enough. You'll feel crushed for a few days, drained, but you will recover eventually. Unless you take off that blindfold, because I cannot... I cannot hold back if you do that. Please, I don't want to hurt you!” Nadim turned away and his gaze met Iiro's. The sellsword saw despair in his eyes, a deep, crushing realization. “That is what happened to Lucy”, he mumbled. “It was not a disease and Laura isn't sick either. It was Fredo all along” Reluctantly, the creature gave him a nod, though Nadim had turned away, tears welling up in his eyes. “I did not want to harm her”, Fredo stuttered. “I did not even know it would kill her, but I was just... so... so hungry. Each night, when she was sleeping, I snuck to her windowsill and I... watched her” “Gods be damned...”, Nadim muttered, without looking at the creature. “We should have watched. I... I should have...” He spun around, Iiro merely catching a glimpse of rage on his face, but this time, it was Maximus who held him back. “Calm yourself, Umer”, he spoke and his voice was stern, but surprisingly gentle. “I understand how you must be feeling, but do not give in to rage and hatred. If this creature is telling the truth, then he is more deserving of pity... and he might be our only chance at finding out who is behind this” He placed the tip of his sword beneath Fredo's chin, forcing him to look up, despite the blindfold. “Do you understand, Fredo Bregelseam?”, he growled. “I am a Priest of Rondra and you will not lie to me. But speak truthfully and you may find redemption yet” A thin, desperate smile formed on Fredo's face. “I'd like that”, he mumbled. “I never wanted to kill anyone. I did not want to hurt Lucy... she was kind and she was gentle and I...” His smile faded, replaced by a sour grimace and with one swift move, Fredo slammed the back of his head against the wall behind him, heavy enough to make the old wood creak. “I am weak”, he muttered. “Stronger men have succumbed to the hunger. Even now, they are roaming this land, searching, feeding, killing” “But why?”, Maximus spat. “You said even the pallid knight who did this to you is a prisoner. Why would anyone do this?” With a grim expression, Iiro had to think back to what had happened in Drakesfield. Hundreds dead in the most terrible way, just because one madman thought it would be for the greater good. He wouldn't be surprised if it was something similar here. From his experience, the worst monsters were those with good intentions. “I don't know...”, Fredo admitted. “They took us. Dozens, more than I can count. Farmhands and vagrants and beggars... we were the first, the ones nobody would miss. The pallid knight fed on us. For some, this meant he tore out their throats with his teeth. Those were the lucky ones, the ones who did not get up again. With others, he took his time. Cutting them, bleeding them, drinking from them. They were begging for death long before it claimed them” For a second, he had to pause, as his voice cracked and in this moment, Iiro saw not a monster there, even if the memory of his ghastly gaze was still vivid. “I would have begged too, but my throat was sour from all the screaming. I could not utter a word when he came to me. That... that must have caught his attention”, Fredo continued. “He spoke to me... he said he would give me the greatest gift of them all. He told me I would see the world as he did, the beauty that lingers in the night. But there... there is no beauty here. Whenever I close my eyes, I see him in the darkness, just... watching me. And whenever I open them, I get closer to becoming just like him” “You do not know his name?”, Maximus asked and briefly, his stern voice softened. He even lowered his sword, as Fredo shook his head. “I have heard other names”, he told them. “Elbaran and Ungolf, who were brought before the knight on the same night. I haven't seen either since, perhaps they are dead. There were many more. He turned all of us, before letting us go with just one order. We all were supposed to give in to the hunger. To hunt and kill, to... to spread this disease he infected us with. We were linked to him and through us, he was linked to all we turned. Our numbers grow...” “So there's more of your kind, that's just bloody great”, Iiro mumbled. “And they could be anywhere in Meadows. All over the place, most likely, if they're behind the disappearances” Fredo gave him a slight nod. “Once a month, the pallid knight calls for us. At first, I tried to resist him, but he is... he is too strong. When he calls, I have to follow. We return to his castle... no, just a tower. I have never seen a castle in my life, but I think they are even bigger. There, we have to kneel before him. There's two others always by his side and I think he has to submit to them. One of them is like me, cursed with a hunger that never ends. He's not a prisoner and he's there out of his own free will, but he's never been cruel to me. He's... better than the other two. The other one, he's the one in charge. He is an elf, I think. The others call him an elf, but I have never seen him without his armour. It's heavy and all black, the darkest metal I've ever seen” “ Shakagra...”, Thea hissed and there was more hatred and bitterness in this one word than Iiro had ever heard from her. “We kneel before them and they... they bleed us. Collect our blood in vials”, Fredo continued. “They take all the life we stole to sate our hunger and leave us with a gnawing void. The first time that happened, I thought it'd drive me mad” He shook his head. “What they do after that, I do not know. The pallid knight sends us away once again to feed and kill and spread” “A tower... can't be too far away if you're supposed to meet up once a month...”, Maximus mumbled. “Has to be in central Meadows, perhaps a bit to the south. Plenty old ruins there” He was about to say something else and for a second, Iiro could see concern engraved on the knight's face, clear as day. “Can you lead us to the tower?”, he asked instead. Fredo shook his head. “I follow the call”, he spoke. “It's far away and when I travel, I avoid the roads. I can't even tell you the direction, it's... I hear him, when he calls. I follow his voice as it rings through my head” The concern was not entirely gone, but Maximus managed to compose himself swiftly enough. “So you know not where the tower is, nor do you know the name of the knight...”, he growled. “I know some names!”, Fredo exclaimed. “I already told you, there's Elbaran and Ungolf, but they might both be dead by now. There's a woman at our meetings, she's pretty and well-dressed and she never seems to be in a hurry. Has to be a noblewoman, she got that glow on her. I never spoke to her, but the pallid knight calls her Ulgraine” “Odd name”, Iiro replied, but Maximus shook his head, his eyes wide with horror. “It's a common name in the borderlands between Albernia and the North Marches”, he mumbled. “The dominating house of that area is House Mersley, the former stewards of Albernia and that name is quite common among them” He tensed up, before he turned back to the creature. “Describe the woman”, he demanded, his voice sharp and loud. Fredo gasped at the sudden anger in the knight's voice. “She... she's young. My age, I think. Brown hair, long and silky, one strand tied into a braid around her head. I think this is called crown braid. And she's tall, for a woman, looks lean and... strong. Blue eyes, dark blue and full lips. Beautiful lady and haughty, with a wide smile. And she always wears very tight pants. Never seen a woman wearing pants before” “Riding breeches”, Maximus sighed. “I have a terrible suspicion” Iiro glanced at the knight. “You know her?”, he asked and Maximus gave him a slight nod. “I fear I do”, he admitted. “There's a cadet branch of House Mersley, ruling over the barony of Menzhome in southern Meadows. House Mersley-Boarstribe... their lands border on mine. Used to be a large and proud house in their own right during the days of my grandfather, but these days, there's only two Mersley-Boarstribes left. Dustward, the Baron of Menzhome and his daughter... Ulgraine” “You think she's the one he's talking about”, Iiro realized and once again, Maximus nodded, this time without even looking at him. There was a sting of guilt on his face as he continued to speak. “Ulgraine is a lively woman, proud and charming. She's an excellent rider and knows how to swing a sword, but she can hold her own in polite society just as well. And her father Dustward, he is not just my neighbour, he is a friend. He's a man of integrity and honour and I've known him for my entire life. Though he is not a Priest of Rondra, he worships the lioness as firmly as I do” With these words, he shook his head. “Last time me and Dustward met, we even discussed a potential betrothal between Ulgraine and my second son, Jax”, he mumbled. “I... don't know what to believe. If Ulgraine has truly fallen victim to this curse, I am not sure I could bring myself to strike her down. Could she...?" He cut himself off after this, staring down at Fredo, who no longer seemed to be in any pain at all. “Can you be cured?”, Iiro asked, knowing exactly what the knight did not dare to utter. Fredo's mouth tightened and with visible reluctance, he shook his head. “This is not a sickness”, he told him. “We're still the same in body and mind, but something is different. Something is... missing. I don't know much of these things, I swear it, but I got a feeling that when we die, we'll go wherever that missing piece of us has gone to” It was a grim thought, especially knowing what Thea had just told him. “Then what are we going to do with you?”, he sighed. Normally, he'd just kill the beast and be done with it. But it didn't feel right in this case. Though it was hard to just ignore his inhuman gaze and the fact that he killed at least one woman, no matter how accidental it had been, he seemed more like a victim here. If he was telling them the truth, at least... Fredo took a sharp breath, more of a sudden gasp and Iiro realized that this entire time, the creature had not taken a single breath. “If... if you must kill me... ”, he gasped. “I... do not want to hurt anyone. But please... no pain. If you must do it... make it quick” His voice was thin and shaky just there. He was afraid and Iiro could not hold it against him. “I take your lack of resistance as proof of your good intentions”, Maximus spoke. “As such, I will give you my word as a Knight of Rondra. If death is indeed inevitable for you, it shall happen swiftly” With these words, he glanced down at his sword. “Although you already survived a strike meant to kill you”, he added. “You seem more the victim of a cruel curse to me than a true monster, but that doesn't make you any less dangerous to those I am sworn to protect” “We cannot do that!”, Nadim exclaimed. He was tense, his clenched fists shivering and his gaze was fixed somewhere between anger and sorrow. “You were a good man, Fredo”, he continued. “We cannot just kill you... there has to be a way to save your life” In clear frustration, he slammed one hand against the wall to his left. “Damn it!”, he barked. “Perhaps there is a way”, Thea admitted. “Perhaps there shouldn't be. No matter who it used to be, it is of the dhaza now. There is no coming back from the dark wind” The flame in her hand burned brighter as she spoke. “We should kill the tala'lamia, before it spreads its taint!” Though Iiro was used to not understanding what the elf thought or felt, this was harsh even for her. He saw the expression on her face, part hatred, part naked fear and he knew how serious this was to her. “You called him a... tala.. lamia?”, he asked and she gave him a furious nod. “You are tala”, she told him. “Humans. A lamia in my language is something that looks familiar but does not belong” She pointed at Fredo. “Like this monster. Among my people, we know of the fey'lamia, who look like us and speak like us, but who have been tainted by the dhaza. They lurk in the shadows, preying on our souls, on all that makes us fey. They are not elves, just like this one is not a human. It will not thank you for your mercy and the moment you turn your back, it will kill you” “You're too harsh on him”, Nadim protested and Thea narrowed her eyes. “And you are blinded my the friendship you felt to the man it used to be”, she replied coldly. “But this man is dead and this thing is just wearing his face. Perhaps it has deluded itself into thinking like Fredo Bregelseam, but it is not him and never can be. If you need any more convincing, just think back to the girl it killed. You cared for her a great deal, didn't you?” Nadim flinched and quickly averted his gaze, glancing from Thea to Fredo, before he nodded, almost sheepishly. “Which is why I want to kill the one responsible for it. For what happened to Fredo and to Lucy through him. The pallid knight... if helping Fredo is our only way at getting to him, then we have to do it!”, he explained. “Fredo was a good man and I want to believe that part of him still is. That he can get back from this” Though Iiro could not see the creature's eyes, he saw the rest of the face and the expression on it was one of pure grief. “Nadim...”, Fredo mumbled. “I... I don't want to die. If this is the only way to make this stop, then... it has to be done while I can still think like myself. Before the hunger consumes me. But... I don't want to die. I'm afraid...” To Iiro's surprise he spotted tears running down Fredo's cheeks. “Nothing but darkness is waiting for me. I know I am weak and I hate myself for it. For what I did to Lucy, I deserve to suffer. But... I don't want to die, because I know what is waiting for me” “Not Golgari and the Nowhere Sea then, nor Boron's Halls...”, Maximus mumbled. “This is a difficult decision and I don't want to make it on my own. Taking a life should never be easy, but this right here... no, I cannot act hastily. Captain Walter deserves to weigh in on the issue, she's firm in her morals and I trust her opinion. I even want to hear what Crawford has to say, for he is bound to see things the exact opposite as I do. His viewpoint might be refreshing” “I'll fetch them at once, Sir”, Iiro promised and Maximus gave him a nod. “Take Nadim with you”, he ordered. “No one should walk alone in a night like this. Me and Thea will keep an eye on this creature. Between her magic and my strength of arms, there is little either of you could offer to help, should Fredo decide to resist us after all” “I will not!”, Fredo exclaimed and Maximus shrugged. “We'll see about that...”, he growled, before he took a step closer towards Iiro. “One more thing before you leave, Redal” Iiro, who had already turned to Nadim, glanced over his shoulder and right into the stern, blue eyes of the knight. “I know where Thea stands. I think I even understand why she feels so strongly about this, though I can emphasize with Nadim just as well”, Maximus spoke. “But what about you?” “Me?”, Iiro asked and Maximus gave him a quick nod. He was surprised the knight cared enough about the opinion of a low sellsword, for his own thoughts on the matter were the last he himself would consider here. Thea knew more of this than he did and Nadim had a personal stake in the matter. But he... yes, where did he stand on this? Just looking at the blindfolded creature was enough to make him tense up. He had to be on the edge around Fredo, after what had happened, and there was no doubt that the creature remained dangerous, if not by choice then due to this beastly hunger that seemed to plague him. And yet... he felt an ounce of pity for Fredo. If he had been honest with them, he was the victim of a greater evil. Killing him would not feel like justice here, at most it would be a necessity. He had no illusions that killing Fredo would doom him to a cruel fate. According to the tales he had grown up with, that was usually the case for those caught by the Nameless One. But if there was a cure... There had been one in Drakesfield, but even then, they had only managed to save three people out of hundreds. They had stopped the madman behind it, but even then, it hardly felt like a victory and Iiro hardly felt like a hero, for all things considered, hundreds had still died and he had been powerless to help them. Perhaps this time, it could be different. Perhaps this time, he could save this pitiful creature. And yet... the fear remained that even trying to save him would endanger more innocent lives. His own and that of his companions, but also of the people around them. It would be a risk and he remained hesitant to take it... [Say that you are in favour of killing him] [Say that you are in favour of curing him]
|
|
|
Post by GMS Freeman on Feb 2, 2021 14:18:31 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of curing him]
|
|
|
Post by drdestroyer18 on Feb 2, 2021 16:42:22 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of curing him]
|
|
|
Post by Tales93 on Feb 2, 2021 19:17:34 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him]
I'm not sure there is a cure for this, but if there is they should try. Thankfully, they are just asking his opinion, he isn't making a deciding choice. I think he is going to end up causing more death if he isn't stopped. I think he may feel he is too dangerous to be left alive. Plus, we aren't sure if the blindfold will completely protect them; they may have to act quickly. Anyways, a lot of new and important info was learned in this part.
