I will be using this tread to post the main story of my campaign in progress, The Tale of Young Mudgeon ( viewtopic.php?t=13918 ). It's slowly progressing, and in hope of making more people interested in the project, I'll be posting much of the story inhere. I will only focus on the main story, meaning that side quests will NOT be included. At several point in the campaign, you're given choices that will change some texts, I won't be posting all the different ones.
If anyone likes to comment on anything, please use the other tread, which is linked at the top.
First off, campaign description:
Take part in this epic adventure that spans over no less than 15 maps, with lots of references to movies, series ect., and with plenty of humorous touches.
The game tells the story of young Mudgeon, who's about to be apprenticed to a sorcerer. Perhaps not an exciting plot, but one day his life is changed abruptly, when his family and he himself becomes enmeshed in a tangle of plots, treachery and evil plans to destroy all things living.
In a race against time, Mudgeon's trying to find his family, solve mysteries and fight evil. Eventually he realizes that he is just a small piece of a puzzle with more than a 1,000 pieces. The destiny of the whole world does not lie on his shoulders, but with the help of his faithful followers, they assume their responsibility for making the world a safer place... For their own sake, of course.
>>> The critics wrote: <<<
With hectic car chases made on horseback, breathtaking sword fights, magical duels and convincingly good acting, one can not help but empathize with the story. The whole thing is supported by plenty of impressive special effects.
The Tale of Young Mudgeon (story) (campaign in progress)
Chapter 1 - The Apprentice
Prologue:
Ever since Mudgeon's father first told tales of mighty wizards, Mudgeon have dreamed of becomming a mage when he grew up. Now Mudgeon has turned eighteen years old and it's time to begin his training as a mage. He is The Apprentice.
Map description:
After many years of waiting, it now seems that Mudgeons dream will come true. His father has made a deal with an old friend, who's to train him as a magician. Today his training with the sorcerer Vilingu begins.
The Story:
"Hi my name is Bolette. I am 42 years old and ninja ...".
"Oh mother, please be silent. This story is about me."
"Oh, yes, you must forgive me my boy. I must've got caught by the mood and music. Huii jaa! Haii ooh".
"I'm sorry. It was just my mother. Sometimes when she is doing yoga, she dissapears into another world, and suddenly she thinks she's a ninja. But this is my story. My name Mudgeon and I've just turned eighteen. My father has arranged for me to become a sorcereres apprentice, at an old acquaintance, Vilingu. "
"My mother is a housewife and my father is a blacksmith. But not an ordinary blacksmith. He has the ability to forge magical weapons and artifacts. He is also a skilled hunter, and has taught me archery and swordfighting.
It has long been my desire to become a mage, and Vilingu is indebt to my father. Many years ago my father saved Vilingus life. Vilingu was assaulted by a group of barbarians, and had run out of mana. Unable to defend himself, my father came to his rescue. Badly wounded, he had dragged Vilingu, who was unconscious, back to his village. They have been close friends since then. But over the last few years, they have slowly lost touch, and Vilingu have isolated himmself in the woods. Actually it is more than seven years since I first wanted to become a sorcerer's apprentice, but back then Vilingu had just taken an apprentice and wanted no more than one. He is unfortunately the only teacher for miles around. But nearly a month ago, on the occasion of my eighteenth birthday, my father asked Vilingu to repay his debt, by teaching me magic. His former student must be fully trained, 'coz Vilingu agreed to train me, and I am now on my way to his castle."
I arrived at the castle. A tall thin man with a blue headwear and a white beard welcomed me.
"Welcome Mudgeon. I'm Vilingu. Let me show you around. Now, there's not much more than a few shacks and of course the rooms where you are to study magic."
I looked around. There really wasn't much to see. A couple of golems walked past us, otherwise the place seemed quite deserted. "Does noone else live here?" I asked.
"No. Only me. And then the golems you just saw. I feel best when I have peace and quietness to study, and that I have here. But there isn't far to the nearest village" he said and smiled as he laid a hand on my shoulder. "Come, I'll show you the rest."
I got my own cottage. Vilingu had of course his own hut. Or more correctly room. For he lived in the main building where we ate, studied and where there also was a small library. I spotted one of the cottages that were partially burned.
"Yeah, that hut belonged to my former student." Vilingu became completely quiet while he stared blankly into the air. "He had tried to learn Chaos magic, a difficult and sometimes very dangerous type of magic, as you have probably heard about?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, I woke up one night when I heard an explosion and saw that Silas' cottage was on fire. Before we were able to get the fire extingushed, he was unfortunately severely burned." Vilingu lowered his gaze. "He was only fifteen. I later found traces of papers with incantations to cast Inferno and other powerful spells involving fire. Since then I have not had an apprentice and parts of the library has been sealed off since then. You will gain free access to study level 1-3 Order magic in your spare time. And also Life magic. Do you know the five different types of magic?" Vilingu asked.
I shrugged. "Mainly by reference."
"There are five different types of magic" Vilingu explained. "Only very few have mastered all five types, but it is not uncommon for a skilled sorcerer/sorceress to master two or three different types. I will train you in Order magic to which our kind is related to. It is also the most versatile of the five types. Order magic includes direct damage, mind spells, blessings, illusions, teleportation, pacifying and minor curses. "
"Life Magic, which I will give you the opportunity to study, focuses on the abilities to heal, protect and bless you and your men. And of course, fighting the undead."
"The Druids who master Nature magic, have the ability to summon all of the forests creatures. Their blessings deal with supernatural strength, speed, and increased morale and luck. According to their convictions, they perform no direct harm to living beings but they may prevent the dead from rising."
"Chaos Magic is the most destructive of all of the types and is mainly based on direct harm, often consisting of fire. I don't know much about their blessings and curses."
"The last type of magic is Death Magic. Death Magic tends to devour the soul of those who practise it. Necromancers and demons exercise this black sort of magic. The people who have studied Death Magic have often ended up as emotionsless necromancers, who have awakened the dead and cursed and poisoned people for personal gain. Since the spells can easily drain you of life energy, I have blocked that part of the library of. I don't want anymore unfortunate incidents of eager apprentices who get hurt. Well, we'll start training tomorrow. Now go get some sleep, so you'll be fresh and well developed"said Vilingu and walked me to my cottage.
The next morning Vilingu came to me.
"I have hired 20 ancarian dwarfs as craftsmen and bought tools for them. They've been given a bag of 2,000 gold coins in advance."
I wonder if they did undeclared work, I thought to myself.
"They will help build a wall around the city. You must make sure that they get the necessary materials. There are sawmills and ore pits in the forest. It is important that you hurry. The wall should be finished by spring, where the forests wild animals come out of their hibarnation" Vilingu explained.
"Oh, I'd almost forgotten." Vilingu found a piece of paper. "Here, this is a spell you can practice on while you work. It shows you your enemy's true strength. The sooner we get the wall up, the sooner we can move on with your training. Moreover, I expect you to use a portion of your spare time to study. The more understanding you have for spells structure, the easier you will able to learn new spells. I will test you in this incantation in a few days."
Vilingu woke me early one Thursday morning.
"I'm away for a few days, so we do not get the opportunity to train" he said. "But in the meantime you can read this book." He put a book on my desk before he walked away.
It was with mixed emotions that I received that message. What should I do with a long weekend? I still needed to stay here and read, although most of all, I just wanted to go home and visit my parents. But I knew that Vilingu would test me in the book's content as soon as he came back. It was just so lonely and boring here. There was no one to talk to. The craftsman dwarfs worked around the clock and seemed hardly to notice me. Sometimes I wondered if they perhaps were in a trance. And what do you talk with a golem about?
I went to the table and sat down. 'Worth knowing about magical creatures' was the name of the book. I glimpsed at the pages. There were lots of beautiful illustrations. Black dragons, Hydras, Nightmares and Mermaids. I glimpsed the text next to the picture of a Hydra. What is the meaning of reading this threehundredpage thick book? I'll never get to experience these creatures, I thought and sighed deeply.
My thoughts were interrupted when suddenly, it knocked on the door. A golem opened. The craftsmen were about to run out of wood. Most of all I wanted to say to the Golem that it itself, could make sure that the dwarves got wood, but I didn't. Instead I quietly grumbled about that only thing I had seemed to have learned so far, was to repeal a spell and disar an opponent and formalities regarding magical duels.
Four days later Vilingu came home.
"Well, are you ready to be tested in your knowledge of magical creatures?" he asked expectantly.
"I haven't had time. I've been in the woods all weekend to get wood for the craftsmen" I replied frustrated.
Vilingu sighed and looked resignedly at me. "Get me when you have read the book. Not untill then" he said and started walking towards the door. "By the way Mudgeon..". Vilingu stopped and turned around "..it IS possible to put the Golems to work. That's why they're here."
I had gathered enough resources for those ancarian craftsmen to build a fence around the castle.
The fence had been built, but Vilingu wasn't satisfied.
"Tell me, what is it? Is this supposed to be able to keep wolves and bears out? You have to build a stronger wall."
Unfortunately, this meant that I had to gather even more resources. When would I get time to study?
Dear diary.. I've soon been with Vilingu for three weeks, but I think that most of my time is spent working on building a wall around the castle. The first week I was taught for five hours a day. But the past few days I have not seen much of Vilingu. He has some errands around town, he says. But it appears as if I am left to myself. After being in the woods for half a day, I rarely have the energy to read much in the evening. He expects me to study, but when shall I have the time? I hope that we are finished with the wall soon.
The craftsmen had finally been finished building a strong solid wall around the city. Vilingu was satisfied with the work.
"The dwarves require 60.000 gold and 50 gems in payment for their work" Vilingu explained. "We have until the end of the second month. Otherwise, they will send us to debt collections, and then I'll end up in ACI (Ancarias Credit Information) as a defaulter. Hurry now and gather the resources" Vilingu begged me.
My master, Vilingu is very pleased with my efforts. The castle has been secured against the forest's wildlife, and I have already shown that I have the skill and the will to become a powerful sorcerer, although there is still a long way to go.
Prologue:
Ever since Mudgeon's father first told tales of mighty wizards, Mudgeon have dreamed of becomming a mage when he grew up. Now Mudgeon has turned eighteen years old and it's time to begin his training as a mage. He is The Apprentice.
Map description:
After many years of waiting, it now seems that Mudgeons dream will come true. His father has made a deal with an old friend, who's to train him as a magician. Today his training with the sorcerer Vilingu begins.
The Story:
"Hi my name is Bolette. I am 42 years old and ninja ...".
"Oh mother, please be silent. This story is about me."
"Oh, yes, you must forgive me my boy. I must've got caught by the mood and music. Huii jaa! Haii ooh".
"I'm sorry. It was just my mother. Sometimes when she is doing yoga, she dissapears into another world, and suddenly she thinks she's a ninja. But this is my story. My name Mudgeon and I've just turned eighteen. My father has arranged for me to become a sorcereres apprentice, at an old acquaintance, Vilingu. "
"My mother is a housewife and my father is a blacksmith. But not an ordinary blacksmith. He has the ability to forge magical weapons and artifacts. He is also a skilled hunter, and has taught me archery and swordfighting.
It has long been my desire to become a mage, and Vilingu is indebt to my father. Many years ago my father saved Vilingus life. Vilingu was assaulted by a group of barbarians, and had run out of mana. Unable to defend himself, my father came to his rescue. Badly wounded, he had dragged Vilingu, who was unconscious, back to his village. They have been close friends since then. But over the last few years, they have slowly lost touch, and Vilingu have isolated himmself in the woods. Actually it is more than seven years since I first wanted to become a sorcerer's apprentice, but back then Vilingu had just taken an apprentice and wanted no more than one. He is unfortunately the only teacher for miles around. But nearly a month ago, on the occasion of my eighteenth birthday, my father asked Vilingu to repay his debt, by teaching me magic. His former student must be fully trained, 'coz Vilingu agreed to train me, and I am now on my way to his castle."
I arrived at the castle. A tall thin man with a blue headwear and a white beard welcomed me.
"Welcome Mudgeon. I'm Vilingu. Let me show you around. Now, there's not much more than a few shacks and of course the rooms where you are to study magic."
I looked around. There really wasn't much to see. A couple of golems walked past us, otherwise the place seemed quite deserted. "Does noone else live here?" I asked.
"No. Only me. And then the golems you just saw. I feel best when I have peace and quietness to study, and that I have here. But there isn't far to the nearest village" he said and smiled as he laid a hand on my shoulder. "Come, I'll show you the rest."
I got my own cottage. Vilingu had of course his own hut. Or more correctly room. For he lived in the main building where we ate, studied and where there also was a small library. I spotted one of the cottages that were partially burned.
"Yeah, that hut belonged to my former student." Vilingu became completely quiet while he stared blankly into the air. "He had tried to learn Chaos magic, a difficult and sometimes very dangerous type of magic, as you have probably heard about?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, I woke up one night when I heard an explosion and saw that Silas' cottage was on fire. Before we were able to get the fire extingushed, he was unfortunately severely burned." Vilingu lowered his gaze. "He was only fifteen. I later found traces of papers with incantations to cast Inferno and other powerful spells involving fire. Since then I have not had an apprentice and parts of the library has been sealed off since then. You will gain free access to study level 1-3 Order magic in your spare time. And also Life magic. Do you know the five different types of magic?" Vilingu asked.
I shrugged. "Mainly by reference."
"There are five different types of magic" Vilingu explained. "Only very few have mastered all five types, but it is not uncommon for a skilled sorcerer/sorceress to master two or three different types. I will train you in Order magic to which our kind is related to. It is also the most versatile of the five types. Order magic includes direct damage, mind spells, blessings, illusions, teleportation, pacifying and minor curses. "
"Life Magic, which I will give you the opportunity to study, focuses on the abilities to heal, protect and bless you and your men. And of course, fighting the undead."
"The Druids who master Nature magic, have the ability to summon all of the forests creatures. Their blessings deal with supernatural strength, speed, and increased morale and luck. According to their convictions, they perform no direct harm to living beings but they may prevent the dead from rising."
"Chaos Magic is the most destructive of all of the types and is mainly based on direct harm, often consisting of fire. I don't know much about their blessings and curses."
"The last type of magic is Death Magic. Death Magic tends to devour the soul of those who practise it. Necromancers and demons exercise this black sort of magic. The people who have studied Death Magic have often ended up as emotionsless necromancers, who have awakened the dead and cursed and poisoned people for personal gain. Since the spells can easily drain you of life energy, I have blocked that part of the library of. I don't want anymore unfortunate incidents of eager apprentices who get hurt. Well, we'll start training tomorrow. Now go get some sleep, so you'll be fresh and well developed"said Vilingu and walked me to my cottage.
The next morning Vilingu came to me.
"I have hired 20 ancarian dwarfs as craftsmen and bought tools for them. They've been given a bag of 2,000 gold coins in advance."
I wonder if they did undeclared work, I thought to myself.
"They will help build a wall around the city. You must make sure that they get the necessary materials. There are sawmills and ore pits in the forest. It is important that you hurry. The wall should be finished by spring, where the forests wild animals come out of their hibarnation" Vilingu explained.
"Oh, I'd almost forgotten." Vilingu found a piece of paper. "Here, this is a spell you can practice on while you work. It shows you your enemy's true strength. The sooner we get the wall up, the sooner we can move on with your training. Moreover, I expect you to use a portion of your spare time to study. The more understanding you have for spells structure, the easier you will able to learn new spells. I will test you in this incantation in a few days."
Vilingu woke me early one Thursday morning.
"I'm away for a few days, so we do not get the opportunity to train" he said. "But in the meantime you can read this book." He put a book on my desk before he walked away.
It was with mixed emotions that I received that message. What should I do with a long weekend? I still needed to stay here and read, although most of all, I just wanted to go home and visit my parents. But I knew that Vilingu would test me in the book's content as soon as he came back. It was just so lonely and boring here. There was no one to talk to. The craftsman dwarfs worked around the clock and seemed hardly to notice me. Sometimes I wondered if they perhaps were in a trance. And what do you talk with a golem about?
I went to the table and sat down. 'Worth knowing about magical creatures' was the name of the book. I glimpsed at the pages. There were lots of beautiful illustrations. Black dragons, Hydras, Nightmares and Mermaids. I glimpsed the text next to the picture of a Hydra. What is the meaning of reading this threehundredpage thick book? I'll never get to experience these creatures, I thought and sighed deeply.
My thoughts were interrupted when suddenly, it knocked on the door. A golem opened. The craftsmen were about to run out of wood. Most of all I wanted to say to the Golem that it itself, could make sure that the dwarves got wood, but I didn't. Instead I quietly grumbled about that only thing I had seemed to have learned so far, was to repeal a spell and disar an opponent and formalities regarding magical duels.
Four days later Vilingu came home.
"Well, are you ready to be tested in your knowledge of magical creatures?" he asked expectantly.
"I haven't had time. I've been in the woods all weekend to get wood for the craftsmen" I replied frustrated.
Vilingu sighed and looked resignedly at me. "Get me when you have read the book. Not untill then" he said and started walking towards the door. "By the way Mudgeon..". Vilingu stopped and turned around "..it IS possible to put the Golems to work. That's why they're here."
I had gathered enough resources for those ancarian craftsmen to build a fence around the castle.
The fence had been built, but Vilingu wasn't satisfied.
"Tell me, what is it? Is this supposed to be able to keep wolves and bears out? You have to build a stronger wall."
Unfortunately, this meant that I had to gather even more resources. When would I get time to study?
Dear diary.. I've soon been with Vilingu for three weeks, but I think that most of my time is spent working on building a wall around the castle. The first week I was taught for five hours a day. But the past few days I have not seen much of Vilingu. He has some errands around town, he says. But it appears as if I am left to myself. After being in the woods for half a day, I rarely have the energy to read much in the evening. He expects me to study, but when shall I have the time? I hope that we are finished with the wall soon.
The craftsmen had finally been finished building a strong solid wall around the city. Vilingu was satisfied with the work.
"The dwarves require 60.000 gold and 50 gems in payment for their work" Vilingu explained. "We have until the end of the second month. Otherwise, they will send us to debt collections, and then I'll end up in ACI (Ancarias Credit Information) as a defaulter. Hurry now and gather the resources" Vilingu begged me.
My master, Vilingu is very pleased with my efforts. The castle has been secured against the forest's wildlife, and I have already shown that I have the skill and the will to become a powerful sorcerer, although there is still a long way to go.
Last edited by Anonymous on 03 Jun 2013, 21:09, edited 3 times in total.
Chapter 2 - The Final Test
Prologue:
You learn throughout life. This goes for wizardry and magic as well. Mudgeon has reached a point where his master, Vilingu, don't feel he can learn any more from him. Mudgeon has gotten the basic knowledge about magic and spells. The time has come for Mudgeon to stand on his own two feet, for the first time. The time has come for The Final Test.
Map description:
Nearly 3 years have passed since Mudgeon began as a sorcerer's apprentice. Mudgeon has emerged as a natural talent, and despite the late age of him starting training, have already reached long. In his quest to understand other forms of magic, Mudgeon has travelled farther into the woods. He'll need his archery skills to catch food, and his magical abilities and skills with a sword to handle the rigors of life in the wilderness.
The Story:
It's been nearly three years since I began as a sorcerer's apprentice with my master, Vilingu. I remember that I initially thought that time went with everything else, other than teaching me about magic and spells. For a long time I didn't feel like I learned anything. Even today, I still have the feeling that I should be able to perform much more. Vilingu has always told me that when it came to magic, you are your own best teacher. That if he just gave me a piece of paper with a spell, I would not achieve the same understanding of the incatation as if I learned it from scratch. "A spell should be broken up and reassembled." Basically, I could easily see that he had a point. My late start meant perhaps that I had been impatient. Most begin their training course, even as small children. But during my time at Vilingu I had only worked with Order Magic. Vilingu had refused to inaugurate me to Death Magic. Even the more harmless spells. And Life Magic requires years of training. One can not from one day to another learn how to heal people. During my years at Vilingu, I tried to keep my fight training regularly, but much had been neglected. Since Vilingu a few weeks ago told me that he now felt that my apprenticeship with him was over, that I had gained the basic knowledge I needed, I decided to go deeper into the woods as soon as it was spring. I wanted to learn about other forms of magic, and retrain my abilities in battle. My father had taught me not to put all my trust in magic, in the event of battle. Once again I went to say goodbye to my family and was ready for the first time in my life, to having to take care of myself. I was ready to be hunting my own dinner. Prepared to have to sleep under the open sky, but not least - ready for new experiences.
A knight in black armour stood with his sword before him, and rested his hands on it.
"No one shall pass."
"What?" I asked
"No one shall pass" he repeated.
"We have no outstanding, noble knight, but I must cross the bridge."
"Then you must die" he replied.
"Then let it be so!" I said as I drew my sword.
As he came running towards me, I managed to chop off his left arm.
"Step aside now, worthy opponent" I said, and lowered my sword.
He looked at the place where his arm had been. "It's only a scratch."
I was amazed. "A scratch? Your arm is gone."
"No it ain't" he replied stubbornly.
I pointed at his arm that was lying on the ground "Well, what is that then?"
"It's nothing. I've experienced worse" he replied coldly.
"Liar."
"Come on, yellowbelly!" he shouted as he rushed toward me with his arm stretched.
"Victory is mine" I exclaimed triumphantly, having cut off his right arm.
Suddenly he came and kicked me to the ground
"Come on."
"What?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"I attack you" he said.
"You are indeed brave, noble knight, but I am a sure winner" I replied and got up. I put my sword back into the scabbard.
"Had enough?" he asked mockingly.
I rarely get angry, but this was getting too much. "Listen you stupid pig. You have no arms left" I snapped.
"Sure I do" he continued.
I pointed to his arms, both lying on the ground. "Look!"
"Mere flesh wounds" he replied and kicked me in the behind.
"Stop it."
"Coward. Coward" he taunted as he ran around me and continued kicking at me.
Once again I drew my sword as he walked towards me.
"I'll take your leg. That's it!" I cut off one of his legs, but he still jumped around.
"I will avenge myself."
I looked surprised at him "What are you gonna do?"
"Come here" he said and hopped around on one leg.
Now he would have to realize that the battle was lost. "What will you do? Bleed on me?"
"I am invincible!"
I shook my head "You're mad" I replied and walked past him toward the bridge.
"The Black Knight always triumphs. I attack! Come on then."
I was starting to get tired of listening to him, so I cut off his last leg. Now he sat upright on the ground, with no arms and legs. But he kept going.
"Alright, we'll call it a draw. Oh oh I see, running away eh? You yellow bastard, come back here and taste what's coming to you! I'll bite your legs off!" he shouted at me as I rode on.
I stood at the marketplace in Vitross as a larger group of people came rushing past me.
"A witch! We've found a witch. We've got a witch."
"Burn her!" shouted some.
A farmer grabbed me. "We found a witch" he shouted enthusiastically as he shook me.
The group continued towards the city centre, where an officer stood in his armour.
"May we burn her?" asked one. "Burn her!" yelled the mob, while still more were coming along.
"How do you know she is a witch?" asked the officer.
"She looks like one" said a farmer.
"Bring her forward" the officer said.
"I'm not a witch, I'm NOT a witch" the woman said when she was thrown in front of the officer's feet.
"But you are dressed as one" the officer replied and looked at her.
"They dressed me out"
"No, we did not!" shouted a few men while they looked at each other and shook their head.
"And this is not my nose. It's fake" said the woman.
The officer took hold of her nose and flipped it up in the forehead of the woman.
"Well?" he said, looking at the three men.
"Okay, we made the nose" they replied.
"The nose?" the officer asked.
"And the hat. But she is a witch" replied one of the men.
"Burn her!" shouted the mob and raised their pitchforks.
The officer looked determined at the three men. "You dressed her like this?"
The men shook their heads "No. No!" they replied. "Well. A little bit. She has a wart" one said, pointing at her face.
"Why do you think she is a witch?" the officer asked.
"She turned me into a newt" answered one of the men who had led the mob.
The officer looked at the man with wonder. "A newt?"
The man looked around a few times before he replied. "I got better."
"Burn her anyway" cried the two others who had also led the mob. Immediately the mob followed "Burn her!"
"Silence!" shouted the officer. "There are ways to find out whether she is a witch."
"There is? Tell us how" said one man.
"Does it hurt?" asked another.
"Tell me: What do you do with witches?" asked the officer.
"Burn them!" the mob shouted.
"Besides witches, what else do you burn?" asked the officer in a educational tone.
"More witches!" shouted one of the men who had led the way before he was shushed by one standing behind.
"Wood" replied one in the flock.
"Why does witches burn?" the officer continued.
There was a long silence while the people were thinking. "Because they are made of wood?" one replied.
"Good. How do we assure us that she is made of wood?"
"Build a bridge of her" a farmer replied.
"Can't you also make bridges out of stone?" asked the officer, once again in an educational tone. "Does wood sink in water?" he asked.
"No. It floats" one answered thrilled.
"Throw her in the pond!" shouted the mob and reached out for her.
The officer raised his hands to calm down the mob. "What else floats in water?"
"Bread. Apples. Very small stones?" more suggestions came from the mob "Applewine? Gravy! Cherries!"
The officer shook his head. "Nuts? Churches? Lead?" they continued.
"A duck" I replied as I slowly walked towards them.
The officer nodded. "Exactly. So, logically.."
"If she.. weighs the same as a duck.." a peasant continued "..she's made of wood" he answered with an enthusiasm as if he had just found a big bag of gold.
The officer looked at the three men who had led the way "And thus..?"
"A witch!" they shouted, while the crowd cheered and raised their scythes and pitchforks high in the air.
"We will use the city's largest scales" said the officer and led the way as they went to two large scales made of wood. They placed the woman in one and a duck in the other.
"Fine, remove the supports" the officer commanded.
The scales were equal. People cheered as they led the woman away.
I stood amazed. The only reason that I had answered, was to put an end to the stupidity. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that she would weigh the same as a duck. I immediately rode out of town. A witch burning was the last thing I wanted to witness.
"Oh, you there, young man.." said a voice suddenly.
"A talking tree?" I exclaimed loudly and amazed.
"Yes, really. I'm an Ent. In the old world, we were a race of powerful warriors who defended the forest. But in this new world, we could not find our rightful place. Instead many of us has planted us firmly in the ground and instead of fighting, we now share our wisdom. For a modest payment that is. But you see, I have a problem." the Ent pounded its branches to the ground below it. "Oh, those darn mice, they gnaw in my roots. Yes, I have a mouse family living underneat me and they gnaw so terribly in my roots. It won't be long before they start nesting under me. I've had mice living under me before. In the old world. Before winter, they had gathered storage. And when spring came, an acorn began to sprout, so I had to give way for the poor new tree. But you see, now I have set my roots so deeply that I can hardly leave again. Perhaps you could get a falcon? They are good to scare away mice. "
"That's a terrible situation. I will do my best" I promised.
"Oh, it would be so nice if you could be able to help me. Let me tell you of a hidden route into the forest. Maybe you can find a falcon there."
Dear diary..
I met Gauldoth for the first time today. I was hunting and had almost confused him with a large animal. I had followed a deer for a while. Every time I had aimed my bow, it had moved. It had gone into a dense shrubbery. I could hear it rustle. Branches and twigs snapped under its hooves. A crunching sound made me hesitate. I could only vaguely glimpse the shadows of it, when something arose only a few meters from me. The deer rushed away, while I instinctively directed my aim at the moving object. It was a man, somewhat higher than me, in an old wornout brown cloak. Terror shone from his eyes. An insect's leg squirmed in the corner of his mouth. That explained the crunching noise. I lowered my bow. The right side of his face was severly burned. Almost dead.