|
|
|
Post by diversegnu on Feb 3, 2021 4:23:45 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him]
I think the likelihood of finding a cure is low, and to find it before Fredo completely loses it is next to none. Iiro seems like the kind of person that is capable of making pragmatic but tough choices.
|
|
|
Post by InGenNateKenny on Feb 4, 2021 7:42:37 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him] Elbaran and Ungolf were not good; I doubt that Fredo will remain so, even if I believe him.
This development about the Nameless One is very interesting. Clearly, Asch is a pallid knight...unless this is a total misdirect which I admit would be interesting.
This and my earlier thoughts on the matter made me think of one of the greatest transformations scenes in all of film, that of An American Werewolf in London. But this isn't a transformation scene, although I didn't realize that until reading more.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 9, 2021 17:48:56 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him]I'm not sure there is a cure for this, but if there is they should try. Thankfully, they are just asking his opinion, he isn't making a deciding choice. I think he is going to end up causing more death if he isn't stopped. I think he may feel he is too dangerous to be left alive. Plus, we aren't sure if the blindfold will completely protect them; they may have to act quickly. Anyways, a lot of new and important info was learned in this part. Aye, for now this is just Iiro's opinion and not a decision on Fredo's fate. In the end, Maximus will be the one making the choice here, but Iiro's opinion may very well sway him into one direction or the other. And indeed, a deciding factor for Maximus' decision will be if Fredo can be stopped or cured, because even though he is essentially a victim of circumstances beyond his control, he remains terribly dangerous, capable to essentially kill people just by looking at them. The blindfold seems to help for now, but Maximus also just blinded him and the injury is already healing, so there's no saying how well it will protect against his sight once he has completely recovered.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 9, 2021 17:50:53 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him] I think the likelihood of finding a cure is low, and to find it before Fredo completely loses it is next to none. Iiro seems like the kind of person that is capable of making pragmatic but tough choices. You're right on both cases, the chances of finding a cure are very low, especially since the group doesn't yet know just what manner of curse is affecting him. That being said, the truth behind Fredo's condition will be revealed shortly. And indeed, Iiro is basically the guy for the pragmatic and tough choices in the group. He's got his own morals, but they are not as rigid as Maximus' or Thea's (even if the latter's morality doesn't always properly align with a human worldview) and even though he'd prefer curing Fredo if given the opportunity, if he decides that there's no way of doing so without risking a lot of innocent lives, then he is certainly capable and willing to just kill him.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 9, 2021 17:51:13 GMT
[Say that you are in favour of killing him] Elbaran and Ungolf were not good; I doubt that Fredo will remain so, even if I believe him. This development about the Nameless One is very interesting. Clearly, Asch is a pallid knight...unless this is a total misdirect which I admit would be interesting. This and my earlier thoughts on the matter made me think of one of the greatest transformations scenes in all of film, that of An American Werewolf in London. But this isn't a transformation scene, although I didn't realize that until reading more. Aye, both were on a much more advanced stage of madness than Fredo. Elbaran still indulged himself on the people he killed, as a result he still has lucid moments, but Ungolf, whose weakness was snow and ice, was trapped in that cave for months and had completely lost his mind by the time Yveshin stumbled upon him, having degenerated into nothing but a savage beast. I can reveal now, he intentionally trapped himself in that cave, because he hoped that by doing so, he could avoid encountering people, which he would be tempted to feed on. His big mistake, however, was that he underestimated just how much his mind would degenerate without any means to counter the hunger. Fredo meanwhile, he regularly fed on Lucy Westree and as this part has basically confirmed, he is also feeding on her younger sister, so he remains relatively sane and capable of rational thought. Asch is indeed pallid and a knight, but the same attributes can apply to other characters as well. One thing is for certain, the Nameless One is involved heavily in this and it is also known that he is connected to the Night Elves and their queen. And while more exposition on him will follow soon, he is by far the most terrifying deity in the setting (which includes the various archdemons, many of whom are merely mildly unpleasant when compared to that guy) and by going against his plans, an average man such as Iiro is deeply out of his comfort zone. I had the same thought while writing this. Since it wasn't a transformation scene, it wasn't something I had thought of while planning this part, but during the writing, I immediately realized what it would look like. I cannot yet confirm if your thoughts on the matter are correct, but what I can say is that the next part will give some more answers about the nature of these strange enemies the various characters have been up against.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 12, 2021 0:29:24 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Iiro is going to say that he is in favour of killing Fredo A difficult decision for sure and one that won't come easy for Iiro. In the end, killing him here is definitely the most pragmatic decision and it will certainly prevent future casualties, even accidental ones. Fredo is a tragic case and given the opportunity, Iiro would likely at least try and cure him, but without any hint how to achieve this, perhaps putting him down before he harms others is the most merciful option. In the end, Maximus is the one to make the decision, but he's a fairly rational mind as far as Rondrians go, so he's definitely not above getting advice before he forms his opinion. As such, Iiro's decision here at least made it more likely that Maximus will decide to kill Fredo in the end. The next part will be out later today or early tomorrow. Writing took me a bit longer, mostly because I got carried away with some FoT plans, but it is coming along nicely at long last. It will be a Kobold part, picking up a few hours after his last part ended. Last time we met him, Kobold and his companions, Eret, Darbrek and Abigale, waited in Jobdan Boswitz' mansion until Elbaran, the Whorescarver, would arrive to take their revenge on them. This happened right after Kobold went out for some fresh air, while the goblin was talking to Dangig Skywood, a rude guardsman whom he had clashed with before. Just as he and Dangig came to an agreement, Elbaran attacked and while Kobold managed to hide, Dangig faced the creature without fear. Surprisingly, he managed to badly injure Elbaran and he would have surely killed him if not for the arrival of a strange woman, a huntress named Nadarie, who seems to suffer from the same condition as Elbaran. She quickly overwhelmed Dangig, but merely knocked him out instead of killing him. As it turned out, Elbaran is struggling greatly with his current nature and he has been driven mad to the point where he believes that simply killing people is a mercy compared to what Nadarie and her superiors are trying to do. There's still a glimpse of a conscience within him, if warped almost beyond recognition, showing that a fragment of his former self survived beneath all the madness, whereas Nadarie seems completely at ease with her condition. She mentioned a certain Walmir who awaits Elbaran, but the killer was reluctant to go with her until she mentioned that his queen, this ominous woman whom he is completely subservient to, also waits for his arrival. They parted ways again, with Nadarie taking the unconscious Dangig with her, while Elbaran promised to follow once he finished his work in Baliho, meaning once he kills Kobold, Boswitz and the group. Unfortunately for him, his fight with Dangig left him unable to properly fight back once Kobold managed to lure him into a trap. With the help of Eret, Elbaran was quickly overwhelmed, injured and left at Kobold's mercy. The goblin could have killed him quickly there, but he decided to interrogate him instead, with the next part showing the final stages of said interrogation. As I said, I am trying to finish the part before heading to bed today, but if that doesn't work out, it'll be out early tomorrow.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 15, 2021 4:41:28 GMT
Kobold With a sudden flinch, Elbaran threw his head back and screamed, as loud as he still could. The stench of seared flesh filled the room, though Kobold was confident that neither smell nor sound would leave these walls. It was rare to have a room such as this in a private residence and he knew better than to question what Jobdan could possibly use it for, but the chains, the fireplace and the multitude of crude tools spoke a clear language. This was where the cattle baron brought those who refused to pay. In his old life, it had been Elbaran himself who had used these hooks and knives on men like Arris. It felt almost karmic that he was now on the receiving end of the pain. Almost. In his few lucid moments, the killer seemed more pitiable than anything else. And then there was the things he had said before storming the mansion. He seemed an honest man, strangely enough, and Kobold believed him. He truly thought of his deeds as a mercy. Unfortunately for him, he was also remarkably stubborn. After a moment, Kobold pulled the piece of wood back. It was a stake, made of apple wood, but he hadn't used it to pierce the man. Instead, he merely had to hold it against the unprotected flesh on his back until he himself could no longer deal with the stench. He was not born for this sort of work, for he found no pleasure in it. At the same time, he was perfectly fine with it if there was no alternative. And right now, with several people dead, Dangig missing and a second freak running around in the Meadows, he was just out of options. “Come on...”, he spoke, his voice no longer as calm as he wanted it to be. “Who is behind all of this? Give me a name, spare yourself a lot of pain” Elbaran's screams slowly died down into a weak, pitiful chuckle. “I already lived through the worst of it, didn't I?”, he gasped. Kobold narrowed his eyes, as his gaze wandered across the charred flesh on Elbaran's back. A normal human would have been dead by now, but there was nothing normal about this one. “It won't be long now” “Still...”, Kobold sighed and for a moment, he was tempted to use the stake again. Then, he lowered the weapon and shook his head. He could kill this beast right now, but that would hardly help anyone, would it? Tsaja's death wasn't avenged just yet, the ones behind Elbaran's rampage were still around. And after this interrogation, there was one thing Kobold knew for certain. Elbaran had been the one to kill his contact here in Baliho, but he was not behind the cases in Festum or Uhdenmount. Perhaps the cases were related, which was yet another reason not to just blindly execute this murderous beast. “I heard you”, he continued, his tone calmer again. “Before you stormed Boswitz' mansion, I mean. You hate the one who did this to you. Why not spend your last moments telling me all about him?” “Him...”, Elbaran growled and briefly, his voice sounded darker, the gurgle within his throat giving him an almost demonic tone. “Who said anything about 'him'?” Kobold narrowed his eyes. “The Baroness of Mersley-Boarstribe?”, he asked, remembering what Boswitz had told him earlier. Now, despite his injuries, Elbaran chuckled. “Ulgraine...”, he growled. “Once, I thought of her as the most beautiful woman in this world. For her, I was willing to give up a good life here” He shook his head. “I shouldn't have... it was a mistake, coming to Menzhome. All of this could have been avoided... but Ulgraine... back then, I would have done anything for her” “What changed?”, Kobold asked, glad he finally got him to talk. Elbaran sighed. “Everything. Nothing”, he replied. “I followed Ulgraine on that fateful night. I knew she harboured a terrible secret, but I did not care, I...” His voice trembled, if briefly. “I loved her. I wanted to be with her. And if it meant sharing her secret, then it seemed a small price to pay”, he admitted in a sober tone. “I was a fool, for I did not see her for what she truly was” And just like this, the almost sane expression on his face was gone again. “A whore like the rest of them!”, he spat. “Ulgraine tricked me. Bound me and dragged me to the beast” “Now we're getting somewhere...”, Kobold mumbled. “The beast, eh?” Elbaran gave him a weak, frustrated nod. “Walmir”, he growled. “My kind... once we were human, but with him, I doubt it. He's a monster, an ancient and cunning one. What had been done to him, centuries ago, he now shared with us. Turned us into monster. I remember I was afraid when he grabbed me. I remember screaming when I saw his teeth, so long and sharp. When they dug into my throat, I was certain this would be the end, but... what he did to me was so much worse” Kobold rolled his eyes. Of course, he believed Elbaran's tragic tale of one-sided love and lost humanity, but that didn't mean he had even an ounce of pity for this man. Pity in general didn't come easy for him, but he chose to reserve it for the truly innocent, preciously few as there were to begin with. Elbaran's victims for example. “So, Walmir