"Sorry I aimed at you, but I chased a deer in here" I said to the person. "My name is Mudgeon."
"Gauldoth" he answered, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Gauldoth. Gauldoth Half-Dead. Well, the last part I didn't found out until some time later. We have encountered each other several times since. But this was thus our first meeting. During the Reckoning, Gauldoth had been severly burned. He had survived a powerful spell that went wrong, which kept him alive, despite the fact that half of his body had been devoured by flames. Like many others he fled, through a portal to this new world. He has lived alone since then. So in the time after our first meeting, I was careful always to leave a little food for Gauldoth.
I had just inflated my campfire and was about to grill a fish I had caught a few days before, when I heard some rustling among the bushes. Quickly I drew my sword, ready to defend myself. It was Gauldoth.
"I could not help noticing the smell of grilled fish" he said smilingly.
"Want some?" I asked. "There's plenty for both of us."
"I'd very much like to" he said, almost greedily. The way he almost devoured the food, made me ask if he had not eaten for several days.
"I live off what I can find of berries and insects" he replied with a mouth full of food. "Now and then I have been able to steal a hen from a nearby farmer, but I do not remember when I last had such a delicious meal. It surpasses at least the taste of rats" he said with a strange sarcasm that left me with a slight doubt as to whether he actually meant it.
I found out that Gauldoth like myself, was very fascinated by nature and its magic. We talked untill late in the evening. About magic, about the universe, about everything.
The tree in front of me moved. A proof of nature's amazing magic. Maybe it can help me gain an understanding of nature's magic.
"Hello stranger" it said friendly. "What are you doing out here in the woods?"
"I am a young battle mage, Mudgeon. I've heard a lot about the magic of nature and I seek to understand how this kind of magic works."
"I myself was a mighty warrior once. In the old world. Now my roots go too deep for me to walk around. But the animals of the forest keep me informed. This little bird on my branch, says that lately trolls has been sighted several places in the woods. We are certainly not happy about this. They cut down the trees and beat animals to death. They have no respect for nature!"
The Ents voice was raised. "If you could do us the favour of chasing the trolls out of our woods, I will help you understand the magic that flourish in the wild." The Ent communicated with the bird. "My little purple bird friends will assist you in finding all the trolls in the forest."
After having searched the entire forest for trolls, I rode back to the Ent.
"It appears that you have hunted down all the trolls in the woods, young Mudgeon. I wish could have been of assistance myself, especially because these trolls, not to mention orcs and goblins, have a habit of recklessly cutting down trees and destroying nature. You have truly performed a great service for this forest and us trees, with your deed. How may I thank you?"
"I was hoping you could help me understand how the magic of nature works" I replied.
"The magic of nature is everywhere. In the soil. In the air. Everywhere around us. But unfortunately I cannot teach you to master nature magic. If you seek understanding and learning, I suggest that you look deeper inside the forest."
I thanked for the advice, although it bothered me that after having searched the entire forest to hunt down all trolls, I ended up with some advice instead of an answer.
I spotted a group of goblin knights who were about to attack a unicorn. Before I had time to tighten my bow, they cut off its horn. Immediately it fell to the ground, as if all life energy had suddenly been sucked out of it. The goblins shouted triumphantly. I fired an arrow that hit one of the goblins in the throat. It fell dead. The one, who appeared to be the leader of the group, aimed the horn at me and suddenly a fireball fired at me. I barely escaped as the tree next to me burst into flames. I drew my sword and ran towards them.
I was in Vitross to buy supplies when a group of outraged peasants suddenly came into the city. Many of them were armed with pitchforks, sickles and scythes. They pulled a wagon behind them. A large crowd quickly gathered around them and more shouted. I couldn't see what was happening, but something came into view behind the wagon as I approached. It was a male person. His tattered and worn out clothes revealed scrathces and skin abrasions on his body. This implied that they had dragged him for several miles. But I couldn't see his face. Several more people flocked around. The person was taken to the city centre, where he was tied to a stake. Bundles of dry branches and twigs were tossed around his feet.
An officer, in shiny armour, stepped out of the crowd. "In the name of Queen Emilia Nighthaven and Great Arcan, I put you to everlasting death, creature!" said the confident officer.
"I am innocent!" shouted the man at the stake. "I have only killed a few chickens!"
There was something familiar about that voice. I was sure I had heard it before.
" He's the one who ate my son!" someone screamed from the crowd.
"Burn him!" others yelled. A drunkard contributed, "He owes me a beer!"
The moment the officer stepped forward and lowered the torch, I could see the person's face. It was Gauldoth!
"Your kind is never innocent" said the officer.
I had never really thought of the fact that Gauldoth was a necromancer. Understandably, people often condemned these people circumventing with the dead, but something had told me that Gauldoth was different. He had told me that as a child he had been held captive by a vampire, until his master had saved him. He had never known otherwise. I had never felt anything bad in Gauldoth. I was sure that he was innocent as he claimed, but before I could react, Gauldoth suddenly raised his hands over his head, and seconds later I felt a paralyzing chill running through my muscles. It was as if everything stopped. Gauldoth jumped over the fire and fled. That was the last time I saw him.
It's usually not easy to see the difference between an Ent and a ordinary tree, but this Ent was hard to miss. Or rather difficult to ignore. It complained loudly. As I approached the large tree, it directed its gaze at me.
"Help me young man, won't you be so kind? These fairies have troubled me for weeks. I've tried to shove them away with my branches, but they're too fast. They keep me awake every night. And when you're 539 years old, as I am, now and then you just want to be able to sleep."
I looked to the top of the large tree. I could see three small flares fly around. Those must be the fairies he talked about.
"But how will I be able to catch them?" I asked hopelessly. "They're both small and fast."
"You look like a sorcerer. Don't you know a spell that can paralyze them briefly or freeze them into ice?" the old tree asked almost pleadingly.
"Sorry. I can slow them, but they are still too high up for me to catch them. If I could get a butterfly net, I might be able to capture them."
The tree looked at me with hope in its eyes. "I'll be very grateful if you could find such a net and capture them for me."
"Finally" the Ent muttered when it saw me coming toward it, while I proudly held up the fishing net I had brought with me.
I cast a spell that slowed them. But they were still too high above for me to reach them from the ground.
"You have to climb up, in order to catch them" the Ent said with a slighty irritated voice. "Ouch! You're standing on my nose!" it suddenly exclaimed.
I apologized and hurried up higher.
"Now I suppose you have wiped off your boots before you started climbing?"
I didn't answer. I was now about five or six meters up and clung myself to the thick branches. I was very concentrated. With one arm I held around the branch while I swung the net with the other. After a great effort I finally succeeded capturing the fairies. One by one I gently picked them up from the net and put them in a small leather bag I had hanging by the hip.
When I once again stood firmly on the ground, the Ent said.
"I am deeply grateful to you young ..?"
"Mudgeon" I replied, and stepped in front of the Ent.
"..Mudgeon. How may I thank you?"
"I seek to understand the magic that exists in nature. Perhaps you can help me?"
" I sense that you have good intentions and a pure heart. Nature and its magic exist everywhere, yet there is something very special about a forest. Something that is not found in open areas. Deep within a forest lays the heart of the forest. There you will find the answer, young Mudgeon. There you will.. find.. the answer.. zzz .."
I held the bag with the fairies up. "But what should I do with them?"
"Zzzzz ... Bring them with you" the Ent replied without opening an eye.
There was yet another Ent. One of the forest guards.
Perhaps it could point me in the direction of the forest's heart.
I rode up to the big tree. "Hi, my name is Mudgeon. I'm trying to gain understanding of nature's magic. I have met others of your kind. Other Ents. One told me about something you call the heart of the forest. Can you tell me more about this place?"
"The heart of the forest, huh? Yes, well it must be obvious to anyone, that all living things must have a heart" replied the Ent enigmatic.
"Speaking of living. A larger group of elves lives around here. They train white tigers. If you could bring 25 white tigers here, for them to train, I shall see what I can do for you" the Ent replied.
"Where can I find these white tigers?" I asked, slightly annoyed.
"They live hidden in caves in the north-eastern part of the forest. But they are very territorial, and at this time of year when they have pups, you're not likely to get out alive, entering their caves."
The tree whistled to a bird sitting on one of its branches. After a brief conversation the bird flew, and soon after an elf came from behind the tree. He wore a piece of cloth with outstretched arms, while he kept his face away. He handed me the cloth that proved to be a pair of pants.
"What shall I do with them?" I asked the Ent "..And what's that disgusting smell?" The smell was so harsh that it was just before it made me wanna wommit.
"Urine from a white tiger" smiled the Ent. "The elven leader, Elwin, has managed to gain the tigers trust because of these pants. Maybe you'll be just as lucky too, gaining their trust so that you can bring them here to be trained."
How reassuring, I thought to myself. Not only did I have to wear these smelly pants, but I had no guarantee from being eaten by a bunch of protective tiger mothers.
"Aren't they beautiful?" The Ent asked me as I rode up with an entourage of at least 25 white tigers. "They are incredibly intelligent animals, these white tigers. And very loyal. They do no harm to those who have good intentions toward them. And that you may have had since they've come along with you" said the tree in an acknowledging tone.
I had begun feeling that these Ents were testing me. But on the other hand I could understand if they did. I tried to find the most sacred place of the forest. So I guess it was only understandable if they wanted to know about people's intentions, before revealing its location.
"Let the elves take over. They are masters of the training these magnificent animals."
Out from behind the tree, came a group of elves who took the white tigers along with them. I hadn't noticed the elves before they suddenly appeared from behind the tree. I could hear some rustling in the trees to my right. I wondered how many elves, had been hiding in the trees around me? If my appearance had been the least hostile, I would've hardly stood a chance. I probably wouldn't have managed to notice anything before it would be too late. My sudden fear caused by my thoughts, must have been noticealbe.
"There's no need to fear the elves. Go along with them. I'm sure they have much to teach you."
Two elves, which had appeared from my right, came towards me to accompany me."The heart of the forest, where can I find this place?" I hastened to ask.
" Not far from here to the north" replied The Ent with a smile.
I followed the two elves. The elves lived in huts in the trees. They offered to improve my archery skills. They had a training ground hidden among the trees. I was greeted by their leader, Elwin and his wife Shaera. Shaera had long red hair, while Elwin wore a large purple hat with three peacock feathers in it. His entire outfit was altogether very purple. On his left arm sat a falcon. Suddenly I remembered the Ent who was troubled by mice. I told him about the poor Ent and how the darn mice had starting chewing on his roots. They laughed for a while of the story, and then Elwin sent off his falcon. He thanked me for the white tigers and offered me to dine with them. That evening was a pure feast. The best meal I have had for a long time. I suddenly thought of Gauldoth. I had not seen him since he had succeeded to escape from the fire in Vitross. I hoped fervently that he had made it.
"Oh, hello again young man. Have you heard? You won't believe it, but a few days ago a falcon came by and caught the poor family. None of them escaped the falcon's claws. You wouldn't have anything to do with it?" the tree asked smiling.
"Maybe" I replied, smiling back.
"That was nice, getting rid of those darn mice. But I could hardly ask for yet another favour?"
"Well, what is it then?" I said questioningly.
"Well you see that woodpecker sitting there on the sign? Now ever since the mice disappeared, it has been sitting on me, pecking me in my head. And every time I wave it away with my branches, shortly after it comes back. Will you look at that hole, it has already made. As if I would have any worms. Couldn't you shoot one of your arrows at it? "
"Sure" I replied and strained an arrow to my bow. "Do you really want me to shoot it?" I asked, holding the arrow well strained.
"Yes! I won't allow it to come here and peck me in the head unpunished!" the tree growled.
Within seconds I let go of the arrow. Atleast I now knew what was on for dinner. Furthermore, I did not recall ever having tasted woodpecker before.
I stood in front of a large gate. In front of the gate two stone statues were standing. There was a strange glow around them. There was a strange touch of magic and life about the place. I had a bad feeling inside. As if something was wrong. That everything wasn't as it seemed. The wind increased. I picked up a handful of pebbles and threw them on one of the statues. Nothing happened. This had to be the forest's heart. But why did I have these fears? Did I doubt my intentions?
I stared for a long time at the two stone statues which stood on each side of the Entrance. A powerful green glow glowed around each of them. Step by step, my horse slowly moved closer and closer. The statues were so lifelike and every moment I expected that they would come to life and attack me. But they didn't. Instead, I could easily ride into the heart of the forest.
I arrived at the heart of the forest. Everything was buzzing with life and magic. Everywhere there were sprites, fairies and animals of all colours and shades. Small white and pink leafes whirled around, carried by the wind which was light and fresh. I found my little leather pouch.
YOU (yes, you there behind the screen), you had probably forgotten all about the little fairies, eh? I hadn't. I had cared for them. I used to open a small hole in the bag, just big enough for a berry to fall through. But now it was time to unleash them. I opened the bag, but nothing happened. I looked inside the bag. Swujsh, they flew up, right past my head and over to some very colourful mushrooms, which were close by. I went further in. There stood a huuuge tree. It must have been at least 3 meters in diameter and 30 meters high. And of course it was an Ent.
"Is this the forests heart?" I shouted up at the tall tree.
"Yes. The most sacred place in the forest. And you must be Mudgeon. The young battle mage."
"Yes, but how do you know my name?" I asked surprised.
"I hear everything that goes on in this forest. I've heard that you have been most helpful to my kind. You have shown yourself worthy to gain access to this sacred place."
I remembered the unicorn. "I watched a unicorn that was attacked by a group of goblins" I said with a lump in my throat while I slowly took the horn out of my bag. "I was unfortunately not in time to save it." I placed the horn in front of the tree, while I bowed my head in respect for the dead unicorn.