is the one behind all of this?”, he asked and to his dismay, Elbaran shook his head. “He is a prisoner. All he did, to me and to the others, all he is doing right as we speak, he did it because she forced him... my queen”, he replied. “But make no mistake... you think me a monster, but Walmir is worse than either of us can truly comprehend. He was reluctant to turn me and the others, not because he took pity on us, but because he knows it will draw attention to him” “That it did”, Kobold confirmed. “Tell me then, if not Ulgraine or Walmir, who is behind all of this?” Elbaran was quiet for a moment, just long enough for Kobold to start worrying that the monster may have passed away before telling him. Just then, however, a desperate chuckle came from his throat. “You know...”, he mumbled and as he looked up, he stared right at Kobold with a ferocity that made the old goblin flinch. “Funny thing is, even now I have no desire of telling you anything about her. I should hate her for what she did to me, but I just... can't...” The old goblin stared at the beast for a moment without saying a word. Then, he gave him a nod. “That woman, your 'queen'... she must be something special, huh?”, he replied. “She is responsible for turning you into this... monstrosity and yet you are willing to die for her. She ruined your life...” As soon as he had said this, Elbaran narrowed his eyes. He tried to lunge forward, but the tight chains prevented him from moving his arms. Regardless, Kobold staggered back, startled by the sudden movement. “She did not!”, Elbaran roared and briefly, he glared at Kobold with mad hatred. “She did not ruin my life! Walmir turned me, after Ulgraine tricked me. But the queen... my queen... she's pure and perfect. Just a glimpse of her was enough to give me purpose. There is no light in this world but her, a bright beacon amidst the darkness. How could I hate someone so pure?” His expression, though still made with rage and hatred, twisted slightly as a wide, deranged smile formed on his face. It was in this moment that Kobold realized without a doubt that he would gain nothing more from his prisoner. Whomever Elbaran used to be, that man was gone. Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't learned anything useful from him in the end. “I understand it now...”, Kobold admitted. “All this time, I thought she bewitched you in some way. Cursed you into loving her even as she twisted you into this beast” He shook his head. “Now I see, you're just pathetic”, he hissed, as he raised the stake. “You want to die for that woman? Have it your way then” With these words, he raised the stake, giving Elbaran just enough time to realize what was about to happen. To his credit, the madman did not beg nor scream, not even as the wooden stake pierced through his chest. Kobold was not a strong man even by his species' standards, but to his surprise, Elbaran's bones broke the moment the tip of the stake touched them. It was shockingly easy to drive the stake into Elbaran's chest and through his heart. Kobold tried to be quick about it, though it still had to be painful and yet, the monster remained entirely silent, safe for one brief, exhausted grunt just before the end. Every remnant of strength left the body and he would have collapsed right there if not for the chains holding him up. Elbaran the Whorescarver was dead at last. Kobold turned away from the creature immediately. His heart was beating furiously and as he was glancing down, his hands were trembling. Of course, it was one thing to give some orders, have someone beat up for causing him trouble, break a few fingers perhaps. That's how he did things, he wasn't exactly proud of it, but for all the vile things he was, he was at the very least not a killer. Actually taking a life was something else, even if Elbaran was a dangerous madman. Perhaps next time, he should ask Eret to do the deed, but that didn't sit right with him either. It had to be done and Kobold wouldn't beat himself up over one dead monster, but it still left him tense and deeply unsettled. As soon as he had left the room, the goblin took a deep breath. Jobdan Boswitz sat on a small bench right in front of him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. The deep dark rings beneath his eyes showed how exhausted he had to be. “You done?”, he growled and there was something in his tone which made Kobold's fur stand up. “Don't give me that tone, Jobdan”, he replied in a sharp tone. “I'm not going to judge you for having such a room in your basement, so don't you fucking dare judging me for using it” “I'm not judging you”, Boswitz clarified. “Just surprised. We got the killer. Your girl is avenged, so why go to such lengths to find the ones behind it?” Kobold grimaced. “Anyone ever told you you're a terrible man?”, he asked, to which Boswitz nodded nonchalantly. “Well, so am I. So are most people, humans, goblins, dwarves, most of them are petty, selfish and judgemental. Sure, some can be pleasant, likeable even. I wager I got those moments too” His tone, though sharp at first, softened considerably as he continued. “But every once in a while, I meet someone who is different. Someone who is actually, objectively decent. I try to keep those people close, because I know I can trust them. And I look out for them, because they cannot be replaced as easily as the countless thugs you have under your employ. You may think of me as a crude, selfish bastard and you'd be right most days, but I care for those who have been kind to me” Boswitz seemed to understand immediately. “That girl he killed, she was one of those, huh?”, he asked and Kobold quietly nodded. “Tsaja was a sweet girl”, he mumbled. “But this is not just for her. Say, did you not wonder why I returned to Baliho all of a sudden? If not for Elbaran forcing us to work together, I would have risked your wrath by stepping onto your land” “The thought crossed my mind”, Boswitz confirmed. “You're smart. I appreciate that about you, if nothing else. So, you came to Baliho not just for Tsaja, am I right?” Kobold sighed. “Unfortunately”, he revealed. “Tsaja was murdered by Elbaran, we know that now. But before her death, one of my contacts in Uhdenmount was murdered, a miner named Sal. No evidence, no witnesses, nobody even cared. Before him, I investigated in the death of Agnes, a seamstress from Norburg, who was strangled in her home. And before that, I lost two of my contacts in Festum. Someone is going around, killing everyone who is associated with me and I owe it to them to find the bastard responsible. Elbaran may or may not have been in league with that person, but finding the ones behind his rampage is about the only lead I have left right now” “And here I thought you heartless, Redfur”, Boswitz spat. “Nonetheless, you have proven that your cunning is perhaps just what is needed to put an end to this madness. Say what you want about me, but I care about Baliho and the Meadows. If you decide to continue on this journey, I will support you” Kobold rolled his eyes. “Careful, Boswitz”, he replied in a sharp tone. “People may get the wrong impression about you when they hear you speaking like that” He had a dry smirk on his face and for a second, it seemed as if Boswitz reciprocated the gesture beneath his mighty moustache. “I prepared a room for you and your grunt”, the cattle baron then spoke. “Second floor, the third door on the left. It's not much, but you can rest there for tonight. Before you do that though, you should speak to Miss Abigale. Saw her earlier, with that book she took from the library. Seemed mighty disturbed, even by the standards of what we all had to witness tonight” Kobold gulped. “I'll look out for her then”, he promised, before he turned to leave. “Oh, and Jobdan...”, he added, just as he had turned his back on the cattle baron. He hesitated for a moment and clenched his clawed fists. “Thank you”, he finally growled. “Without you, we wouldn't have managed to lure Elbaran out of hiding. Perhaps that bastard would have gotten away after all and that thought makes me sicker than this right here, having to thank you for a job well done” “Don't mention it”, Boswitz replied. “Seriously, don't. I didn't do it for you and I can sleep better without your gratitude. If you really want to thank me though, find the ones behind all this and give them a right proper arse kicking” Kobold nodded, without turning back. “That I'll do, Jobdan”, he mumbled. “That I'll do...” He didn't have to look for Abigale, for he very nearly stumbled upon her on his way through the mansion. The young woman had seated herself on the stairs, a heavy tome on her lap. Her eyes were closed, though she opened them as Kobold approached her, the look within them inscrutable as ever, yet undeniably tired. Weary even, in a way that was rare for a human of her age. “Is it done?”, she asked and Kobold gave her a worldess nod, as he sat down next to her. “You should rest”, he spoke, softer as her would ever speak to Boswitz. “It has been one hell of a day” She sighed. “You have no idea...”, she mumbled in return, placing one hand on the tome. It immediately caught Kobold's attention and the goblin leant closer. “What do you have there?”, he asked and Abigale's expression hardened. “The Whorescarver...”, she hissed. “Is that monster dead?” Once again, he gave her a nod and she finally calmed down, if slightly. “I know what he is... was, I mean”, she revealed. “You heard what he had said in the hallway, aye?” Kobold tensed up and to his dismay, he indeed recalled it. “He mentioned the Rat-Child”, he growled. “The Nameless One, or one of his aspects at least” “One of the darker aspects, yes”, Abigale confirmed. “The Rat-Child stands for his greed, for this eternal hunger that plagues him. So, I went back to the library and convinced the librarian to let me see the books they keep hidden away from the commoners. I... was not supposed to take it with me” Despite the grim situation, Kobold flashed her a toothy grin. “I am so proud of you”, he complimented her and though her expression was quite severe, she briefly mellowed and gave him a thin smirk. “So, spit it out. What did you find?” “This book is surprisingly detailed on the topic”, she told him. “The Nameless One and his servants... demons who are shunned even by their own kind, twisted elves, cults in every large city in Aventuria, consisting of the ruthless, the desperate or the hopelessly insane. Worse things too. One beast stands out though... you may laugh, but I believe Elbaran was a vampire” Kobold stared her straight in the eyes for a moment, trying to find anything that could indicate a jest. He found none, but his smirk widened regardless, hopeful at first, then increasingly desperate. “You're kidding me”, he spat. “You gotta be kidding me! Vampires? Scary tales for superstitious humans. Those things don't exist” “We humans are afraid of a lot of things”, Abigale replied. “Most of them exist, though they are rarely as common as we make them seem to be. Vampires... I know a few things about them from this book and a few more from my studies, enough to know without a doubt that they are real. They're rare though, extremely rare. The last time one of them acted as openly as Elbaran did... has to be centuries ago” “Vampires...”, Kobold mumbled and a cold chill ran down his spine, as he realized that Abigale was indeed not joking. “What do we know about them?” Abigale tapped onto the book with one finger, before clenching her fist. “It all fits with what we know of Elbaran”, she told him. “They were humans once, some got turned willingly for great power, but most were forced into this fate against their will. Their reasons matter little though, because the moment they turn into a vampire is the moment they are lost for good and all that they once were is drowned out by an overwhelming desire to feed. The weak succumb to it immediately, but the book mentions there's no exception and that even the strongest and purest mortal will eventually be driven to madness and hunger. They crave not for the food you and I would consume, but for one thing only” “Blood, eh?”, Kobold mumbled, now without even looking at the woman. “That's what the tales say, at least” Abigale shook her head. “They are not after our blood in general”, she explained. “It's something within it. Our souls, or a part of it at least. A scholar on the topic could explain it better. Basically, a part of our souls is used to strengthen the gods we believe in, once we join them in the afterlife. The Nameless One is a prisoner to the gods of Alveran, chained to the Wall of Stars and cut off from this strength, so he relies on his slaves to steal from others” “They steal our souls?”, Kobold asked and the trembling got worse than before. Abigale tried to appear calm as she nodded, but he could see the fear in her eyes clear as day. “Apparently they extract it through our blood, but some can do it by simply looking at their victim. Most vampires are impatient feeders, they kill their victims before extracting the rest of the soul, leaving them free to pass on to their gods once they die. It may sound like a small mercy, but it's the best any of us could hope for when attacked by a vampire. In that case, we get to pass on and escape the clutches of the Rat-Child. But if a victim is drained completely before their death...” “Let me guess, they rise again, but as a fucking leech”, Kobold sighed and Abigale gave him a grim nod. “And there's no cure?” Another nod. “Should they die after that, their souls belong to the Nameless One and he won't give them up ever again”, she revealed. “His followers believe that given enough strength, he can break his chains, but that's a hypothesis at best, if a deeply disturbing one” “So, Elbaran was a vampire. According to him, so is Ulgraine of Mersley-Boarstribe, the woman he left Baliho for and some guy called Walmir”, Kobold explained. “And behind all of it stands this ominous queen, that woman Elbaran has fallen for. Got the impression she's