It's only comment was "Its part of lifes cyclus. And natures. But you have done us a great service by taking care of the horn. A unicorn horn is filled with strong magic, but the unicorn itself only uses this magic to pacify its opponent by temporarily blinding them. Should someone succeed to cut off the horn of a unicorn, it can be a dangerous weapon."
"Yes, I saw that for myself" I nodded.
An elf came out from behind the tree, picked the horn up and disappeared among the trees again. The Ent smiled at me. "I have one last task for you. Bring the Unicorns skeleton back here, and I will consecrate you in some of nature's secrets and answer your questions."
At this point it should have been obvious to me that all the forests creatures communicate with each other, each in their own way. Despite this, I was still surprised that the old Ent was familiar with my quest. It was the closest I had yet been, reaching an understanding of how nature's magic works. One last task and I would get my answer.
I came to the place where a group of goblins a few weeks ago had killed a unicorn. Although it was only a few weeks ago that it had happened, there was nothing but bones and skin left of the unicorn. One would expect that a carcass in its condition would be buzzing with flies and maggots, but it did not. It didn't even smell rotten. I tied its legs together with a rope and fastened it carefully behind my horse. I had promised to bring the unicorn to the Ent in the heart of the forest, and that promise I intended to keep.
Once again I arrived at this magical place. This time with the skeleton of the unicorn towed. Before I had time to announce my arrival, four elves were already headed towards me. They went behind my horse and cut the rope. They dragged the unicorn in netween the trees, where I suppose they buried it. I dismounted and walked up to The Ent.
"Death is a part of life" said The Ent. "We all have to die to make room for new creations."
He called what I guess was a name. From behind the trees came a handsome young druid. She wore a green cloak and had both floral wreath and feathers in her hair. She held up the cut off horn in one hand while she recited an incantation. Beside her, out of nowhere, came a unicorn exactly where she had held up the horn. I was speechless.
"That, my young Mudgeon, is a big part of nature's magic. Many mighty druids master the art of evoking many of the forest creatures. Both briefly and permanently."
I felt that I had finally found what I sought. The Ents and elves had enlightened me and given me an understanding of some of the differences in the magical guilds. It was about time that I began my journey home.
Before me was the bridge that led out of the woods. The same bridge I had ridden over several months ago when I began my quest. It had been quite educational to wander in the woods and to become acquainted with its 'inhabitants'. It seemed that Vilingu was right after all. One is his own best teacher in terms of magic. It would be nice to get back home again. Then I could show Vilingu what I have learned, and see my family again.
Prologue:
You learn throughout life. This goes for wizardry and magic as well. Mudgeon has reached a point where his master, Vilingu, don't feel he can learn any more from him. Mudgeon has gotten the basic knowledge about magic and spells. The time has come for Mudgeon to stand on his own two feet, for the first time. The time has come for The Final Test.
Map description:
Nearly 3 years have passed since Mudgeon began as a sorcerer's apprentice. Mudgeon has emerged as a natural talent, and despite the late age of him starting training, have already reached long. In his quest to understand other forms of magic, Mudgeon has travelled farther into the woods. He'll need his archery skills to catch food, and his magical abilities and skills with a sword to handle the rigors of life in the wilderness.
The Story:
It's been nearly three years since I began as a sorcerer's apprentice with my master, Vilingu. I remember that I initially thought that time went with everything else, other than teaching me about magic and spells. For a long time I didn't feel like I learned anything. Even today, I still have the feeling that I should be able to perform much more. Vilingu has always told me that when it came to magic, you are your own best teacher. That if he just gave me a piece of paper with a spell, I would not achieve the same understanding of the incatation as if I learned it from scratch. "A spell should be broken up and reassembled." Basically, I could easily see that he had a point. My late start meant perhaps that I had been impatient. Most begin their training course, even as small children. But during my time at Vilingu I had only worked with Order Magic. Vilingu had refused to inaugurate me to Death Magic. Even the more harmless spells. And Life Magic requires years of training. One can not from one day to another learn how to heal people. During my years at Vilingu, I tried to keep my fight training regularly, but much had been neglected. Since Vilingu a few weeks ago told me that he now felt that my apprenticeship with him was over, that I had gained the basic knowledge I needed, I decided to go deeper into the woods as soon as it was spring. I wanted to learn about other forms of magic, and retrain my abilities in battle. My father had taught me not to put all my trust in magic, in the event of battle. Once again I went to say goodbye to my family and was ready for the first time in my life, to having to take care of myself. I was ready to be hunting my own dinner. Prepared to have to sleep under the open sky, but not least - ready for new experiences.
A knight in black armour stood with his sword before him, and rested his hands on it.
"No one shall pass."
"What?" I asked
"No one shall pass" he repeated.
"We have no outstanding, noble knight, but I must cross the bridge."
"Then you must die" he replied.
"Then let it be so!" I said as I drew my sword.
As he came running towards me, I managed to chop off his left arm.
"Step aside now, worthy opponent" I said, and lowered my sword.
He looked at the place where his arm had been. "It's only a scratch."
I was amazed. "A scratch? Your arm is gone."
"No it ain't" he replied stubbornly.
I pointed at his arm that was lying on the ground "Well, what is that then?"
"It's nothing. I've experienced worse" he replied coldly.
"Liar."
"Come on, yellowbelly!" he shouted as he rushed toward me with his arm stretched.
"Victory is mine" I exclaimed triumphantly, having cut off his right arm.
Suddenly he came and kicked me to the ground
"Come on."
"What?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"I attack you" he said.
"You are indeed brave, noble knight, but I am a sure winner" I replied and got up. I put my sword back into the scabbard.
"Had enough?" he asked mockingly.
I rarely get angry, but this was getting too much. "Listen you stupid pig. You have no arms left" I snapped.
"Sure I do" he continued.
I pointed to his arms, both lying on the ground. "Look!"
"Mere flesh wounds" he replied and kicked me in the behind.
"Stop it."
"Coward. Coward" he taunted as he ran around me and continued kicking at me.
Once again I drew my sword as he walked towards me.
"I'll take your leg. That's it!" I cut off one of his legs, but he still jumped around.
"I will avenge myself."
I looked surprised at him "What are you gonna do?"
"Come here" he said and hopped around on one leg.
Now he would have to realize that the battle was lost. "What will you do? Bleed on me?"
"I am invincible!"
I shook my head "You're mad" I replied and walked past him toward the bridge.
"The Black Knight always triumphs. I attack! Come on then."
I was starting to get tired of listening to him, so I cut off his last leg. Now he sat upright on the ground, with no arms and legs. But he kept going.
"Alright, we'll call it a draw. Oh oh I see, running away eh? You yellow bastard, come back here and taste what's coming to you! I'll bite your legs off!" he shouted at me as I rode on.
I stood at the marketplace in Vitross as a larger group of people came rushing past me.
"A witch! We've found a witch. We've got a witch."
"Burn her!" shouted some.
A farmer grabbed me. "We found a witch" he shouted enthusiastically as he shook me.
The group continued towards the city centre, where an officer stood in his armour.
"May we burn her?" asked one. "Burn her!" yelled the mob, while still more were coming along.
"How do you know she is a witch?" asked the officer.
"She looks like one" said a farmer.
"Bring her forward" the officer said.
"I'm not a witch, I'm NOT a witch" the woman said when she was thrown in front of the officer's feet.
"But you are dressed as one" the officer replied and looked at her.
"They dressed me out"
"No, we did not!" shouted a few men while they looked at each other and shook their head.
"And this is not my nose. It's fake" said the woman.
The officer took hold of her nose and flipped it up in the forehead of the woman.
"Well?" he said, looking at the three men.
"Okay, we made the nose" they replied.
"The nose?" the officer asked.
"And the hat. But she is a witch" replied one of the men.
"Burn her!" shouted the mob and raised their pitchforks.
The officer looked determined at the three men. "You dressed her like this?"
The men shook their heads "No. No!" they replied. "Well. A little bit. She has a wart" one said, pointing at her face.
"Why do you think she is a witch?" the officer asked.
"She turned me into a newt" answered one of the men who had led the mob.
The officer looked at the man with wonder. "A newt?"
The man looked around a few times before he replied. "I got better."
"Burn her anyway" cried the two others who had also led the mob. Immediately the mob followed "Burn her!"
"Silence!" shouted the officer. "There are ways to find out whether she is a witch."
"There is? Tell us how" said one man.
"Does it hurt?" asked another.
"Tell me: What do you do with witches?" asked the officer.
"Burn them!" the mob shouted.
"Besides witches, what else do you burn?" asked the officer in a educational tone.
"More witches!" shouted one of the men who had led the way before he was shushed by one standing behind.
"Wood" replied one in the flock.
"Why does witches burn?" the officer continued.
There was a long silence while the people were thinking. "Because they are made of wood?" one replied.
"Good. How do we assure us that she is made of wood?"
"Build a bridge of her" a farmer replied.
"Can't you also make bridges out of stone?" asked the officer, once again in an educational tone. "Does wood sink in water?" he asked.
"No. It floats" one answered thrilled.
"Throw her in the pond!" shouted the mob and reached out for her.
The officer raised his hands to calm down the mob. "What else floats in water?"
"Bread. Apples. Very small stones?" more suggestions came from the mob "Applewine? Gravy! Cherries!"
The officer shook his head. "Nuts? Churches? Lead?" they continued.
"A duck" I replied as I slowly walked towards them.
The officer nodded. "Exactly. So, logically.."
"If she.. weighs the same as a duck.." a peasant continued "..she's made of wood" he answered with an enthusiasm as if he had just found a big bag of gold.
The officer looked at the three men who had led the way "And thus..?"
"A witch!" they shouted, while the crowd cheered and raised their scythes and pitchforks high in the air.
"We will use the city's largest scales" said the officer and led the way as they went to two large scales made of wood. They placed the woman in one and a duck in the other.
"Fine, remove the supports" the officer commanded.
The scales were equal. People cheered as they led the woman away.
I stood amazed. The only reason that I had answered, was to put an end to the stupidity. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that she would weigh the same as a duck. I immediately rode out of town. A witch burning was the last thing I wanted to witness.
"Oh, you there, young man.." said a voice suddenly.
"A talking tree?" I exclaimed loudly and amazed.
"Yes, really. I'm an Ent. In the old world, we were a race of powerful warriors who defended the forest. But in this new world, we could not find our rightful place. Instead many of us has planted us firmly in the ground and instead of fighting, we now share our wisdom. For a modest payment that is. But you see, I have a problem." the Ent pounded its branches to the ground below it. "Oh, those darn mice, they gnaw in my roots. Yes, I have a mouse family living underneat me and they gnaw so terribly in my roots. It won't be long before they start nesting under me. I've had mice living under me before. In the old world. Before winter, they had gathered storage. And when spring came, an acorn began to sprout, so I had to give way for the poor new tree. But you see, now I have set my roots so deeply that I can hardly leave again. Perhaps you could get a falcon? They are good to scare away mice. "
"That's a terrible situation. I will do my best" I promised.
"Oh, it would be so nice if you could be able to help me. Let me tell you of a hidden route into the forest. Maybe you can find a falcon there."
Dear diary..
I met Gauldoth for the first time today. I was hunting and had almost confused him with a large animal. I had followed a deer for a while. Every time I had aimed my bow, it had moved. It had gone into a dense shrubbery. I could hear it rustle. Branches and twigs snapped under its hooves. A crunching sound made me hesitate. I could only vaguely glimpse the shadows of it, when something arose only a few meters from me. The deer rushed away, while I instinctively directed my aim at the moving object. It was a man, somewhat higher than me, in an old wornout brown cloak. Terror shone from his eyes. An insect's leg squirmed in the corner of his mouth. That explained the crunching noise. I lowered my bow. The right side of his face was severly burned. Almost dead.
"Sorry I aimed at you, but I chased a deer in here" I said to the person. "My name is Mudgeon."
"Gauldoth" he answered, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Gauldoth. Gauldoth Half-Dead. Well, the last part I didn't found out until some time later. We have encountered each other several times since. But this was thus our first meeting. During the Reckoning, Gauldoth had been severly burned. He had survived a powerful spell that went wrong, which kept him alive, despite the fact that half of his body had been devoured by flames. Like many others he fled, through a portal to this new world. He has lived alone since then. So in the time after our first meeting, I was careful always to leave a little food for Gauldoth.
I had just inflated my campfire and was about to grill a fish I had caught a few days before, when I heard some rustling among the bushes. Quickly I drew my sword, ready to defend myself. It was Gauldoth.
"I could not help noticing the smell of grilled fish" he said smilingly.
"Want some?" I asked. "There's plenty for both of us."
"I'd very much like to" he said, almost greedily. The way he almost devoured the food, made me ask if he had not eaten for several days.
"I live off what I can find of berries and insects" he replied with a mouth full of food. "Now and then I have been able to steal a hen from a nearby farmer, but I do not remember when I last had such a delicious meal. It surpasses at least the taste of rats" he said with a strange sarcasm that left me with a slight doubt as to whether he actually meant it.
I found out that Gauldoth like myself, was very fascinated by nature and its magic. We talked untill late in the evening. About magic, about the universe, about everything.
The tree in front of me moved. A proof of nature's amazing magic. Maybe it can help me gain an understanding of nature's magic.
"Hello stranger" it said friendly. "What are you doing out here in the woods?"
"I am a young battle mage, Mudgeon. I've heard a lot about the magic of nature and I seek to understand how this kind of magic works."
"I myself was a mighty warrior once. In the old world. Now my roots go too deep for me to walk around. But the animals of the forest keep me informed. This little bird on my branch, says that lately trolls has been sighted several places in the woods. We are certainly not happy about this. They cut down the trees and beat animals to death. They have no respect for nature!"
The Ents voice was raised. "If you could do us the favour of chasing the trolls out of our woods, I will help you understand the magic that flourish in the wild." The Ent communicated with the bird. "My little purple bird friends will assist you in finding all the trolls in the forest."
After having searched the entire forest for trolls, I rode back to the Ent.
"It appears that you have hunted down all the trolls in the woods, young Mudgeon. I wish could have been of assistance myself, especially because these trolls, not to mention orcs and goblins, have a habit of recklessly cutting down trees and destroying nature. You have truly performed a great service for this forest and us trees, with your deed. How may I thank you?"
"I was hoping you could help me understand how the magic of nature works" I replied.
"The magic of nature is everywhere. In the soil. In the air. Everywhere around us. But unfortunately I cannot teach you to master nature magic. If you seek understanding and learning, I suggest that you look deeper inside the forest."
I thanked for the advice, although it bothered me that after having searched the entire forest to hunt down all trolls, I ended up with some advice instead of an answer.
I spotted a group of goblin knights who were about to attack a unicorn. Before I had time to tighten my bow, they cut off its horn. Immediately it fell to the ground, as if all life energy had suddenly been sucked out of it. The goblins shouted triumphantly. I fired an arrow that hit one of the goblins in the throat. It fell dead. The one, who appeared to be the leader of the group, aimed the horn at me and suddenly a fireball fired at me. I barely escaped as the tree next to me burst into flames. I drew my sword and ran towards them.
I was in Vitross to buy supplies when a group of outraged peasants suddenly came into the city. Many of them were armed with pitchforks, sickles and scythes. They pulled a wagon behind them. A large crowd quickly gathered around them and more shouted. I couldn't see what was happening, but something came into view behind the wagon as I approached. It was a male person. His tattered and worn out clothes revealed scrathces and skin abrasions on his body. This implied that they had dragged him for several miles. But I couldn't see his face. Several more people flocked around. The person was taken to the city centre, where he was tied to a stake. Bundles of dry branches and twigs were tossed around his feet.
An officer, in shiny armour, stepped out of the crowd. "In the name of Queen Emilia Nighthaven and Great Arcan, I put you to everlasting death, creature!" said the confident officer.
"I am innocent!" shouted the man at the stake. "I have only killed a few chickens!"
There was something familiar about that voice. I was sure I had heard it before.
" He's the one who ate my son!" someone screamed from the crowd.
"Burn him!" others yelled. A drunkard contributed, "He owes me a beer!"
The moment the officer stepped forward and lowered the torch, I could see the person's face. It was Gauldoth!
"Your kind is never innocent" said the officer.
I had never really thought of the fact that Gauldoth was a necromancer. Understandably, people often condemned these people circumventing with the dead, but something had told me that Gauldoth was different. He had told me that as a child he had been held captive by a vampire, until his master had saved him. He had never known otherwise. I had never felt anything bad in Gauldoth. I was sure that he was innocent as he claimed, but before I could react, Gauldoth suddenly raised his hands over his head, and seconds later I felt a paralyzing chill running through my muscles. It was as if everything stopped. Gauldoth jumped over the fire and fled. That was the last time I saw him.
It's usually not easy to see the difference between an Ent and a ordinary tree, but this Ent was hard to miss. Or rather difficult to ignore. It complained loudly. As I approached the large tree, it directed its gaze at me.
"Help me young man, won't you be so kind? These fairies have troubled me for weeks. I've tried to shove them away with my branches, but they're too fast. They keep me awake every night. And when you're 539 years old, as I am, now and then you just want to be able to sleep."
I looked to the top of the large tree. I could see three small flares fly around. Those must be the fairies he talked about.
"But how will I be able to catch them?" I asked hopelessly. "They're both small and fast."
"You look like a sorcerer. Don't you know a spell that can paralyze them briefly or freeze them into ice?" the old tree asked almost pleadingly.
"Sorry. I can slow them, but they are still too high up for me to catch them. If I could get a butterfly net, I might be able to capture them."
The tree looked at me with hope in its eyes. "I'll be very grateful if you could find such a net and capture them for me."
"Finally" the Ent muttered when it saw me coming toward it, while I proudly held up the fishing net I had brought with me.
I cast a spell that slowed them. But they were still too high above for me to reach them from the ground.
"You have to climb up, in order to catch them" the Ent said with a slighty irritated voice. "Ouch! You're standing on my nose!" it suddenly exclaimed.
I apologized and hurried up higher.
"Now I suppose you have wiped off your boots before you started climbing?"
I didn't answer. I was now about five or six meters up and clung myself to the thick branches. I was very concentrated. With one arm I held around the branch while I swung the net with the other. After a great effort I finally succeeded capturing the fairies. One by one I gently picked them up from the net and put them in a small leather bag I had hanging by the hip.
When I once again stood firmly on the ground, the Ent said.
"I am deeply grateful to you young ..?"
"Mudgeon" I replied, and stepped in front of the Ent.
"..Mudgeon. How may I thank you?"
"I seek to understand the magic that exists in nature. Perhaps you can help me?"
" I sense that you have good intentions and a pure heart. Nature and its magic exist everywhere, yet there is something very special about a forest. Something that is not found in open areas. Deep within a forest lays the heart of the forest. There you will find the answer, young Mudgeon. There you will.. find.. the answer.. zzz .."
I held the bag with the fairies up. "But what should I do with them?"
"Zzzzz ... Bring them with you" the Ent replied without opening an eye.
There was yet another Ent. One of the forest guards.
Perhaps it could point me in the direction of the forest's heart.
I rode up to the big tree. "Hi, my name is Mudgeon. I'm trying to gain understanding of nature's magic. I have met others of your kind. Other Ents. One told me about something you call the heart of the forest. Can you tell me more about this place?"
"The heart of the forest, huh? Yes, well it must be obvious to anyone, that all living things must have a heart" replied the Ent enigmatic.
"Speaking of living. A larger group of elves lives around here. They train white tigers. If you could bring 25 white tigers here, for them to train, I shall see what I can do for you" the Ent replied.
"Where can I find these white tigers?" I asked, slightly annoyed.
"They live hidden in caves in the north-eastern part of the forest. But they are very territorial, and at this time of year when they have pups, you're not likely to get out alive, entering their caves."
The tree whistled to a bird sitting on one of its branches. After a brief conversation the bird flew, and soon after an elf came from behind the tree. He wore a piece of cloth with outstretched arms, while he kept his face away. He handed me the cloth that proved to be a pair of pants.
"What shall I do with them?" I asked the Ent "..And what's that disgusting smell?" The smell was so harsh that it was just before it made me wanna wommit.
"Urine from a white tiger" smiled the Ent. "The elven leader, Elwin, has managed to gain the tigers trust because of these pants. Maybe you'll be just as lucky too, gaining their trust so that you can bring them here to be trained."
How reassuring, I thought to myself. Not only did I have to wear these smelly pants, but I had no guarantee from being eaten by a bunch of protective tiger mothers.
"Aren't they beautiful?" The Ent asked me as I rode up with an entourage of at least 25 white tigers. "They are incredibly intelligent animals, these white tigers. And very loyal. They do no harm to those who have good intentions toward them. And that you may have had since they've come along with you" said the tree in an acknowledging tone.
I had begun feeling that these Ents were testing me. But on the other hand I could understand if they did. I tried to find the most sacred place of the forest. So I guess it was only understandable if they wanted to know about people's intentions, before revealing its location.
"Let the elves take over. They are masters of the training these magnificent animals."
Out from behind the tree, came a group of elves who took the white tigers along with them. I hadn't noticed the elves before they suddenly appeared from behind the tree. I could hear some rustling in the trees to my right. I wondered how many elves, had been hiding in the trees around me? If my appearance had been the least hostile, I would've hardly stood a chance. I probably wouldn't have managed to notice anything before it would be too late. My sudden fear caused by my thoughts, must have been noticealbe.
"There's no need to fear the elves. Go along with them. I'm sure they have much to teach you."
Two elves, which had appeared from my right, came towards me to accompany me."The heart of the forest, where can I find this place?" I hastened to ask.
" Not far from here to the north" replied The Ent with a smile.
I followed the two elves. The elves lived in huts in the trees. They offered to improve my archery skills. They had a training ground hidden among the trees. I was greeted by their leader, Elwin and his wife Shaera. Shaera had long red hair, while Elwin wore a large purple hat with three peacock feathers in it. His entire outfit was altogether very purple. On his left arm sat a falcon. Suddenly I remembered the Ent who was troubled by mice. I told him about the poor Ent and how the darn mice had starting chewing on his roots. They laughed for a while of the story, and then Elwin sent off his falcon. He thanked me for the white tigers and offered me to dine with them. That evening was a pure feast. The best meal I have had for a long time. I suddenly thought of Gauldoth. I had not seen him since he had succeeded to escape from the fire in Vitross. I hoped fervently that he had made it.
"Oh, hello again young man. Have you heard? You won't believe it, but a few days ago a falcon came by and caught the poor family. None of them escaped the falcon's claws. You wouldn't have anything to do with it?" the tree asked smiling.
"Maybe" I replied, smiling back.
"That was nice, getting rid of those darn mice. But I could hardly ask for yet another favour?"
"Well, what is it then?" I said questioningly.
"Well you see that woodpecker sitting there on the sign? Now ever since the mice disappeared, it has been sitting on me, pecking me in my head. And every time I wave it away with my branches, shortly after it comes back. Will you look at that hole, it has already made. As if I would have any worms. Couldn't you shoot one of your arrows at it? "
"Sure" I replied and strained an arrow to my bow. "Do you really want me to shoot it?" I asked, holding the arrow well strained.
"Yes! I won't allow it to come here and peck me in the head unpunished!" the tree growled.
Within seconds I let go of the arrow. Atleast I now knew what was on for dinner. Furthermore, I did not recall ever having tasted woodpecker before.
I stood in front of a large gate. In front of the gate two stone statues were standing. There was a strange glow around them. There was a strange touch of magic and life about the place. I had a bad feeling inside. As if something was wrong. That everything wasn't as it seemed. The wind increased. I picked up a handful of pebbles and threw them on one of the statues. Nothing happened. This had to be the forest's heart. But why did I have these fears? Did I doubt my intentions?
I stared for a long time at the two stone statues which stood on each side of the Entrance. A powerful green glow glowed around each of them. Step by step, my horse slowly moved closer and closer. The statues were so lifelike and every moment I expected that they would come to life and attack me. But they didn't. Instead, I could easily ride into the heart of the forest.
I arrived at the heart of the forest. Everything was buzzing with life and magic. Everywhere there were sprites, fairies and animals of all colours and shades. Small white and pink leafes whirled around, carried by the wind which was light and fresh. I found my little leather pouch.
YOU (yes, you there behind the screen), you had probably forgotten all about the little fairies, eh? I hadn't. I had cared for them. I used to open a small hole in the bag, just big enough for a berry to fall through. But now it was time to unleash them. I opened the bag, but nothing happened. I looked inside the bag. Swujsh, they flew up, right past my head and over to some very colourful mushrooms, which were close by. I went further in. There stood a huuuge tree. It must have been at least 3 meters in diameter and 30 meters high. And of course it was an Ent.
"Is this the forests heart?" I shouted up at the tall tree.
"Yes. The most sacred place in the forest. And you must be Mudgeon. The young battle mage."
"Yes, but how do you know my name?" I asked surprised.
"I hear everything that goes on in this forest. I've heard that you have been most helpful to my kind. You have shown yourself worthy to gain access to this sacred place."
I remembered the unicorn. "I watched a unicorn that was attacked by a group of goblins" I said with a lump in my throat while I slowly took the horn out of my bag. "I was unfortunately not in time to save it." I placed the horn in front of the tree, while I bowed my head in respect for the dead unicorn.
It's only comment was "Its part of lifes cyclus. And natures. But you have done us a great service by taking care of the horn. A unicorn horn is filled with strong magic, but the unicorn itself only uses this magic to pacify its opponent by temporarily blinding them. Should someone succeed to cut off the horn of a unicorn, it can be a dangerous weapon."
"Yes, I saw that for myself" I nodded.
An elf came out from behind the tree, picked the horn up and disappeared among the trees again. The Ent smiled at me. "I have one last task for you. Bring the Unicorns skeleton back here, and I will consecrate you in some of nature's secrets and answer your questions."
At this point it should have been obvious to me that all the forests creatures communicate with each other, each in their own way. Despite this, I was still surprised that the old Ent was familiar with my quest. It was the closest I had yet been, reaching an understanding of how nature's magic works. One last task and I would get my answer.
I came to the place where a group of goblins a few weeks ago had killed a unicorn. Although it was only a few weeks ago that it had happened, there was nothing but bones and skin left of the unicorn. One would expect that a carcass in its condition would be buzzing with flies and maggots, but it did not. It didn't even smell rotten. I tied its legs together with a rope and fastened it carefully behind my horse. I had promised to bring the unicorn to the Ent in the heart of the forest, and that promise I intended to keep.
Once again I arrived at this magical place. This time with the skeleton of the unicorn towed. Before I had time to announce my arrival, four elves were already headed towards me. They went behind my horse and cut the rope. They dragged the unicorn in netween the trees, where I suppose they buried it. I dismounted and walked up to The Ent.
"Death is a part of life" said The Ent. "We all have to die to make room for new creations."
He called what I guess was a name. From behind the trees came a handsome young druid. She wore a green cloak and had both floral wreath and feathers in her hair. She held up the cut off horn in one hand while she recited an incantation. Beside her, out of nowhere, came a unicorn exactly where she had held up the horn. I was speechless.
"That, my young Mudgeon, is a big part of nature's magic. Many mighty druids master the art of evoking many of the forest creatures. Both briefly and permanently."
I felt that I had finally found what I sought. The Ents and elves had enlightened me and given me an understanding of some of the differences in the magical guilds. It was about time that I began my journey home.
Before me was the bridge that led out of the woods. The same bridge I had ridden over several months ago when I began my quest. It had been quite educational to wander in the woods and to become acquainted with its 'inhabitants'. It seemed that Vilingu was right after all. One is his own best teacher in terms of magic. It would be nice to get back home again. Then I could show Vilingu what I have learned, and see my family again.