not human either. Sounded impossibly perfect when he spoke of her” He shrugged. “Whatever she did to him, it left him nuts”, he added. “He knew that she is behind his misery, but he still couldn't bring himself to hate her. He's been completely obsessed with her” He stared down at his trembling hands, before taking a deep breath, trying to force himself to remain calm. Vampires! The very idea would have been hilarious coming from anyone else. Abigale was not above making fun of him, but not in this situation. If she said it was vampires, then he would at least try to believe her. “Is there any chance you're mistaken?", he asked with a trembling voice. "Vampires... they're bogeymen! They exist only in the scary stories you humans tell your children... don't they?" “Trust me, I'd love to be wrong”, Abigale replied. “And perhaps I am. There's many dark forces in this world and each of them could be behind our current plight. It's not as if we can ask Elbaran anymore, but what we know of him fits with what is written in here” The nervous tapping on the book stopped for a moment, as she opened the heavy tome. “There's a lot of superstition around vampires, myths mashed together with half-truths. Some tales consider them demons, but that couldn't be further from the truth, for not even demons would associate with someone who belongs to the Nameless One in body, mind and soul. They are cursed and pitiful, slaves to a god's hunger and not even the strongest of them can resist forever. The book says that when they are first turned, many vampires are abhorred by what they have become and they only start to feed when the hunger becomes unbearable. And while I cannot imagine what it feels like, the book is clear on the topic, this hunger cannot be resisted. Those who got turned against their will, they should be considered victims instead of vile monsters. In their old life, most of them were neither better nor worse than you and me” Kobold flashed her a toothy grin, though it barely overplayed his underlying fear. “Trust me, Abby, there's worlds between you and me when it comes to that”, he told her. “But I see what you mean. If your smart book doesn't mention a cure, does it mention how we can kill them? The stories speak of sunlight, but Elbaran attacked us during the day, so I guess that's not true” “Yes and no”, Abigale replied. “It's as we suspected already. That which the vampire believed in during his first life can kill him during his second. A vampire who believed in Praios will be burned by the sun, a humble worker can be killed by things sacred to Peraine, a craftsman by tools sacred to Ingerimm and so on” Kobold narrowed his eyes. “People believe in many different gods”, he brought up. “Sure, we got the priests who dedicate them to just one, but most men I've met worship several of the Twelve and believe in each of them” Abigale gave him a nod. “As such, newborn vampires hold many weaknesses”, she revealed. “Their old life is still present, they often cling to their memories, to the people they used to be, to their hopes, dreams and beliefs. They turn to many gods for comfort, only to be shunned by their deities, one after the other. As they grow older and stronger, they shed their former humanity and become slaves to their hunger and one by one, they forsake the belief in their gods until only a single god remains, the one they were most drawn to in life, the one whom they would have served in the afterlife if not for the Nameless One and his schemes. By then, they are called Arch-Vampires, the strongest, rarest and most dangerous of their kind” “Yeah, let's pray we don't meet one of those...”, Kobold mumbled, as he glanced at his cane. “So, Elbaran was a thug who beat people up for a living, so obviously he never really cared about Praios. Tsa too, I guess. But he was a worker of sorts, so he worshipped Peraine. I think Jobdan mentioned Travia too” He opened his hand again and the trembling had almost stopped. “I think I get it then”, he hissed and a smile, thin, but almost genuine, formed on his face. “Those vampire cunts are stronger than me and faster and you say some could kill me just by looking at me the wrong way, but if you're right, then none of that matters. I just need to find out who they were in life and what they believed in. Doesn't matter what they are now, they were human once and I've yet to meet the human who can outsmart me” A tired, but honest smile formed on Abigale's face. “And I'm going to help you as good as I can”, she promised. “Same goes for Darbrek. Last I saw him, he left for his house. Said something about sharpening his axe. I guess we'll see him again tomorrow” Kobold nodded half-heartedly, as his mind began to race. “So, sunlight for a vampire who believed in Praios during his old life”, he mumbled. “Apple wood for someone who believed in Peraine” “Running water for Efferd”, Abigale continued. “I guess that's where the myth comes from that vampires cannot cross running water. This might be the most dangerous aspect about them. They are stronger and faster than they were in their old life, they do not tire and can shrug off any injury unrelated to their weaknesses. But what truly terrifies me is how wrong most people are about them. There's no such thing as a weapon that can kill every vampire, no weakness they all have in common. They're unique, each of them, and I don't even want to imagine how many would-be vampire hunters had to learn this lesson the hard way” “Guess we got lucky”, Kobold mumbled and these words in the face of their utterly bleak situation actually made him smirk defiantly. “Those leeches will regret the day they got in our way” He glanced at the book on Abigale's lap and another cold chill ran down his spine. “There's one more thing I need to ask and then I really have to go and find that room Boswitz prepared for me. It's been a damn long night and if we're truly up against bloody vampires, then we could both need some rest” He narrowed his eyes. “But I gotta ask... why are you still here?” Abigale seemed surprised by the tone in his voice. Her eyes widened and briefly, she clenched one of her hands to a fist. “Is that distrust I hear?”, she asked and he did not react to her comment. They stared at each other for a moment, before Abigale shook her head. “I know how this must seem”, she spoke. “You have a deeply personal reason for being here and Eret is paid handsomely. Darbrek, well, I think he's just a good man at heart and he has been yearning for such an adventure for quite some time” “Don't take it personally, Abby”, Kobold sighed. “You're a decent woman, I know that much, but going up against vampires without hesitation... you're smarter than that. Too smart to throw your life away” She chuckled at his comment, before glancing down at her right hand, which had started to tremble. “Who says I'm not hesitating?”, she asked. “Truth be told, I'm scared, Kobold. Utterly terrified of what we're up against. Death is already a bleak prospect, but against vampires, we could easily suffer a fate even worse” She shook her head. “I don't blame you for being distrustful, so I'm going to let you in on a little secret”, she revealed. “I want to help the people here and perhaps we are the only ones who can. But I got ulterior motives as well. Nothing that has to concern you and certainly nothing unsavoury, but dangerous as this situation might be, it is a chance as well and I plan to use it” Kobold grinned and it was partially genuine and partially just him baring his fangs. “I do like you, Abby”, he complimented her. “Keep the rest of your secret for now, but the day might come where I'll ask for juicy details” She nodded at his remark. “Perhaps then I'll tell you”, she promised. “But unfortunately, I know you too well to just trust you with all of my secrets right away” His smile widened and carefully he rose from his seat on the stairs, taking a moment to stretch his old bones. “I always knew you were clever”, he spoke. “But I meant it, Abby, we both need some rest. Get up, find some place to sleep. Hells, you look like you need it” He gave her a nod, which she reciprocated, before he continued his way upstairs. It was only after he was out of her sight that his expression dropped again. While he knew he could trust her and Darbrek and especially Eret, this whole situation was way out of his comfort zone. He was used to deal with humans, to defend himself against them, to use them to his benefit, he knew how they thought and what to expect of them. Vampires though... that was something else. With anyone else, he would have still doubted their very existence, but he knew better than not to trust Abigale in this. And for the first time in many years, Kobold was out of his comfort zone. Part of his was screaming inside, telling him to stop being a fool, to pick up his things, wake Eret and leave Baliho and the Meadows behind before this madness would take him as it took Tsaja, Arris and countless others. If Abigale was right, then their fate was not even the worst here, for he could end up just like Elbaran. And that was a fate Kobold wouldn't wish upon his many enemies. But he did not run. He did not leave and though the thought did not leave his mind, he didn't even seriously entertain it, not as he struggled to climb those uncomfortably high human stairs, nor as he crept through the hallway, nor as he finally found the room where Eret was resting. His companion was not asleep, instead he was sitting on his bed, carefully inspecting his crossbow. “Hey”, Eret greeted him and Kobold gave him a brief nod, before he sunk down on the other bed, opposing Eret. “Hey”, he mumbled, while Eret leant back. Slowly, the man placed the crossbow down, not breaking eye contact with the goblin in the process. “Is he dead?”, he then asked and Kobold sighed. “Yeah...”, he replied. “Before he died, he told me that Ulgraine of Mersley-Boarstribe is involved in this. Her father is the Baron of Menzhome, so that's going to be our next stop” Eret shrugged. “Should have taken Boswitz' bet”, he stated nonchalantly. “He was willing to wager a pretty sum on you leaving the Meadows after tonight. I knew you'd stay, but I cannot afford losing that coin” “I'm so glad to have your trust, my faithful grunt”, Kobold sighed in a dry tone. “So, you're fine with this? Us staying here and helping, I mean?” Once again, Eret shrugged. “This is not how you usually do things, but I'm not here to complain”, he told him. “Truth be told, you ran from less dangerous situations. If you're asking for my opinion though, it's good that we stay. This land is suffering and if we can make a difference... hells, your coin is nice and all, but I'd sleep better knowing that we did all we reasonably could to help” Kobold nodded and slightly moved his head to stare at the ceiling. “Perhaps we already did...”, he mumbled. “Abby, she... well, she found another tome. This time, she is confident about Elbaran... about what he is” He paused for a moment, before glancing at Eret. The sellsword was sitting there, outwardly bored, but Kobold could tell that he was listening carefully. “Did they tell you about vampires in that frozen homeland of yours?” This time, Eret shook his head. “There's few stories of value coming from the Nivesians”, he spat. “And they all revolve around wolves. Vampires though? Southern fairytales” He noticed the expression on Kobold's face and for the briefest of moments, his eyes widened. “You're kidding me, aren't you?” For just a second, he seemed less like the jaded cynic whom Kobold knew and appreciated and more like a man in his early twenties, not even nearly as experienced as he'd like to be, face to face with something he did not consider possible. “Trust me, boy, I'd love for all of this to be a bad joke”, Kobold replied. “But Abigale's certain about it. We're up against vampires” He knew Eret would not freak out, but he still seemed visibly uncomfortable with these news. “Fuck...”, the Nivesian then mumbled. “That is... unexpected. But not a problem. We killed one of them, we can kill more. They're not invincible, right?” “Dangig was winning against Elbaran before he got taken out by that woman”, Kobold replied. “And it makes sense, come to think of it. Elbaran was a thug, his victims were scrawny little shits such as Arris. Just because he's stronger and faster all of a sudden doesn't mean he knows how to fight against a skilled opponent” He shook his head. “But I doubt they're all going to be as easy as him. Call it a gut feeling, but boy, we are in for some shit” Eret's mouth tightened. “You always know what to say, eh?”, he chuckled and Kobold narrowed his eyes. “Whereas you're a ray of sunshine as always!”, he spat, before he leant back into his bed. It was not particularly comfortable, but he was still glad he could rest his aching leg for a bit. “Seriously though, that was good work today, boy”, he mumbled. “We'll be in for some shit, aye, but I get the feeling it'll all work out in the end” He was lying through his teeth here, of course, but then again, he had always been good at that. It did nothing to ease his own concerns, but he knew Eret had to hear that just now. The young man gave him a nod, as he put the crossbow down, before he lay down on his bed. “If you say so”, he spoke and for once, Kobold could not tell if he believed him or not. “I know that vampires or not, we'll find a way to kill these beasts, whatever they might be” He let out a loud yawn. “For now, I really need to get some rest and from the looks of it, so do you”, he mumbled. “For the record, I expect a proper explanation tomorrow” Kobold nodded half-heartedly, before he turned to the wall next to him. It was warm here, not too comfortable but decent enough. And yet, despite his exhaustion and even though Eret had obviously no problem with falling asleep, Kobold remained awake for most of the night, tossing and turning as he tried to find some rest. It was the early hours of the morning when he finally fell into a brief, dreamless slumber.