Last edited by Anonymous on 10 Nov 2013, 22:46, edited 3 times in total.
Chapter 3 - Don't Pee In The Water
Prologue:
Water - without it life cannot exist. A human can survive no more than three days without water. Contaminated drinking water can cause illness and at worst, death. Although some plants and animals can survive long without water, however one rule applies for all creatures: Don't Pee In The Water!
Map description:
Tired of his current life as a monk, Bakrus decided to return to his old criminal career. On a shady inn, he got an offer he could not refuse. Brew a potion and pour it into 5 wells. The payment for this job was 30,000 gold coins. But what would the consequences of his act be? The prospect of being able to start afresh, however weighed too heavy for Bakrus to speculate on the consequences.
The Story:
He was tired. Not physically, but mentally tired. He was in need of renewal. Of excitement. And he needed to get laid. He was tired of the endless battle against the undead, poverty and the life as a monk. In the old world, he was a swindler who along with his accomplice emptied people's pockets, while they preached the end of the world. After the Reckoning, he felt it was time for a change of lifestyle. The universe had taught him a lesson. The old song about the boy who cried wolf, so to speak. Nevertheless Bakrus then chose a life as a monk. He found joy in the minimalistic lifestyle it was to live in a cold monastery. The joy of helping others and the thrill of fighting in the name of good, had long given him a sense of happiness and a feeling of having accomplished something. Now that feeling was no longer the same. He had begun realizing that the joy he got, returning the undead to their grave, no longer was associated with the desire for a better world. It was the feeling of robbing them of their resurrection, he had lived high on. The same concerned the necromancer. Knowing that he had robbed them of the chance to reign or the possibility of eternal life. But the undead just kept rising again and again and would go on doing so, so why waste time with the inevitable? If you can not beat them, join them, an old proverb says. Now Bakrus had no desire to die or become immortalized as an undead, but nothing had changed in relation to the old world at that point. Poverty and misery was not something that had vanished along with the old world, as well as there would always be wars between nations. The irony of fate, that had caused Bakrus to choose a life as a monk, seemed to have found new victims to trick. Bakrus certainly no longer felt its presence. So until fate once again would focus on Bakrus, he looked forward getting back to his old profession.
Bakrus was at the Robber's Hole. A shady tavern, where thieves and murderers were to be found. The innkeeper was no better himself. He tried hard to overhear people's conversations and their brag about recent crimes committed. This way he could blackmail them. Or report them if a bounty was sufficiently high. Not a person one should turn his back on. Bakrus had heard rumours that a stranger had some commissioned work, but nobody had taken the job yet. Trust was not exactly what was mostly found among thieves, and trusting a stranger was a non-existent expression for a thief. This time it seemed that there was bonus. Bakrus sat in the corner of the inn, when a stranger entered. He kept standing in the door hesitating. Bakrus took the chance and waved him over. He sat down opposite to Bakrus. Bakrus signaled to the innkeeper to have two large mugs of beer send down to them. Neither of them said a word until the beers were on the table and the host was back behind the counter.
"I hear you have a task you need taken care of" Bakrus said and took a sip of his beer. The person opposite him was wearing a long black cloak and a hood that shaded most of his face. He had no beard. And no beard stubble. Obviously, he was careful not to have special characteristics. His shirt covered his neck, but it did not look as if he had any scars. Bakrus wondered whether he was a nobleman who needed to get rid of a mistress in fear of blackmail. He wore no gloves, so you could easily see his fingers, but there were no rings. It was not a mature man's hands. And they were not marked by a hard-working life. Those hands could easily belong to a young nobleman.
The man reached into his right pocket and placed a document on the table. He kept his hand on it. With a low voice he said "Your task is simple. Brew a potion. Pour it in five wells located in this area, as well as a water source in a forest not far from here. You will get 30,000 when the task is complete."
Bakrus had leaned forward to hear what the man had said. 30,000?! Bakrus nearly spilled his beer out of sheer surprise when hearing the large amount. For 30,000 you could get most people to get rid of at least five or six families. "Brew a potion and pour it into five wells?" asked Bakrus. "What is so special about this potion since you are willing to pay so much for having it done?"
The man took the document back. "I've told you everything you need to know. The rest is written on this piece of parchment. If you are not interested, I will find another" he said, pushing his beer aside while getting up.
"Wait!" Bakrus signaled for him to sit down. Bakrus turned around. The innkeeper stared interested at them. Shortly after he came to their table and asked if they needed new supplies. Something he only rarely did. Service was not a word he understood the meaning of. Bakrus looked to the stranger. "Continue. I'm very interested."
"The task is as described. You will get 3,000 in advance and the rest when the job is complete. I will provide you with one of the ingredients and some remedies you will need. The rest is up to you to provide. It is of utmost importance that you follow the recipe precisely" said the man and put the document back on the table.
Bakrus reached for it, but the stranger held onto it.
"Do we have an agreement?" he asked.
Bakrus nodded and was allowed to take the document. He was about to read it when the man put his hand on.
"Wait reading it till you are alone."
Bakrus put the document away. "What about the payment?"
The stranger's eyes had not wandered even a single time during their conversation. "I'll leave the inn first. Outside I will hide two bottles in the bushes. Follow the instructions in the document. One of my.. men.. will locate you with the advance payment and some of the things you will need. When the task is completed, we will meet at a location, which is described in the document. Read it when you're alone and burn it afterwards." He got up.
"But how can I be sure to get full payment, if I don't know how to get in touch with you. It is a small advance compared to the price of the assignment" Bakrus said.
The man smiled in a strange sinister way before his replied "Do not worry. We will know when the task is complete. And you will get your payment." He turned to Bakrus one last time. "What was your name?"
"Bakrus" he replied. "And yours?"
"No reason for you to know Bakrus" he replied and left the inn. Even without taking a sip of his beer. He had better go out and find the two bottles the stranger were to hide in the bushes before they were found by someone else, Bakrus thought before he emptied the man's beer and left.
It was getting dark outside. Bakrus suddenly felt slightly intoxicated in the midsummer heat. He went in between the trees and began searching. Just as his 'business partner' had told him, he found two small bottles among some bushes. It was hard to see the colour of the content, but in the light of the evening sun, he could sense that it had a slightly dark colour. Almost greyish. He wondered briefly about the content, but hurried packing the bottles away. The door to the inn opened and he turned around. He could hear talking, but nobody came out. One could, however, sense a figure standing in the doorway. It was probably the curious innkeeper. He had kept a close eye on them, several times during their little meeting. Just as he several times had went over to assure that they hadn't run out of beer. He'd better keep his nose to himself, Bakrus thought. Shortly after the door was opened once again. Again there was a figure that just stood in the doorway. Nobody came out of there. He quickly packed the bottles and hurried away.
Prometheus, one of Bakrus' monastery brothers had often told the legend of Samael Ranan. The Cardinal who had been buried at their monastery. It was neither the legend itself nor the story about Ranan, which was of interest to Bakrus, no it was rather one of his former possessions. His robe to be more precise. Reportedly Ranan have had a magical cloak that made him invulnerable. It was custom for monks and especially saints to be buried with their most personal belongings. Bakrus had never seen Ranans tomb, but maybe it was worth exploring the catacombs below Munkebo. With that robe he would be safe in the event that problems should arise along the way.
He unfolded the document. His task was breifly and precisely described. But it said nothing about what he would need to brew the potion that he was to pour into the wells. Only that he had to first find an abandoned Alchemist's Lab in the northern region, where he would then get more information about that part of the task. Five city names were listed. Angel Falls, Dursey, Lenceros, Paradise and Farmerville. It had to be near these five cities that the wells were located. The location where they were to meet after the completeion of the assignment was also mentioned. A small water source near a village called Farmerville. It was appropriate enough at the same time the last goal of the assignment. From the time that the potion was poured into the first well until it was poured into the source no more than 10 days could pass. Bakrus briefly wondered about how the man from the inn was going to keep an eye on the timeline, but concluded that he might had to plan his route carefully. Just in case. He folded the document and went away.
Bakrus had never been in the monastery catacombs before. But he knew that the saint Samael Ranan was buried beneath this monastery. And he was convinced that Ranans holy garment, Robe of the Guardian, would have been buried with him, as it was custom.
Prometheus was the only one who had a key and thus access to the catacombs. Sure he was a high priest, but he was easy to manipulate and he had always looked up to Bakrus. He found Prometheus and told him that a dying man from one of the villages had asked for him on his deathbed. He immediately saddled up and rode away. Meanwhile Bakrus sneaked up in Prometheus' room and started looking for the key. Prometheus, you are too predictable he thought to himself, when he found the key attempted hidden in his Bible.
He went down into the basement where the door to the catacombs was. The door was stuck and it gave a loud slam when he finally got it opened. To his luck, there were no others. He lit his torch and went down into the cold damp catacombs. There were lots of small rooms with coffins, but none of them had names inscribed. It was impossible to know which casket belonged to Ranan and where it would be placed. He had no drawings of the catacombs, only Prometheus knew them by heart. He went around for a long time and finally found a large stone coffin in the middle of the floor in a small chamber. The coffin was decorated with nice stone carvings along the edges. At the top was carved a man lying with his arms folded. The lid was too heavy for him be able to move it himself, so he cast a spell that gently opened the coffin. There layed the remains of Samael Ranan. And indeed he was buried in his purple robe.
When they had buried him, they must have believed his staff could still be of great benefit, for it was not in the coffin. His staff was said to have the ability to resurrect the fallen. No matter, it was the robe Bakrus was interested in. He tried to lift up the skeleton, but the bones fell apart before he had gotten him straightened. Instead, he could now pull it out of the coffin, while the bones tumbled out of the robe. He held it up before him. Amazing. You couldn't see that it had laid there for more than 50 years. He brushed the dust off it. The fabric was still clear in color and were neither wornout nor moth-eaten. Bakrus hid it under his mantle and hurried up.
Back in the old world Bakrus had a female companion named Kineta. Together they had often scammed people. While he was preaching about the world's demise, she would empty people's pockets, if he hadn't already done so. There was always someone watching your back. This was reassuring, especially within their line of work. He had often thought about what might have become of her. If she had survived the reckoning. As fate would have it, just about the same time Bakrus had chosen to return to his former profession, he would bump into Kineta. Perhaps he had chosen just the right time for a career change. Everything was like in the old world, but he couldn't tell her about his task. Not because he didn't trust her, but among thieves are certain unwritten rules. One being, that they only shared the dividends that the other had seen. Greed thrives among thieves. Bakrus was no exception. The task was his as well as the profit. Although it would be nice to once again have her by his side, much could have happened since they last saw each other. Atleast for now, he would keep his task for himself.
Bakrus sat on a stone and read the document he had received at the inn. Suddenly Kineta came up behind him.
"What are you reading?" she asked.
He had not heard her come, so out of pure reflex he held the paper close to his body. "Oh well, nothing special. Just a scroll from the monastery" he replied, and hurried to pack away the document.
"I thought you had put that monk nonsense behind you, Bakrus" she said in a slightly offended tone, turning her back against him.
"I have" he replied as he got up and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him and smiled. It was obvious that she was happy about their reunion. A joy Bakrus shared with her. But not so much that he would consecrate her in his task.
Bakrus' finger skills were not what they used to be. And he would hardly be able to sneak up on people, like Kineta had just done to him. In addition, he had lived too long as a monk. He might as well kill two birds with one stone and build up his former skills, while spending time with Kineta.
Bakrus had barely stepped into the old alchemist's laboratory before three ghosts appeared before him.
In a matter of seconds, he had cast spells that would forever cause them to vanish from this earth. He looked around. The place was ramshackled. He went into the next room. There was an old fireplace, with a big black kettle infront. It was perfect. Although neither the fireplace nor the kettle clearly had been in use for several years, they were still usable. Here he would be able to work without anyone would disturb him. He felt a cold wind coming from behind. Bakrus turned around quickly and stretched his right arm against a fourth ghost.
"Wait" she cried out. "Are you Bakrus?"
Bakrus hesitated to cast his spell, but kept his hand directed against the spectre. "Who's asking?"
"I have a message to Bakrus from Baron Von Tarkin."
So that was the name of the person who was behind this. A Baron. A nobleman was behind this. Or a former nobleman. The fact that he had sent a ghost, would mean that the person he had met at the inn, either himself was a necromancer or else he was in cahoots with one. For several years Bakrus had fought many battles against such necromancers. But it no longer meant anything. Their gold was just as good as those of the living. He lowered his arm and nodded to the ghost.
"I have these remedies for you" she said and found a rolled up piece of paper along with seven small metal bottles, which she placed on a table standing opposite to the fireplace.
"Is this the.. 'recipe'?" Bakrus asked as he rolled out the paper. He was eager to get to know if this was the ingredient list for the potion he was to brew, so he looked up and asked again "Is this the recip..." His incipient irritation was replaced by amazement. The ghost was gone. It would seem that he had what he needed. Among the empty metal bottles was also a big bag. One tenth of the payment. Bakrus carefully studied the list of ingredients:
5 Mercury
The venom of three large toads
Snake Poison
Vial of Acid
Vial of Choking Gas
2 Potion of ... (Secret ingredient supplied at the inn)
He'd better hide the list of ingredients in the old tree that stood outside, just as a precaution.
There should be a swamp area just southeast of here. There it should be possible to find toads. Snakes should be easy to locate in the woods. So the challenge would be finding the rest of the ingredients.
A small group of gypsies had settled here. They were known for having lots of exoticstuff, etc. Like Bakrus, they could also be among the biggest crooks and thieves that exist. He knocked on the door. An elderly lady with an old red scarf around her head bid him welcome. Her smile revealed that she was missing half of her teeth. Her left eye was blind. She turned her head so that the right part of her face was directed against him. She pinched her right eye and looked like she was listening intently.
"Come on in, my good man. I have a large selection of healing herbs and ointments. Blessed talismans, crimped heads and much more."
Her loud voice, lead Bakrus to conclude that she must be both visually impaired and hard of hearing.
"I'm not that interested in blessed talismans or herbs" he replied very loudly. "But perhaps you have something I can use to make antidotes? You see, I sometimes attend someone who has been bitten by a snake, and it is not always certain that a healing spell is as effective as an antidote."
"Really.. Sure you won't also need some healing herbs?" the old woman asked almost mockingly, as she took several small bottles down and scrutinized the labels.
Bakrus was in no way interested in arousing her suspicion as to the things he sought, so it suited him very well take the role of the fool who had to realize that magic didn't always surpass nature. "As a matter of fact.." he muttered as he looked at the many small bottles that stood around on shelves and cupboards. "What do you have against foot infections?" he had to respond with something.
She turned around and reached up for a small bottle which was standing on a shelf. She opened it and smelled the contents. "Try this ointment. It contains salvia and forest mud among other."
Bakrus nodded impressed and smelled the contents. It smelled awful, but he'd better take it in order not to offend her. One should never underestimate a curse cast by a gypsy. And they rarely hesitate to throw one, even because of a minor insult. "I'll take this foot ointment and the snake venom. For an antidote that is" he added.
She glared askance at him. "You have not always been a monk?"
Bakrus felt as if her blind eyes stared intently at him. "In this new world, I don't think that many have been born as a monk" he answered back.
She wrapped up his things. "1.500,- gold coins" she replied dryly.
"1.500,- gold coins?" he exclaimed and pointed. "For those two things?"
She slammed the table. "Do you know how hard it is to collect snake venom!? And the ointment is handmade. Following an old family recipe, I might remind you, my good man." She straightened up and proudly raised her head.
"Sure, ma'am. These things I had not taken into account. I'm sorry." He had to control himself, not to show his otherwise bubbly frustration with these insane prices.
He turned towards the door. He stopped and looked at some of the many different crimped heads she had hanging. Suddenly, his gaze got caught by something entirely different. A long thin vial containing a thick green smoke. Choking Gas. "How much do you want for this?" he asked, holding out the vial.
"That..? It's certainly not something for you" she said with narrowed eyes. She took the vial and put it back on the shelf.
"I believe it must be up for me to decide, dear lady. How much do you want for it?" he asked and took the vial back down.
"1.000 gold coins. 2.500 for all three things" she smiled.
2.500,- gold coins. It was a pure robbery. You'd think she could sense how much gold he had with him. Though it itched in his fingers, just to take the things without paying, it would probably be an unwise decision. Who knew when he would get the opportunity to collect snake poison himself, Bakrus thought.
With a deep sigh, he handed the gypsy the 2.500 gold.
"Thank you very much" she replied and bowed several times. "Just wait a second.."
She turned around and began searching in a small box, placed at the other end of the wagon.
"Here, take this. It will bring you luck on your way."
Gosh, hurray. A four-leaf clover. "Thank you, ma'am" Bakrus said as he strenuously tried to force forth a smile on his face. He turned and walked out the door. He could have used some luck with her prices, he thought to himself.
" Now be careful with the snake poison!" she shouted after him.
It was certainly not the only thing he would take good care of. While she had looked in her box, he had grabbed her crystal ball and a set of cards that had layed on the table.
Bakrus sat with the crystal ball he had stolen from the old gypsy. Fortune tellers could see the future in such an orb. He wondered how it worked and whether there was a way in which it first had to be activated. He turned it around, but could not see anything unusual about it. Then he began staring intently into it. If only he could use it to locate the five wells, he thought as he sighed deeply. Slowly, a picture emerged. He could see a city. People trudged around, while others worked. The name of the city seemed to be Paradise. A bird took off from a branch, and it made him look up. When he looked into the crystal ball again, he could not restore the picture. Nevertheless, now he had an idea of where at least one of the wells would probably be located.
A small group of barbarians were on a raid just as Bakrus had ridden into a village. Although he no longer cared much about the people of the village, he couldn't resist himself from attacking the barbarians. There was nothing as good as a brisk little fight. Ten to one. Not fair odds. For them that is...
Not even for a moment had he been in doubt that he could handle them singlehanded. It was as if he had known in advance what the outcome would be. Had he seen it in the crystal ball? He couldn't remember it, but it was good to have with him. He took it out to admire its ability. Argh, darn it. It had a crack in the glass. It must have happened during the battle with the barbarians. Now, once again, he was forced to search for the wells the old-fashioned way. He could hear footsteps behind him, so he hid the crystal ball away. A man came up to him.
"We owe you many thanks for your heroism, dear monk. Even if it might be against your principles, I would like to hand you this bag of gold as an expression of our gratitude, on behalf of the city" said the man and held out a brown cloth bag.
"It would be ungrateful of me not to accept your gift" Bakrus replied as he smiled on the inside. It was long ago since he had been rewarded this hefty for his deeds. Often it was just with words like thank you, all kinds of praises and blessings people expressed their gratitude. His monk brothers usually rejected accepting anything of value. Food they were allowed to accept. But even this fine gesture didn't make him change his mind. He was still leaving his life as a monk.
There were three big toads in the shallows. Instead of throwing himself headfirst after them, Bakrus cast a spell which killed them instantly. He took a small knife, and cut them open slowly. Their poison glands were placed in their backs, so he gently removed all the guts until the glands appeared. He poked a hole in them with his knife and let the venom run into a vial.
Bakrus lit up the boiler and found the list of ingredients. Check, check, check.. Damn.. He was missing a Vial of Acid.. Dam! Dam! Dam! He had simply become so mad that he had unknowningly forgotten an n in damn. He was actually on the verge of becoming truly angry. With heavy steps he trudged toward the door of the rear compartment. He scowled at the bookcase that stood beside the doorway. Wait a second. There were lots of old dusty bottles. The labels were all dusty, making it hard to grasp what actually was on the shelves. He blew at the top of his lungs. And then he coughed just as heavily as he had blown. Mirth, Quickness, Binding Liquid, Acid, Healing.. Acid.. Haha. Good gracious, there was a Vial of Acid. To his luck, it didn't seem that the previous occupant of this laboratory had been busy trying to find a recipe for making gold. No, instead there were dozens of potions.
He had now with certainty gathered all the ingredients and was ready to concoct. He found the recipe and carefully added the ingredients, one by one. It was strong stuff. The fumes alone were making him light-headed. He'd better open all windows and wear a piece of cloth to his mouth, to avoid inhaling the toxic fumes, Bakrus thought. Now it just had to boil for 15 min. and then cool off before it would finally be poured onto the 7 metal bottles, he had gotten just for this purpose. Just as a precaution, he had had better burn down the alchemist lab once he was done.
A few meters ahead of Bakrus, was one of the five wells which he were to poison. He assured himself one last time, that there was no one nearby, before he took the bottle out and poured the contents into the well.
How many thoughts run through your mind before you poison people's drinking water? Well, in Bakrus' case, not that many. One can think it's tragic that people would die because of his act, but death was inevitable no matter what, Bakrus thought to himself. Besides these people never did anything for him. He was tired of hearing that you have to give and give. Hell he wanted something in return. Something for something. This simple act could mean a new start for him. And the payment was to feel. 30.000 pieces of gold. But by pouring poison in the well, all these people would help him on his way. He was sure that they would be rewarded for this in their next life. Only question was from which side of the grave they would live their afterlife. And in what condition.
It was broad daylight. A risky time to perform his task, but time was short. Bakrus' "employer" was becoming impatient and it prompted him to take risky chances. As he was about to now. He had just opened the bottle and was about to pour out the contents, when a young boy suddenly stood behind him.
"Hello" he said cheerfully.
Bakrus became so frightened that he accidentally dropped the bottle. He was certain that he had ensured that the farmers were busy harvesting and caring for their animals, before he had decided to exploit the opportunity. But he had not taken their offspring into account. Their children.
"Are you a real monk?" the little boy asked while he carefully studied Bakrus' attire with big eyes.
"Well.. Offcourse I am" Bakrus replied rather confused. He was completely flabbergasted. What had become of his bottle?
"What are you doing out here?" the boy asked before Bakrus barely had answered his first question.
"I uh .. I was thirsty" he replied with a smile. "So I went to your well. Is that ok?" Bakrus asked in a child-friendly tone.
"It is not only our well. Do you know that all are allowed to collect water from a well? Infact you can't tell anyone that they can't draw water from a well. Even if they do not live in your town or come from another nation. That's the law" he nodded and tried to look very wise. His dress indicated that his family was not just simple farmers. He had fine clothes with braces. And well groomed dark hair. Children of rich parents were the worst.
"Aha" Bakrus replied. "No. I did not know..." A splash was heard. They both turned their eyes towards the well.
"You lost something down the well" the boy said as he ran to the edge and looked down.
It must have been my bottle Bakrus thought. How fortunate. The boy leaned in over the well with his entire upper body, so that his feet no longer touched the ground. Meanwhile Bakrus glimpsed around the well, to make sure that it was in fact his bottle that had caused the splash and didn't just lie in the grass. "It was probably just my water bottle" he replied as he went around the well. As he stood behind the boy, the boy turned around and looked up at Bakrus.
He looked puzzled at Bakrus for several seconds before asking "Don't you want it back?"
"No it's okay. I'll buy a new one."
Bakrus had been all way around the well and the bottle wasn't there. The grass was not high enough for it to be hidden in it.
"Take care" he said to the boy while he began walking toward the woods. The adrenaline pumped in his body. That was close. He could have been discovered. How fortunate could one be? He could hear a slight creaking sound behind him. Bakrus turned his head as he went on. No! The fool had begun lowering the bucket down, in an attempt to get the bottle up. Bakrus increased his pace and began to run.
It was midnight when Bakrus sneaked over to the well. Unseen he poured poison into the well. Fast forward.
Bakrus had to be cunning in order to be able to pour the poison into this well. There were two towns located near it, as well as a sawmill and a mill. It was teeming with people. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to do it in broad daylight. He thought it would be less suspicious. So during the afternoon he went to get a bucket of water. He raised the bucket using a handle. He had his bottle ready. However he first led both hands into the water and drank a few mouthfuls this way. Discreetly he took out his bottle. He could feel the nervousness increase. Lots of people walked past, but they just smiled and greeted. Hmmf, atleast it had its advantages to be a monk, he thought. Bakrus opened the bottle and slowly lowered it into the bucket. He pretended that he filled the bottle and emptied the contents into the bucket. This action he repeated a couple of times pretending that he rinsed his bottle clean. He led the bottle into the bucket one last time, but without the top comming under water. All the poison was in the bucket, and if he would fill the bottle again, he didn't know whether it would spoil the effect, as the content of the bottle was limited to a pint. He slowly lowered the bucket again, when a young man came running towards him.
"Please hold the bucket for me! My throat is so terribly dry, after having grinded flour for hours."
Bakrus let go of the handle, and within a few seconds the bucket fell down the well. "Oh, I'm sorry, but the bucket was almost empty."
He send Bakrus a brief irritated gaze, but was too busy hoisting the bucket, to comment on his rude behaviour, his monk status taken into consideration. Since Bakrus didn't know how quickly the effects of the poison would show, he hurried on.
Bakrus had found the source. He opened the bottle and poured out the content. In the light of the fullmoon, he could glimpse how the fluid slowly mixed with water. It spread out over the water as if it were a piece of cloth that was dragged across a surface. He rode on to the meeting point. The cloaked person, who had given Bakrus this task, arrived shortly after. He must have had someone to keep an eye on his whereabouts, 'coz the timing was perfect. Shortly after, three ghosts stood behind him. He wore a mask so you couldn't see his face. Only his mouth was visible. He remained seated on his horse. Bakrus walked towards him.
"Baron Von Tarkin?" he asked as he stood a few feet from him. The man on the horse hesitated for a moment. He had clearly not expected Bakrus to know his identity. He sent Bakrus a crooked smile, but didn't answer.
"Is the task completed?" he asked.
"Yes, I have brought these six empty tin bottles as proof" Bakrus replied and found the bottles. "But I assume that you already know that.."
"..You dropped one of the bottles into one of the wells.." he interrupted with a nod. "And you followed the recipe closely?"
"Yes.. I can't say anything except that it smelled horrible. I don't suppose you'll tell me what the purpose of the potion I brewed is?"
"No. The agreement was that you shouldn't ask questions, except if there were any practical things you were in doubt about. As long as you followed the recipe closely, everything should proceed as scheduled. But as I said, I would advise you not to drink the water."
"Well, I've come to the same conclusion" Bakrus muttered.
"It may be that I have other assignments for you in the future. In that case I'll let you hear from me."
His horse trotted around as if it was uneasy.
"And if I want to get in touch with you?" asked Bakrus.
"Then you already know the name" he replied with a strange smile.
"Fair enough" Bakrus said. "But now I would like my payment, thank you very much."
The man tossed three bags in front Bakrus. Each of them landed heavily with the sound of coins clanking.
"Here! 27.000 as agreed. And remember that this meeting never took place."
As soon as he had come, he rode off again. So did the ghosts. It was like they vanished into thin air.
Bakrus picked up the three bags and opened them one by one. He was now 30.000 gold coins richer. Were 30.000 coins of gold worth the lifes he presumably would be responsible for? Well.. Moral qualms he had put aside long ago. And what had those people ever done for him? He had long kept their enemies at bay, and all that he had gotten in return was a dime and some dry bread. That was, when he had been around `preaching´. He was done preaching and done with monks. With this profit in his pocket, he was well secured for the time to come.
Along with Kineta he rode off to distant parts of the land. He just wanted to leave far away from here. Fortunately, his name was known to most monasteries and temples, so it was no problem finding a place to stay. Kineta went under the guise of being a poor homeless, he had taken under his wing. No one would keep the door closed to them.