He awoke almost as tired as he had fallen asleep and not long after Eret had gotten up. The revelation of the last night still hung over his mood like a dark cloud and he barely spoke, not during their brief breakfast or as he was getting ready for the journey ahead. This entire situation still shook him to his core. It was not even the mere existence of vampires that unnerved him so much, there were stranger and darker things in this world. But there was only one type of self-sacrificing buffoon willing to face such beasts. It took a hero's heart to fight them and if there was one thing Kobold certainly wasn't, it was a hero. Proudly so, for heroes were the sort to throw their lives away. There was fury within him for what had been done to Tsaja and Arris, fury even for what had been done to Elbaran, but there was fear as well. Yes, Kobold could not deny it, but everything about this genuinely scared him. The Nameless One, his servants, the prospect of dying at their hands, none of that was something he'd even think about during better days. But the days were bleak now, as cold as the weather and Kobold saw no other way but forward. As he stepped out of Boswitz' mansion, he noticed that the gates to the street stood open now. Boswitz was there, side by side with Abigale. Even for him, his expression was unusually dour as he listened to her words and Kobold could only guess what she was telling him about. Notably, the cattle baron was not dressed for the weather, with merely one mantle protecting him from the cold, whereas Abigale wore a hooded cloak of grey fur and gloves of the same colour. Even before he reached them, this was enough to clue him in that, thankfully, Jobdan Boswitz would not accompany them for the next step of their journey. As he walked across the courtyard, he could see a sizeable carriage blocking off most of the street, made of fine, dark wood, with a pair of sturdy horses in front, each twice as tall as Kobold. Boswitz moved one hand over the wood as he spoke to Abigale, though his brief expression of joy faded into one of displeasure as he spotted Kobold. “So nice of you to join us, Redfur”, he growled. “I prepared a ride to bring you to Menzhome” Kobold could not suppress a sigh of relief. “So nice of you to think of my leg, Jobdan”, he replied in a sharp tone and the cattle baron rolled his eyes. “I spoke to Miss Abigale about this, though unlike you, I am not so quick to believe her outlandish claim”, Boswitz continued. “Vampires don't exist. They're just another scary story told by superstitious peasants” “Then what do you think Elbaran was?”, Abigale asked. “He was not human, not anymore, that much we can agree on” Boswitz shook his head. “Can we?”, he replied. “Because unless a mage or a priest tells me that he was no longer human, I don't know what to believe in. I've known Elbaran for many years and I know for a fact he was a proper human being” “That supposed to mean non-humans are improper?”, the unusually chipper voice of Darbrek sounded from behind the carriage and a second later, he appeared, a huge smile beneath his beard. Boswitz rolled his eyes, but he could not entirely hide his smile. “It means exactly what you're making of it, Darbrek”, he spoke. “With you by their side, I at least don't have to worry about any of you losing sight of your true goal” “And what would that be, Jobdan?”, Kobold asked, as he carefully inspected the carriage. Understandably, he was not a good rider and it wasn't even so much because of his leg, but because of his scent. Horses tolerated his kind at best, but riding one to its full potential was simply beyond any of them. Even the most trained steeds grew uneasy with a goblin on their back. As such, he preferred the more comfortable, if significantly slower and more expensive carriage to a journey by horseback anytime. And for what it was worth, this one seemed finely crafted. As they spoke, two people followed after Darbrek, a man and a woman, both clad in thick furs appropriate for such a journey. To his surprise, Kobold recognized the woman, even though she hid her long, brown hair beneath a thick hat and even though most human faces looked interchangeable to him. Cilie Caskbrand, barmaid of The Emperor and the Ork, whom he had last seen a few days ago, when first he arrived in this city. She had horribly pale skin, as most humans had, but her cheeks were red, likely from crying and when he carefully inspected the man by her side, he immediately realized what this was about. The man was young, almost still a child, but his facial features showed a clear similarity to another man he recently had the displeasure of meeting. Messy hair, raven black and partially hidden beneath a red kerchief, with strong facial features. There was an uncanny resemblance to Dangig Skywood, perhaps a decade younger and hopefully with a much better attitude. “Cilie”, he greeted the woman and she gave him a nod. “Kobold”, she replied and her voice was only superficially calm, with a clear tremble beneath. “You were there, weren't you? When he was... taken. The others wouldn't tell me what happened, only that he might still be alive” Kobold gave her a reluctant nod, before he glanced at Boswitz. “Have you told them?”, he asked. Jobdan gave him a brief nod. “Only as much as necessary”, he clarified. “Kobold, it seems you already know Cilie. I understand she and Dangig were spoken for” This time, the girl's red cheeks were at least partially a blush, as she shook her head. “It's not...!”, she clarified. “He's... we... I know he can be an ass, but I love him and if anything happens to him...” Tears welled up within her eyes, as the young man gently pat her onto the back. “And I'm Relin”, he introduced himself. “Relin Skywood” Kobold understood at once. “Dangig's brother”, he deduced and Relin gave him a nod. “Younger brother”, he clarified. “I know you and my brother have not been on good terms, but I for one am glad to meet you” It was almost jarring to hear these words spoken in a genuinely friendly tone from someone who looked so much like Dangig, but Kobold knew best never to judge a book by its cover. “Name's Kobold”, he replied. “Pleasure's all mine, as long as you're not like your brother” Relin's smile faded. “He's... he's not all bad”, he mumbled. “Dangig's the only family I have left. He had to sacrifice a lot when we grew up and I... I don't know what happened, but if he's still alive, I need to do whatever I can to find him and bring him back” Behind them, Abigale shook her head, while Kobold narrows his eyes. “How old are you, boy?”, he asked and Relin straightened his back. “Seventeen”, he spoke. “Almost” Immediately, Kobold shook his head. “Out of the question”, he growled. “You're young even by the standards of my race. And Cilie, you're...” He slightly flinched at her unusually sharp glare. “Have you ever been out of Baliho?” She shook her head. “Does it matter?”, she asked coldly. “Dangig was with you that night. I don't know what happened, but now you're standing here and he's... gone. When Boswitz told me, I knew I couldn't just stand by while the man I love is in danger. He'd always throw himself against anyone who threatened me and doing the same for him is the least I can do” Kobold shook his head. “I don't like this”, he admitted. “Let me be blunt, you'll get yourself killed out there. You too, Relin. Your brother was... is a fine warrior, but you don't give me that impression” Cilie crossed her arms. “Nor do you, Kobold”, she reminded him. Before Kobold could reply, Darbrek gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Eh, there's no sense arguing with them, my friend”, he spoke. “Besides, do they not deserve to fight for their family?” This time, the goblin sighed. “It's your funeral”, he mumbled. “But don't blame me when things get messy” He glanced at Jobdan Boswitz. “I suppose this is fine with you?” The cattle baron gave him a quick nod. “I was the one who suggested Relin. Miss Cilie decided to tag along and considering that I'm not her employer, I had no say in turning her away”, he explained. “Relin will drive the carriage” “You can do that, boy?”, Kobold asked, to which Relin nodded enthusiastically. “Before all this, I wanted to join the Riders of Beilunk”, he revealed. “Delivering messages across all Aventuria, by horse and by carriage. Always preferred the latter” Kobold rolled his eyes. “And Jobdan gets to weasel his way out of paying a carriage driver, right?” The cattle baron nodded without even a hint of shame. “It's two birds with one stone”, he replied. “That being said, this carriage will be my contribution to your journey, but it'll bring you no further than Menzhome. I have a friend in the city who will be taking the damn thing from you then. Can't have you driving around the entire realm with my carriage” “Menzhome is all we need”, Kobold replied. “I got a few questions for the Baroness of Mersley-Boarstribe. We'll see where our journey will take us from there, but for the time being, your help is much appreciated” He flinched. “Yeah, I died a little inside just by saying that”, he sighed, but to his own surprise, he extended a clawed hand and Jobdan actually shook it. “Thank you, Jobdan. You may have been moderately tolerable during this endeavour” “Same”, Boswitz growled. “I'm calling us even, but make no mistake. Once this is over, I don't want to see your ugly mug in my city ever again” They separated again, not with any more fondness between them, but perhaps with a modicum of respect. “And for the sake of the Meadows, I shall pray for your success” “Well, ain't that just grand, he's praying for us!”, Kobold exclaimed. “Pray tell, what's the fastest way to Menzhome? I can't wait to get out of this shithole you call a city” He glanced at Cilie and Relin, his unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome travelling companions. It was not so much that he disliked them, but he disliked travelling with a larger entourage. Most of the time, it had been just him and Eret. The one time it hadn't... well, he didn't like thinking about how badly that had gone. But in the current situation, having to face vampires, of all things, he would prefer a smaller group. Him, Eret, maybe Abigale and Darbrek. But Cilie, she was a fine woman, but he was certain she'd run the moment things would get dangerous. And Relin was almost still a child and Kobold felt at least moderately uncomfortable with putting him into such danger. “The fastest road will be the Imperial Road, it'll lead you all the way to Menzhome and further to the south if you so desire”, Boswitz explained. “A proper road, fortified and by far the safest in the duchy. Along the way, you'll have taverns and outposts, smaller hamlets and farmsteads every couple miles. Though the carriage is equipped for such occasions, you won't have to sleep in it for a single night until you reach Menzhome” “But?”, Kobold asked, sensing that the cattle baron was hiding something in his sentence. Boswitz chuckled. “But you lot might want to avoid Oldnorthing”, he continued. “It's the only larger settlement between Baliho and Menzhome. Used to be a prospering town, recently they even got the right to build a town wall, but things have changed ever since the Drakesfield disaster. Oldnorthing has the questionable honour of being located halfway between Drakesfield and Auraleth, the Banray fortress in northern Darpatia. Our good friends, the witch-hunters have a fortified outpost close to Oldnorthing and I heard they're questioning anyone who travels on the road these days” “On an Imperial Road?”, Kobold asked. “Well, if the Banray wishes to waste its time, so be it. But that also means Nadarie hasn't taken that road. Those Banray lowlifes are a pain to deal with, but they'd stop her if they'd see her carrying Dangig around. Is there another way?” Again, Boswitz gave him a nod. “A series of smaller roads through the villages and hamlets of the Barony of Menzhome”, he explained. “That'll be a less comfortable journey, might take you one or two days longer and while I am certain the Imperial Road will be the safest, there's no saying what lurks on the smaller roads these days” “This Nadarie...”, Relin interjected. “If she took Dangig, we should try to follow her, even if that means not taking the main road” Cilie nodded in agreement, though Kobold was less convinced. “Could the horses take the detour?”, he asked. “I bet even the Imperial Road will be frozen over in the current weather” “Sure they can”, Boswitz claimed. “Those are Luther and Leomar, they're purebred Trallopian Giants. They got a gentle temper, but make no mistake, they could carry a fully-armoured knight into battle without breaking a sweat. In the summer months, they work in one of my lumber camps to the north, in the winter months, they pulled this carriage through worse weather” “I see...”, Kobold mumbled. His options were clear then. The direct road to Menzhome was the fastest and safest, no doubt. However, there was the risk of being questioned by the Banray and he did not get along with them by virtue of being a goblin. If they decided to stop them, things could get a lot more complicated. The detour meanwhile would take longer and Boswitz was right with one thing, they had no idea what danger would lurk near the smaller roads these days... [Travel directly over the main road] [Take the detour to avoid Oldnorthing]
|
|
|
Post by InGenNateKenny on Feb 15, 2021 6:57:32 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road] Safety is good, and the prospect of encountering witch-hunters sounds like a chance to see some familiar faces.
Ugh, vampires. My least favorite classic movie monster. Screw vampires. And Walmir. Oh no, not him. That's not good. But it explains a few things.
I don't like the baggage of Relin and Cilie. Bleh. Boswitz and Kobold have an interesting relationship dynamic that I greatly enjoy. Their positions of influence and power appear in different ways in it; very interesting.
Guess we made the right choice with Fredo, eh? Also, I find it funny that apparently the idea of vampires being real in this universe is highly questionable when like every other fantasy creature is out there (side note: I hope there are yetis. They are cool).
|
|
|
Post by drdestroyer18 on Feb 15, 2021 10:40:06 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road]
|
|
|
Post by diversegnu on Feb 16, 2021 23:39:42 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road]
Eret mentioning wolves makes me think that werewolves will also be making an appearance, can't have vampires without a couple of werewolves running around. As for taking the main road, my only reasoning is that I want to maximize the horses chance of survival.
|
|
|
Post by Tales93 on Feb 17, 2021 3:00:50 GMT
[Take the detour to avoid Oldnorthing]
Poor Relin and Cilie. They are probably going to die.
|
|
|
Post by GMS Freeman on Feb 17, 2021 8:26:45 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road]
|
|
|
Post by TheAPlegends on Feb 17, 2021 17:04:47 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road]
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 18, 2021 23:00:41 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road] Safety is good, and the prospect of encountering witch-hunters sounds like a chance to see some familiar faces. Ugh, vampires. My least favorite classic movie monster. Screw vampires. And Walmir. Oh no, not him. That's not good. But it explains a few things. I don't like the baggage of Relin and Cilie. Bleh. Boswitz and Kobold have an interesting relationship dynamic that I greatly enjoy. Their positions of influence and power appear in different ways in it; very interesting. Guess we made the right choice with Fredo, eh? Also, I find it funny that apparently the idea of vampires being real in this universe is highly questionable when like every other fantasy creature is out there (side note: I hope there are yetis. They are cool). Possibly, yes. Ucurian Jago leads the Banray order and he has a certain interest in keeping track of their newest outpost in the Meadows. At the same time, meeting him would be like going into an Amazon warehouse and randomly meeting Jeff Bezos, it's definitely not the most likely thing. Though both, Jago and his more reasonable colleague Inquisitor da Vanya have a role to play in future events, so they are definitely going to reappear at some point. Vampires indeed, but not exactly the ones from the classic movies, so I hope they will still be enjoyable. These combine certain aspects from different vampire myths in the form of their curses, though they should, I hope, work as their own take on the topic. That being said, I have hidden a lot of references to classic vampire tales and movies in previous parts, so much that I actually feared someone would stumble upon the truth before I revealed it in this part. In general, these vampires are not undead, they are soul-stealing slaves to the Dark Eye version of Satan and they are overall tragic figures. And yes, Walmir... he's one of them, that much is clear now and nothing about him is ever good news. He'll be seen again in the near future and then we'll get a lot more exposition about him. Kobold actually has a bit of a soft spot for Cilie, whom he has met during his previous stays in Baliho and who has always treated him decently, which is why he is so opposed to taking her and Relin with them. He knows it will be dangerous and he'll certainly have enough trouble just keeping himself alive. As for Boswitz, I actually enjoyed his and Kobold's dynamic more than I expected to when I first planned this chapter, where Boswitz was planned to be more of a thorn in Kobold's side. But I found myself really liking their interactions together and I'm glad you enjoy them as well! Yes, you definitely made the right choice with Fredo. His soul has been taken from him and is now controlled by the Nameless One, so unless the group finds a way to defeat a literal god (something so difficult that not even all the others gods combined could do it for good), he is beyond saving. It is a tragic, deeply unfair fate, but as far as Abigale knows at least, there is no cure. And yeah, a lot of things actually exist in the setting. That's where it becomes clear that the source material is a Pen and Paper RPG (one that was outright created as a german answer to D&D in the late 80's), over the decades several dozens of authors have added a lot of fantastic creatures to the setting. Of course, from an in-universe perspective that doesn't necessarily mean that everyone has to believe in everything. However, most people are more than willing to believe in the existence of vampires, but the smart and experienced part of the populace (which, given that it's a medieval setting, is quite low) usually dismisses their beliefs. There are a lot of tales, after all, but very little hard evidence. Kobold is rational and not the slightest bit superstitious. In return, he looks down upon superstition and folklore, something that runs rampant in the Meadows. Vampires exist, but as Abigale has said here, they are extremely rare (or at least they used to be before the current events), which stands in contrast to the heavy amount of rumoured vampire sightings in the local myths and fairytales. 99% of those supposed sightings are false and most tales about vampires are so outlandish that it becomes easy for someone such as Kobold to make the mistake of dismissing the remaining 1% of stories that might have some truth to them. He believes in some things that genuinely exist (werewolves for example, who are not more common than vampires but far better documented and studied) and dismisses others as nothing but superstition. With the recent revelations, this turned out to be a mistake. Vampires exist. Werewolves certainly do. Demons and ghosts appeared in the story before. There's even a race of sentient and weirdly cute newts distantly related to the lizardfolk, the so-called Zilits. No, really, here's a picture. Yetis? You bet they exist, there's good reason why the island to the north of Aventuria is known as Yeti's Land. They are an off-shoot of the Troll race and are even rarer and less numerous than their distant cousins, but their existence, while not necessarily known to the generally uneducated common populace, is well-documented among scholars of the northern lands.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 18, 2021 23:17:13 GMT
[Travel directly over the main road] Eret mentioning wolves makes me think that werewolves will also be making an appearance, can't have vampires without a couple of werewolves running around. As for taking the main road, my only reasoning is that I want to maximize the horses chance of survival. As I said to InGen above, werewolves exist in the setting. They are most common among the Nivesians, though they themselves heavily differentiate between different kinds. First, there's the so-called Wolf-Blooded, who are capable of willingly transforming into a Rime Wolf, a sub-species considered particularly sacred to the wolf-worshipping Nivesians, but they are highly respected and also usually remain in control of themselves during the transformation. Then, there are classic werewolves, who suffer from lycantrophy, an incurable disease that is rumoured to have been brought to Aventuria by a fallen Sky Wolf as a deliberate attempt to twist the blessing of the Wolf-Blood into something vile and dangerous. Those are the proper werewolves, who turn into a creature that is half human and half wolf and they are barely in control of their actions during their transformation, if at all. They are rare though, just as rare as vampires and outside of the Nivesian lands most of them can be found in the wilds of Tobria. And well, while I cannot confirm or deny that they will appear in this chapter, it is at least a possibility. As for your reasoning, I completely understand ^^ The main road is going to be the safer option for the horses, that much cannot be denied. It won't be without it's own type of danger, but it'll be the type less likely to just kill two good horses.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 18, 2021 23:19:39 GMT
[Take the detour to avoid Oldnorthing]Poor Relin and Cilie. They are probably going to die. I would not be so quick to count them out. Of course, I cannot comment on the exact fate of those characters, but their general chances of surviving this are not worse than Kobold's. Their reason for going with Kobold, noble and understandable as it may be, might not be too well thought out, but that doesn't mean they are incapable. In fact, I'd say they are more well-equipped for such a journey than even Kobold himself, who is an ageing and physically impaired member of a species that is already not known for their strength and resilience. The only one who is experienced to travel during the current weather and who has faced actual proper danger before is Eret, with Kobold, Cilie, Relin, Darbrek and Abigale all being essentially civilians in over their heads.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 25, 2021 16:32:40 GMT
The Voting is closed!
Kobold is going to travel directly over the main road Well, what I can say here is that the main road will come with its own share of danger, though it might be danger of a different kind, something Kobold could be a bit better prepared for. What I can say is that both routes will also offer their own kind of reward in the form of useful information, though these snippets of information are, I'm afraid, mutually exclusive. One thing that definitely applies is that travelling over the main road will be more comfortable and with his bad leg, Kobold is definitely going to appreciate that. The next part should be out later today. I took a few days off to finish my FoT pre-chapter planning, but now I'm ready to finish the next Dark Eye part and it's coming along nicely. It is, of course, an Yveshin part, picking up where we last saw him. Last time, he and his new acquaintance, the half-elven healer Sanurius, headed up to the Alackskeep, formerly a border fortress of the Church of Rondra, which has been destroyed by the Priest Emperors centuries ago and which has gained a dreadful reputation ever since. There are rumours of a monster, the Wraith of the Alackskeep, that roams the ruin and kills all who venture too close to it, but for some reason, Naeem Umer wanted to meet Yveshin just there. As they arrived at the keep, Yveshin and Sanurius soon spotted ghostly figures, orks who were killed by the Wraith. The ork ghosts mistook Yveshin for a mysterious elf-knight who apparently betrayed them and quickly attacked. During the struggle, Yveshin caught a glimpse of one of the orks' memories. This ork was once named Rassan, a devout follower of Tairach, the orkish god of blood, death and the moon. Rassan and his three companions were sent to the Alackskeep by an elven queen to negotiate an alliance with the Wraith, but the creature attacked them without even listening to their offer. This creature looked seemingly human, with the exception of disturbing serpent-like fangs and inhuman eyes that lacked pupils (compare them to Fredo's eyes from Iiro's latest part). After it overpowered and killed most of the orks, the creature taunted a dying Rassan, before realizing that the orks did not come alone. The elf-knight who sent the orks to their death had followed them. Now introducing himself as none other than Asch, he offered the creature, whom he addresses as Walmir of Reeveshoff, an alliance with his queen. Walmir was not interested, however, considering her venture to be foolish and ill-fated. The last thing Rassan saw before dying was Asch and Walmir preparing for a fight. As you know that Asch is alive and well in Luna's parts, it can be assumed that he won. After experiencing this memory, Yveshin regained his consciousness and with the help of Sanurius, he managed to rush to the ruined keep, where Naeem was already waiting for them. He had arrived a bit earlier, but the vengeful ghosts that are now bound to the courtyard have prevented him from leaving again. However, he confirmed that the Wraith, while undoubtedly an incredibly dangerous and evil creature, is no longer in the Alackskeep. Before they could hold a longer conversation, however, the ghosts had to be dealt with. With two mages by his side, Yveshin decided in favour of the more difficult but lasting option to put them to rest for good, instead of just temporarily banishing them, which would have been comparably easy to achieve.
|
|
|
Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Feb 28, 2021 3:59:51 GMT
Yveshin Side by side, Yveshin, Naeem and Sanurius left the ruined keep once again, stepping into the snow-covered courtyard, where the four ghostly orks were waiting for them already. The spirits were silent and still, just staring at them, but there was a piercing rage coming from them just as well. Briefly, one of them was flickering, before reappearing at the same spot. A wind was howling across the courtyard, cold enough even for Yveshin to shiver. Or perhaps it was knowledge of what they were about to attempt. “Are you sure about this?”, Naeem asked, as he and Yveshin exchanged a brief glance. Without hesitation, the elf nodded. “It's the right thing to do”, he replied. “Those orks are suffering” Sanurius shook his head. “They would never return the favour...”, he mumbled. “But I swore an oath as a healer to help those in need. Perhaps even those creatures deserve our mercy” He straightened his back, before he gave them a grim nod. “Ready when you are” “You know what we have to do”, Yveshin spoke, without taking his gaze off the orks. He recognized each of them from Rassan's memories, even if their features were twisted now, disfigured after Walmir's savage attack. The colours on them, from the black of their fur to the damp, leathery brown of their clothes and their green cloaks, were impossibly dull, as if light itself was trying to keep away from these creatures. As expected, all four of them were staring at him as he was walking down the stairs, while completely ignoring Sanurius and Naeem. He approached them unarmed and with both hands raised, knowing from Naeem's tale that even the slightest act of aggression would lead to instant retaliation when dealing with such beings. And even now, it was quite likely that they would just charge at him. “Elf-knight”, one of the orks hissed and Yveshin recognized him as Rassan. His dislocated jaw was trembling with anger. “Liar!”, another hissed through the remnants of his smashed skull. “Traitor” Yveshin narrowed his eyes, as he knew that now, the hardest part would come. As he approached the ghosts, they were focussed on him entirely. Naeem took position on one side of the courtyard, while Sanurius hurried over to the far end. The snow was hindering him and with each step, he sunk in deeply, but Yveshin could only hope that he would reach his position quickly. “I have come indeed!”, he intoned and a cold shiver ran down his spine. Talking like a shakagra was unnatural for his kind. Even just the attempt would lead him dangerously close to the dhaza, the force which controlled those monsters, the ones who looked like elves while being anything but. But for this to work, he had to think like the shakagra and speak and act like him too. For as long as Naeem and Sanurius needed, he had to deceive these ghosts. They had to hate him as they hated the shakagra who betrayed them. It would be easier to actually free them from their shackles by abusing a personal connection, though he had a hard time understanding how such an act of cruelty could ever lead to something good. It was not the way of his people, but he trusted Naeem enough to try it. “I am disappointed in you, Rassan!”, he continued and the ghost narrowed his eyes. “You dare...”, he howled in return. The creature flickered and disappeared, before reappearing immediately in front of Yveshin. The elf would have staggered back, trying to get some distance between him and the vengeful ghost, to get any sort of advantage in the inevitable confrontation. But he knew well enough that this was now how a shakagra would act. As such, he remained standing and he even managed to give the ork a cold, confident smirk. “I did not give you permission to die, Blackfur”, he spat. “Not before you deliver your message” He shook his head. “But he slaughtered the four of you with such ease and now you're angry at me?”, he continued, even if it pained him to mock them like that. “Be angry at yourself for such a pitiful display!” That had been a bit too much, as the elf immediately realized. Rassan let out a howl of rage, the hollow tone echoing through his mind. The other orks joined in with their own high-pitched howls, just as Rassan threw himself at the elf. Yveshin immediately raised his hands to defend himself, but the ork passed right through him. Where it touched the elf's skin, a biting cold forced its way through his limbs. It was similar to the time where he had broken through the ice while crossing a mountain river back home. Back then, it had been his sister who had dragged him out. But Xeuna was not here to save him now and Yveshin had never missed her more. All he could do was to keep up the act just a moment longer, while ghostly fingers slashed through his body. Where they passed through, they left no physical injury, else Rassan would have torn him to pieces already, but there was nonetheless a weight to the ork's attack, forcing him back and sending him staggering to the ground. They left him with a numb chill where they passed through his body, slowly tearing away warmth and life. He tried to open his mouth, just as the ghost rammed its fingers into his throat. Immediately, Yveshin could only gasp, but no tone left his mouth, as each breath felt like filling his lungs with ice. The twisted features of the ork stared down at him in pure hatred. “No more words, elf-knight”, he spat. “Now you will pay” He raised his hand again and Yveshin's eyes widened, as briefly, air filled his aching lungs. Rassan stared down at him with violent anger in his glare, while the other ghostly orks had gathered around him. Even though they were not attacking him as their companion did, he felt the hateful cold that radiated from them. Hate... a true, strong bond, something Naeem and Sanurius were using right now to sever the link that tied these ghosts to the place of their deaths. “Enough!”, Naeem roared from the other end of the courtyard. The ghost briefly glanced at him, though before he could lunge at Yveshin again, the druid pointed his staff at him. Immediately, Rassan's body language changed. The ghost tensed up, slight surprise on his face and with a sigh of relief, Yveshin noticed that Sanurius was apparently finished as well. “Your presence here is unnatural!”, the druid intoned. “By the might of Sumu, by the six elements and the seven spheres!” On the other end of the courtyard, Sanurius raised his staff as well. “By Hesinde and Boron and by the Mark of Mada!”, he added. “By the hatred that binds you to this place and by the divine laws that demand you to pass on!” Now, both continued their invocation simultaneously. “We sever that which holds you here”, they shouted. “Go, kin of Brazoragh and Tairach, go and find your peace!” Rassan's eyes widened and around him, his companions began to twitch and tremble. Their shapes, already half-transparent, began to flicker and though Yveshin understood little of these things, he could clearly see that they were fading, slowly, but steadily. Not just fading, but changing as well. Rassan's broken jaw began to realign itself, splintered bone growing back together, snapping back into place, torn flesh mending itself. “No...”, the ork mumbled. “You must pay for your treachery, you must...” He glanced at Yveshin and in an instant, the unnatural hatred on his face faded, replaced by a look of confusion. “You are not the elf-knight...”, he realized. Yveshin shook his head and he frowned, as his lungs still ached with each breath. There was a chill in his veins and it faded only slowly. “I am more an elf than he could ever be”, he stated and the ork gave him a slow nod. “Perhaps”, he admitted. “Perhaps you can avenge us...” He narrowed his eyes. “To the south of this land. A lake. A small island in its centre, with a tower on it”, he growled, as his form began to fade ever quicker. To his right, the ork whom Yveshin now recognized as Morchai let out a sigh of relief and just then, he was gone. “There you will find the elf-knight”, Rassan growled. “Him and his Queen of Deceit” Yveshin's eyes widened and despite the pain in his lungs, he gasped. “His queen is here?”, he exclaimed and Rassan gave him a quiet nod. “I shall rest now, elf, but I will never forget”, the ork spoke, as he closed his eyes. “Tairach awaits” The wind around them picked up, growing stronger and louder, tearing at Yveshin's clothes and hair, as the absolute hatred on Rassan's face steadily faded into serenity. There was a sigh on the wind, echoing all over the courtyard, as the ork faded, following his companions, free of this place at last. The wind died down the moment he disappeared and once more, an eerie silence engulfed the Alackskeep. Yveshin remained there, breathing heavily and with a pain in his chest. He only slowly got up as Naeem and Sanurius approached him. The healer had a look of concern on his face. “Is everything alright?”, he asked and Yveshin gave him a quick nod. “I think I'll be fine”, he spoke, even if he still winced after taking a particularly deep breath. “That was just in time” As he spoke these words, a painful coughing forced its way up from his throat. “Well, I don't like the sound of that...”, Sanurius mumbled. “I'll take a look at you once we're back at my hut” He glanced at the sky, which had grown increasingly darker during their stay here. “Speaking of, we should hurry. I'd rather not spend the night at this cursed place” “I had the pleasure already”, Naeem interjected. “With the Wraith gone, it's not worse than any other crumbling ruin that litters this land, but I agree. I'd much prefer a modest and warm abode, especially if it there's a warm fire involved” Sanurius gave him a surprised smile as he slowly helped Yveshin back to his feet. “I thought you druids prefer the wilds”, he replied. To this, Naeem shook his head. “Not during the winter”, he explained. “It's true that my order lives in harmony with nature, but that does not mean we are immune to this biting cold. We have ways to protect ourselves against such a brutal winter, but as my old master used to say, the best protection is a simple, sturdy hut” “Then you shall have a place by my fire, druid”, Sanurius offered. “I'm hardly a heavy drinker, but I have a decent brandy for such occasions. Get some warmth back into those bones of ours” He patted Yveshin on the chest and the elf winced. The sensation wasn't exactly painful, but it still sent icy shivers through his body. “You'll be fine in no time”, he promised and there was something deeply soothing in his voice, as if his words alone could ease the pain. “We just need to get you back to the village, you'll need warmth and a good meal” With a grim frown, Yveshin glanced around the ruined keep. He had seen the monster that lived here when he got a glimpse of Rassan's memories and he had seen the one who had challenged it in the end, the one whom Rassan had mistaken for an elf. Perhaps it was an easy mistake for an ork, his people and the shakagra looked alike. But there was more to being an elf than just their looks. And when it came to their mind, the shakagra were rotten and vile, as far away from elven minds as possible. They lived only to serve their queen and if Rassan was right, if she was here... “There was one thing he said...”, he mumbled, as the trio hurried off the courtyard. “You two know more of this land than I do, perhaps you can make sense of it. He said something of a tower, south of here, standing on an island in the middle of a lake” He frowned as a cold wind pushed against him the moment they left the courtyard again, as if the wind itself finally dared to howl around them once again. “That's where we can find the ones behind all this” “To the south?”, Sanurius asked. “That's odd. There's a lot of border towers here in the Meadows, but the clear majority has been built to the west and to the north, where the duchy borders on the Orkland and the Valley of Svelt. Though I assume the ork knows which direction the Orkland lies” He shook his head. “But to the south lies the rest of the Middenrealm and the Meadows has been part of it for a thousand years. There's no need for towers there, much less one standing on an island” “Do you have a map of the duchy, healer?”, Naeem asked and Sanurius gave him a nod at once. “Sure do”, he confirmed. “I know there's a lot of lakes to the south, much smaller than Lake Lamprey to the east of course and probably completely frozen over by now. They should be on my map, so once we're back, we can take a look” “Also, there's...”, Yveshin began, but he paused, as he looked from Sanurius to Naeem. Rassan's words implied that the queen of the shakagra was here, in these lands, but the thought was equal parts terrifying and outlandish. Though he was young by the standards of his race, not even the oldest and wisest of his clan could remember a time where She-who-poisons-the-world had left her bleak city beneath the eternal ice of the far north. She was a being so wholly tainted by the dhaza that her presence alone was enough to bring discord to this world. Surely someone would have noticed had she ventured south... right? His people had sworn to remain vigilant against her and yet, none of them was here. That could only mean that Rassan had been mistaken. As such, he hesitated, for he didn't want to worry his companions without need. “I fear there's more than just the one shakagra knight in that tower”, he finally told them. To his surprise, Naeem gave him a nod. “I sensed a great evil crossing this land”, he revealed. “I know not where it hides now or what its intentions were, but it came from the north and its arrival left the land itself bleeding. The wind whispers her name, but I dare not speak it, not with this rotten keep so close. Nor do I think I need to tell you of her” They continued their way in silence and Yveshin still felt a tightness of his chest. By now, he was certain it was only partially an side effect of the ghost's attack, but more something connected to the revelation he just had. Worse, he could feel this presence within his head, this vile voice that radiated from his left eye. It was not saying anything in particular, but he felt a cold, calculating intelligence at work. Clearly, it had been listening to their conversation and the mere thought was sickening. And now it was thinking, slowly, methodically. There was a clear goal in its mind, though Yveshin could not glimpse it yet. Warmth barely returned to his body, despite his proper attire, not while the Alackskeep was still looming on the horizon. He did not feel any better when the small village of Realm's End was finally in front of them, doused in red by the setting sun. It was a peaceful sight, with soft, fresh snow covering roughly two dozen houses, scattered across the plains. On his way here, through the blizzard, he hadn't been able to appreciate how quaint this village actually was, with its small, but cozy huts and the gentle hills around it. Now, he had more dire things on his mind. Sanurius' house was located on the edge of the village and they were able to approach it unseen. By now, Yveshin was feeling tired and still chilled to the bone. It was not like the cold back home. What he felt here was a cold that affected more than just his body, but his heart and his thoughts. Was it truly just the lingering remnant of Rassan's attack, or was it about what the ork had told him? If Asch hadn't come alone, if his queen was with him, then the stakes were monumental. She would not leave her home if not for good reason and from the stories he knew that the only thing she ever cared for was the utter destruction of the fey and all who would side with them over her cruel master. And yet, there was one more surprise on this day, for as Yveshin entered the house, shortly behind Sanurius, he was greeted by the warmth of a fire, burning merrily in the fireplace, with a figure sitting in front of it, wrapped in a thick blanket. It was a man and he looked over his shoulder as they entered. Only then did Yveshin recognize him. His skin was tanned, darker than what he was used to from the men of this northern land, with several deep wrinkled, especially around his eyes. Even though he had been in a bad shape when Yveshin had last seen him, the man had now taken the time to neatly comb his long, grey beard, as well as binding it together with a golden ring. On his head, he wore several layers of a thin, blue fabric, forming an unusual, round hat that barely covered the tip of his ears. As he saw them, a smile formed on his face and it was one of the warmest and most genuine expressions Yveshin had seen in this land. “My saviour returns!”, the man exclaimed and his voice was deep and firm. “Both of you, accompanied by a third man. A druid, if my sight does not deceive me” Naeem shook his head. “And you are a mage”, he spoke. “And a Tulamid. Neither is common here in Meadows” The Tulamid rose from his seat close by the fire, though he pulled the blanket closer around him. “Of course, where are my manners!”, he replied. “We haven't been formally introduced” He looked from Naeem to Yveshin. “Neither have we, Marked First” Out of the corner of his eye, Yveshin noticed Naeem flinching at the title, the very same one the Tulamid had used for him last night, when he had found him out in the snow. Now, the man took a bow in front of them, surprisingly graceful for someone of his age. “My name is Djelef ibn Jassafer, Magister Magnus of the Great Grey Guild of Magic. I hail from Rashdul, far to the south”, he introduced himself. “A grey mage may have heard of me, but I shall not bore you with titles and accomplishments that mean little to men of your distinction” “I may have heard your name before, Magister Djelef. You're more than just a rank and file grey mage, if I'm not mistaken”, Sanurius spoke and Djelef gave him a modest, almost reluctant nod. “I'm glad you're on your feet again. You have this man to thank for your current condition” Djelef's smile widened, as he took another bow in front of Yveshin. “You have my eternal gratitude, Elf of the North. Nurd'Dhao, as your people would say. My thanks”, he replied and his tone was refreshingly honest. “Without you, I would have died yesterday, out in the snow” Yveshin had seen what the cold could do to a human body, so he nodded without hesitation. “Anyone would have done the same”, he replied and he meant it, even though his year among the humans had taught him that this was not entirely true. “But what were you doing out there? Wandering alone through a snowstorm in the middle of the night, that was a challenge even for me” Djelef's smile faded, growing into something which Yveshin interpreted as apologetic. He and Sanurius exchanged a glance and the Tulamid sighed. “You know it already, healer?”, he asked and the half-elf gave him a nod. “I smelled it in your breath when Yveshin brought you in”, he spoke. “I don't know the exact mixture of herbs, but I assume it causes severe hallucinations” “Not hallucinations!”, Djelef claimed. “Like Thamos of Nostria before me, I am haunted by visions of the days to come. My herbal mixture increases their potency, but as you have seen last night, it is not without its risks. Sometimes, my visions grow so strong that they threaten to overwhelm me” While Yveshin tried to imagine what the Tulamid could mean, Naeem tensed up next to him. “Does that mean you are a prophet, Magister?”, he asked. This time, Djelef gave him a nod. “Not of the same calibre as Thamos or Ilumnestra, I'm afraid, but my visions are true, I assure you of that. I came to this land to make sense of what I have seen in my dreams. Just last night, however, my visions became stronger than ever. I knew I had to leave my room at the local inn. Of course there was the snowstorm going on outside, but it left me with no choice. I had to meet you. You, the Marked First” “Thrice you've called me that now”, Yveshin remarked and his tone sounded sharper than he intended it to be. “What is a Marked First? It's not a term I'm familiar with” By now, he was sitting down, still in his thick cloak, next to the Tulamid and close to the fire. Even this warmth still did not manage to completely cure him of this unnatural cold that had gripped him ever since Rassan had attacked him, but it was getting better with each passing moment. “It is part of an old prophecy. Thamos of Nostria was the first to coin the term, five centuries ago, but the idea is much, much older, dating back to the early days of recorded Tulamid history. And though I lack Thamos' mastery over his visions, I have seen much of the same”, Djelef explained. “I have seen the Master of Demons, the one who opens the gates, the Alveranian of Forbidden Knowledge. I have seen Borbarad, whose return will bring untold devastation” Borbarad... Yveshin flinched at the mention of the name and immediately, he exchanged a concerned look with Naeem. So far, the two of them were the only ones who knew for certain that Liscom's ritual had not failed during the last summer. That he had managed to free something, someone on that day. Hearing this name spoke out aloud so freely was jarring. “Assarbad...”, the voice in his head hissed and Yveshin frowned at the hateful tone. “But amidst the coming storm, I have seen a flicker of hope. I have seen the Marked Seven, as the prophecies have foretold. The Marked First, that is you. I have seen you as clear as I see you now, when I first came to this land and then again last night. I knew I had to meet you and in this moment, overwhelmed by my vision, I saw no other way but to head out into the darkness” “A foolish risk, as I'm sure you understand now”, Sanurius brought up and Djelef nodded mildly. Naeem meanwhile had approached him from the other side and Yveshin saw the severe expression on the druid's face. “I have suspected this about Yveshin”, he admitted and he glanced at the elf. “It's why I called you here, my friend” As he said this, he sat down on the bench on the other side of Djelef. “Do you know of the others? The Marked Seven?” “Only glimpses and fragments”, Djelef revealed. “The Marked Second, pure as starlight and with darkness in her veins. The Marked Third, a warrior and drifter, whose heart shall grow cold with ancient fury. The Marked Fourth, the thief, red of hair and with red following her every deed. The Marked Fifth, the black one chosen by the greatest of the grey. The Marked Sixth, the lone wolf who rejects his pack, he who cannot outrun his destiny. And the last of them, the greatest of them, the Marked Seventh, the king among the swordsmen, the Lioness' feint” “But no names? No idea where we can find them?”, Naeem asked, to which Djelef shook his head. “Regrettably no”, he revealed. “I saw Yveshin's face just days before I first met him. In the weeks before, he was nothing but the Lone Prophet to me, the Herald of the Almandine Eye” With these words, he looked at Yveshin, more precisely at the patch of linen the elf wore over the ruby eye. “What does that mean?”, Yveshin asked. “It means you have been chosen”, Djelef replied. “By whom, I dare not guess. For what, I can only speculate. But in the years to come, your actions will shape our fate. I have come here to play my humble part in setting you onto that path” He and Naeem looked at each other. “And now I see that I am not the only one”, he added. “If you don't mind, Yveshin, please show me the mark” With these words, he placed two fingers over his left eye. After a moment of hesitation, Yveshin removed the linen patch and a truly baffled expression appeared on Djelef's face. Strangely enough, Yveshin found it easy to read the old man. There was something calming about, something that reminded him of the older members of his tribe. “Exceptional...”, the Tulamid gasped. “The Almandine Eye, as I have seen in my dreams” “This happened after the events of Drakesfield”, he revealed. “The mage responsible for what happened there attacked me just before I killed him” Djelef gave him a nod. “The Servant beyond Death”, he replied. “He previously wore the Almandine Eye, but he was not the first. The eye is a recurring theme in Tulamid mythology, over millennia its power was wielded by heroes and tyrants alike, if your stories tell the truth. And I have reason to believe that your current state is not the result of his attack. No, my friend, you were chosen by the eye itself” Yveshin felt a grim satisfaction at these words, not his own, but from that vile presence in his head. “You mean this was not Liscom's doing?”, he asked and Djelef shook his head. “The Almandine Eye has been seen in past centuries, always as an omen of dire times to come. Its origins, however, are as mysterious as the artefact itself. My friend Khadil Okharim, who leads the academy at Khunchom could possibly tell you more about it, but alas, he is not here and we have more immediate issues to deal with” “Such as the shakagra queen”, Yveshin agreed. “If she is truly in these lands...” Djelef gave him a grim nod. “The temptress of bodies”, he spoke. “The Al'Anfanian prophecies, second verse, first sentence. Thamos of Nostria foretold her involvement in this coming war and from his words, I fear she will be another foe to fight” “She has always been”, Yveshin replied sharply. “I know little of Borbarad or the Marked Seven and I don't know what to make of your words that I am somehow connected to this, but I know Bhardona. She lives solely to bring misery and devastation. If she is here, if she is behind all this, then nothing is more important than stopping her. No Borbarad, no ancient prophecy, nothing!” “Agreed”, Djelef confirmed. “Besides, I am led to believe that all of this is connected. The events of Drakesfield during the last summer, the presence of Night Elves here in Meadows, the disappearances that seem to happen all over the duchy, all of this is connected to the great catastrophe which Thamos tried to warn us about, five centuries ago” With these words, he rose from his seat and to Yveshin's surprise, he actually knelt down in front of him. “I have travelled a thousand miles and braved the winter that has gripped this land to meet you, Marked First”, he intoned. “I owe you my life and in my homeland, there is no debt more serious. It would be my honour and pleasure to support you in your fight, Marked First, if you accept it” “A noble gesture, Magister Djelef”, Sanurius interjected. “But let's not forget that you nearly died just yesterday night. I cannot stop you, but as your healer, I must ask you to consider this carefully” Djelef gave him a warm, fatherly smile. “My gratitude extends to you just as well, Sanurius of Realm's End. But there's no hint of doubt within me that I can do this, else I wouldn't offer my aid”, he revealed. “I know I am easily the oldest man in this room and I lack your elven blood, but you will find there's quite some life left in these ageing bones of mine” Sanurius sighed, as he turned to one of the cupboards on the wall behind them. “Then you leave me with no choice”, he spoke. “Not that I wasn't already thinking about it, but over the course of the last twenty hours, both of you nearly died. It would be irresponsible of me to let you leave all by yourself” He turned around, with a determined expression on his face and a large piece of parchment in his hands. A map, as Yveshin realized as the healer placed it on the table between them. His own people had no need for them, but he knew maps well from the few travellers he had encountered near his home and he had always been fascinated by them. Cities and kingdoms, the entire world perhaps, drawn with skill and care, all so that humans would find their way even if they had never been to a place before. “You wish to join us?”, he realized and Sanurius gave him a nod. “Though I love my home and the quiet life I have here, that is exactly the point”, the healer told him. “I love it and I will not stand by idly while it is threatened. Besides, I am a modest man, but not a man of false modesty. You have clearly shown that you need my aid” “It is settled then”, Yveshin spoke, glad about the support. Though Djelef's words were deeply troublesome to him, the Tulamid seemed like an honest man and Sanurius had proven his sincerity without a doubt today. With them and Naeem, he couldn't have hoped for better companions to face the cruel queen of the shakagra. And yet, a slight sting remained as he thought of his friends. Of Iiro and Vittorio and of Thea. They should have been here with him, but perhaps it was a kindness that they were far away, not a part of this nightmare. His people knew many great songs of heroes who had faced Bhardona of the Shakagra and her master, the Wind of Dhaza, and none of them ended well. “So then...”, Sanurius mumbled, as his finger moved across the map. It was a well-drawn map, large and full of detail, with countless lines, some in the shape of tiny trees, with several of them together indicating forests, while others were small houses, for villages and cities, all of them connected by straight lines, indicating roads. There was a large lake to the north and mountain ranges to the west and east. In the lower left corner, there was a massive sigil, depicting a twelve-starred sun, with a large, winged creature in its centre. A griffin, as he realized after a moment, the same beast the Church of Praios bore on its banners. Above it, a separate drawing depicted two crowned men on horses, riding side by side, while the bottom right corner showed a painting of two knights locked into a deadly single combat. Though Yveshin looked at it with undeniable fascination, he could only guess that it showed the Duchy of Meadows. He was not familiar with the local geography, much less with how to actually read a map, or read human letters in general, though that was something he genuinely wanted to learn. Thankfully, Sanurius picked up on his plight and pointed at one of the villages to the north of the map. “That's where we are, the village of Realm's End”, he told them, as his finger moved across the western portion of the map. “All of this is the County of Herostand. If the ork told us the truth, we need to head further to the south, to the County of Baliho” Carefully, his finger moved down, where Yveshin could clearly see several lakes on the map. “The Barony of Menzhome, near the border to Darpatia, is the southernmost barony of Meadows”, the healer explained. “I've been there once and though the city itself is splendid and the road is well-built and fortified, the outskirts of the barony are a treacherous marshland, home to half a dozen smaller lakes” He narrowed his eyes, as his finger stopped on one of those lakes. As Yveshin looked carefully, he saw lines there. “Nightshade Tower”, Sanurius mumbled. “Quite the ominous name. Why would anyone build a tower in this marshland?” Now, Magister Djelef looked up. “It could be a mage's tower”, he brought up. “Possibly abandoned, though I would not put it past some of my colleagues to work with the queen of the Night Elves. There's some mages who would do anything for a quick profit” “That's the place then?”, Yveshin asked and Sanurius shrugged. “I see only one tower on a lake”, he replied. “It could be worth a try” He stepped back from the table and the map, now walking towards another cupboard, where Yveshin saw several dark bottles. “While you consider our next move, I'll go and get us something to drink. I promised you a good brandy, didn't I?” Yveshin gave him a nod. “Just one small sip for me”, he replied. “So, what are we going to do then?” He looked from Djelef to Naeem, but to his surprise, the druid and the mage both shook their head. “This is not our decision to make”, the Tulamid replied. “You decide, Marked First” Yveshin frowned at the title, though he pulled himself together quick enough. “There's nothing to decide”, he told them. “It's as Sanurius has said, there's only this one tower, so we should see if Rassan told us the truth. We should head out as soon as possible” “Are you sure about that?”, Sanurius asked, as he returned to the table, where he placed four wooden cups, with the dark bottle in its centre. “Both, you and Magister Djelef could use a few days of proper rest and I'd feel better knowing that you have both recovered” He reached for the bottle and as he opened it, Yveshin immediately noticed the sharp smell that came from it. Humans were known for their stiff, unpleasant drinks and he had no doubt that this one would be no different. With one hand, Sanurius pushed one of the cups closer to Yveshin, now barely filled with one sip of the strong liquor. “Time is of the essence”, Naeem interjected, as he reached for his cup, filled to the brink. “The Night Elves are fearsome opponents and giving them a few days to continue with their plan is a risk at best. The sooner we put an end to their activities here in the Meadows, the better” He raised his cup and Sanurius did the same. “To good health!”, the half-elf proclaimed and Naeem nodded. “And to Mother Sumu!”, he chimed in. Almost hesitantly, Yveshin reached for his own cup and he frowned as he smelled the strange, sharp smell of the liquor. To his right, Magister Djelef gave him a reassuring smile. “Whatever you choose, Marked First, wether you want us to head out tomorrow morning or after a few days, at the risk of our enemies proceeding with their plan”, he told him. “I trust your judgement and it shall happen as you choose it” [Head out tomorrow morning] [Wait for a few days and recover]
|
|
|
Post by diversegnu on Feb 28, 2021 5:45:19 GMT
[Wait for a few days and recover]
It was already a risk to free the orks, resting up is probably the smarter choice of the two. And we've gotten a description for all of the Marked Seven!! I wonder how many we have met, the marked third could be Iiro I guess? Regardless, I am super excited for all of them to eventually be revealed.
|
|