They soon fell back into the old rhythm. It was easy to take adavantage of the priests' hospitality to get food and shelter, and when they had scammed just enough of the local farmers with his market sermons, while Kineta were emptying people's pockets, they went on to the next town or monastery. They managed to beg quite a lot of food and money, under the pretext that it would go to the poor homeless people who lived with the nuns and monks. Although life as a monk was over for Bakrus, the things he had learned did not go to waste. Blessings and healings were offered to all who might wish it. Against a hefty sum of money - implied.
Fate had once again found a new place for him.
Prologue:
Water - without it life cannot exist. A human can survive no more than three days without water. Contaminated drinking water can cause illness and at worst, death. Although some plants and animals can survive long without water, however one rule applies for all creatures: Don't Pee In The Water!
Map description:
Tired of his current life as a monk, Bakrus decided to return to his old criminal career. On a shady inn, he got an offer he could not refuse. Brew a potion and pour it into 5 wells. The payment for this job was 30,000 gold coins. But what would the consequences of his act be? The prospect of being able to start afresh, however weighed too heavy for Bakrus to speculate on the consequences.
The Story:
He was tired. Not physically, but mentally tired. He was in need of renewal. Of excitement. And he needed to get laid. He was tired of the endless battle against the undead, poverty and the life as a monk. In the old world, he was a swindler who along with his accomplice emptied people's pockets, while they preached the end of the world. After the Reckoning, he felt it was time for a change of lifestyle. The universe had taught him a lesson. The old song about the boy who cried wolf, so to speak. Nevertheless Bakrus then chose a life as a monk. He found joy in the minimalistic lifestyle it was to live in a cold monastery. The joy of helping others and the thrill of fighting in the name of good, had long given him a sense of happiness and a feeling of having accomplished something. Now that feeling was no longer the same. He had begun realizing that the joy he got, returning the undead to their grave, no longer was associated with the desire for a better world. It was the feeling of robbing them of their resurrection, he had lived high on. The same concerned the necromancer. Knowing that he had robbed them of the chance to reign or the possibility of eternal life. But the undead just kept rising again and again and would go on doing so, so why waste time with the inevitable? If you can not beat them, join them, an old proverb says. Now Bakrus had no desire to die or become immortalized as an undead, but nothing had changed in relation to the old world at that point. Poverty and misery was not something that had vanished along with the old world, as well as there would always be wars between nations. The irony of fate, that had caused Bakrus to choose a life as a monk, seemed to have found new victims to trick. Bakrus certainly no longer felt its presence. So until fate once again would focus on Bakrus, he looked forward getting back to his old profession.
Bakrus was at the Robber's Hole. A shady tavern, where thieves and murderers were to be found. The innkeeper was no better himself. He tried hard to overhear people's conversations and their brag about recent crimes committed. This way he could blackmail them. Or report them if a bounty was sufficiently high. Not a person one should turn his back on. Bakrus had heard rumours that a stranger had some commissioned work, but nobody had taken the job yet. Trust was not exactly what was mostly found among thieves, and trusting a stranger was a non-existent expression for a thief. This time it seemed that there was bonus. Bakrus sat in the corner of the inn, when a stranger entered. He kept standing in the door hesitating. Bakrus took the chance and waved him over. He sat down opposite to Bakrus. Bakrus signaled to the innkeeper to have two large mugs of beer send down to them. Neither of them said a word until the beers were on the table and the host was back behind the counter.
"I hear you have a task you need taken care of" Bakrus said and took a sip of his beer. The person opposite him was wearing a long black cloak and a hood that shaded most of his face. He had no beard. And no beard stubble. Obviously, he was careful not to have special characteristics. His shirt covered his neck, but it did not look as if he had any scars. Bakrus wondered whether he was a nobleman who needed to get rid of a mistress in fear of blackmail. He wore no gloves, so you could easily see his fingers, but there were no rings. It was not a mature man's hands. And they were not marked by a hard-working life. Those hands could easily belong to a young nobleman.
The man reached into his right pocket and placed a document on the table. He kept his hand on it. With a low voice he said "Your task is simple. Brew a potion. Pour it in five wells located in this area, as well as a water source in a forest not far from here. You will get 30,000 when the task is complete."
Bakrus had leaned forward to hear what the man had said. 30,000?! Bakrus nearly spilled his beer out of sheer surprise when hearing the large amount. For 30,000 you could get most people to get rid of at least five or six families. "Brew a potion and pour it into five wells?" asked Bakrus. "What is so special about this potion since you are willing to pay so much for having it done?"
The man took the document back. "I've told you everything you need to know. The rest is written on this piece of parchment. If you are not interested, I will find another" he said, pushing his beer aside while getting up.
"Wait!" Bakrus signaled for him to sit down. Bakrus turned around. The innkeeper stared interested at them. Shortly after he came to their table and asked if they needed new supplies. Something he only rarely did. Service was not a word he understood the meaning of. Bakrus looked to the stranger. "Continue. I'm very interested."
"The task is as described. You will get 3,000 in advance and the rest when the job is complete. I will provide you with one of the ingredients and some remedies you will need. The rest is up to you to provide. It is of utmost importance that you follow the recipe precisely" said the man and put the document back on the table.
Bakrus reached for it, but the stranger held onto it.
"Do we have an agreement?" he asked.
Bakrus nodded and was allowed to take the document. He was about to read it when the man put his hand on.
"Wait reading it till you are alone."
Bakrus put the document away. "What about the payment?"
The stranger's eyes had not wandered even a single time during their conversation. "I'll leave the inn first. Outside I will hide two bottles in the bushes. Follow the instructions in the document. One of my.. men.. will locate you with the advance payment and some of the things you will need. When the task is completed, we will meet at a location, which is described in the document. Read it when you're alone and burn it afterwards." He got up.
"But how can I be sure to get full payment, if I don't know how to get in touch with you. It is a small advance compared to the price of the assignment" Bakrus said.
The man smiled in a strange sinister way before his replied "Do not worry. We will know when the task is complete. And you will get your payment." He turned to Bakrus one last time. "What was your name?"
"Bakrus" he replied. "And yours?"
"No reason for you to know Bakrus" he replied and left the inn. Even without taking a sip of his beer. He had better go out and find the two bottles the stranger were to hide in the bushes before they were found by someone else, Bakrus thought before he emptied the man's beer and left.
It was getting dark outside. Bakrus suddenly felt slightly intoxicated in the midsummer heat. He went in between the trees and began searching. Just as his 'business partner' had told him, he found two small bottles among some bushes. It was hard to see the colour of the content, but in the light of the evening sun, he could sense that it had a slightly dark colour. Almost greyish. He wondered briefly about the content, but hurried packing the bottles away. The door to the inn opened and he turned around. He could hear talking, but nobody came out. One could, however, sense a figure standing in the doorway. It was probably the curious innkeeper. He had kept a close eye on them, several times during their little meeting. Just as he several times had went over to assure that they hadn't run out of beer. He'd better keep his nose to himself, Bakrus thought. Shortly after the door was opened once again. Again there was a figure that just stood in the doorway. Nobody came out of there. He quickly packed the bottles and hurried away.
Prometheus, one of Bakrus' monastery brothers had often told the legend of Samael Ranan. The Cardinal who had been buried at their monastery. It was neither the legend itself nor the story about Ranan, which was of interest to Bakrus, no it was rather one of his former possessions. His robe to be more precise. Reportedly Ranan have had a magical cloak that made him invulnerable. It was custom for monks and especially saints to be buried with their most personal belongings. Bakrus had never seen Ranans tomb, but maybe it was worth exploring the catacombs below Munkebo. With that robe he would be safe in the event that problems should arise along the way.
He unfolded the document. His task was breifly and precisely described. But it said nothing about what he would need to brew the potion that he was to pour into the wells. Only that he had to first find an abandoned Alchemist's Lab in the northern region, where he would then get more information about that part of the task. Five city names were listed. Angel Falls, Dursey, Lenceros, Paradise and Farmerville. It had to be near these five cities that the wells were located. The location where they were to meet after the completeion of the assignment was also mentioned. A small water source near a village called Farmerville. It was appropriate enough at the same time the last goal of the assignment. From the time that the potion was poured into the first well until it was poured into the source no more than 10 days could pass. Bakrus briefly wondered about how the man from the inn was going to keep an eye on the timeline, but concluded that he might had to plan his route carefully. Just in case. He folded the document and went away.
Bakrus had never been in the monastery catacombs before. But he knew that the saint Samael Ranan was buried beneath this monastery. And he was convinced that Ranans holy garment, Robe of the Guardian, would have been buried with him, as it was custom.
Prometheus was the only one who had a key and thus access to the catacombs. Sure he was a high priest, but he was easy to manipulate and he had always looked up to Bakrus. He found Prometheus and told him that a dying man from one of the villages had asked for him on his deathbed. He immediately saddled up and rode away. Meanwhile Bakrus sneaked up in Prometheus' room and started looking for the key. Prometheus, you are too predictable he thought to himself, when he found the key attempted hidden in his Bible.
He went down into the basement where the door to the catacombs was. The door was stuck and it gave a loud slam when he finally got it opened. To his luck, there were no others. He lit his torch and went down into the cold damp catacombs. There were lots of small rooms with coffins, but none of them had names inscribed. It was impossible to know which casket belonged to Ranan and where it would be placed. He had no drawings of the catacombs, only Prometheus knew them by heart. He went around for a long time and finally found a large stone coffin in the middle of the floor in a small chamber. The coffin was decorated with nice stone carvings along the edges. At the top was carved a man lying with his arms folded. The lid was too heavy for him be able to move it himself, so he cast a spell that gently opened the coffin. There layed the remains of Samael Ranan. And indeed he was buried in his purple robe.
When they had buried him, they must have believed his staff could still be of great benefit, for it was not in the coffin. His staff was said to have the ability to resurrect the fallen. No matter, it was the robe Bakrus was interested in. He tried to lift up the skeleton, but the bones fell apart before he had gotten him straightened. Instead, he could now pull it out of the coffin, while the bones tumbled out of the robe. He held it up before him. Amazing. You couldn't see that it had laid there for more than 50 years. He brushed the dust off it. The fabric was still clear in color and were neither wornout nor moth-eaten. Bakrus hid it under his mantle and hurried up.
Back in the old world Bakrus had a female companion named Kineta. Together they had often scammed people. While he was preaching about the world's demise, she would empty people's pockets, if he hadn't already done so. There was always someone watching your back. This was reassuring, especially within their line of work. He had often thought about what might have become of her. If she had survived the reckoning. As fate would have it, just about the same time Bakrus had chosen to return to his former profession, he would bump into Kineta. Perhaps he had chosen just the right time for a career change. Everything was like in the old world, but he couldn't tell her about his task. Not because he didn't trust her, but among thieves are certain unwritten rules. One being, that they only shared the dividends that the other had seen. Greed thrives among thieves. Bakrus was no exception. The task was his as well as the profit. Although it would be nice to once again have her by his side, much could have happened since they last saw each other. Atleast for now, he would keep his task for himself.
Bakrus sat on a stone and read the document he had received at the inn. Suddenly Kineta came up behind him.
"What are you reading?" she asked.
He had not heard her come, so out of pure reflex he held the paper close to his body. "Oh well, nothing special. Just a scroll from the monastery" he replied, and hurried to pack away the document.
"I thought you had put that monk nonsense behind you, Bakrus" she said in a slightly offended tone, turning her back against him.
"I have" he replied as he got up and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him and smiled. It was obvious that she was happy about their reunion. A joy Bakrus shared with her. But not so much that he would consecrate her in his task.
Bakrus' finger skills were not what they used to be. And he would hardly be able to sneak up on people, like Kineta had just done to him. In addition, he had lived too long as a monk. He might as well kill two birds with one stone and build up his former skills, while spending time with Kineta.
Bakrus had barely stepped into the old alchemist's laboratory before three ghosts appeared before him.
In a matter of seconds, he had cast spells that would forever cause them to vanish from this earth. He looked around. The place was ramshackled. He went into the next room. There was an old fireplace, with a big black kettle infront. It was perfect. Although neither the fireplace nor the kettle clearly had been in use for several years, they were still usable. Here he would be able to work without anyone would disturb him. He felt a cold wind coming from behind. Bakrus turned around quickly and stretched his right arm against a fourth ghost.
"Wait" she cried out. "Are you Bakrus?"
Bakrus hesitated to cast his spell, but kept his hand directed against the spectre. "Who's asking?"
"I have a message to Bakrus from Baron Von Tarkin."
So that was the name of the person who was behind this. A Baron. A nobleman was behind this. Or a former nobleman. The fact that he had sent a ghost, would mean that the person he had met at the inn, either himself was a necromancer or else he was in cahoots with one. For several years Bakrus had fought many battles against such necromancers. But it no longer meant anything. Their gold was just as good as those of the living. He lowered his arm and nodded to the ghost.
"I have these remedies for you" she said and found a rolled up piece of paper along with seven small metal bottles, which she placed on a table standing opposite to the fireplace.
"Is this the.. 'recipe'?" Bakrus asked as he rolled out the paper. He was eager to get to know if this was the ingredient list for the potion he was to brew, so he looked up and asked again "Is this the recip..." His incipient irritation was replaced by amazement. The ghost was gone. It would seem that he had what he needed. Among the empty metal bottles was also a big bag. One tenth of the payment. Bakrus carefully studied the list of ingredients:
5 Mercury
The venom of three large toads
Snake Poison
Vial of Acid
Vial of Choking Gas
2 Potion of ... (Secret ingredient supplied at the inn)
He'd better hide the list of ingredients in the old tree that stood outside, just as a precaution.
There should be a swamp area just southeast of here. There it should be possible to find toads. Snakes should be easy to locate in the woods. So the challenge would be finding the rest of the ingredients.
A small group of gypsies had settled here. They were known for having lots of exoticstuff, etc. Like Bakrus, they could also be among the biggest crooks and thieves that exist. He knocked on the door. An elderly lady with an old red scarf around her head bid him welcome. Her smile revealed that she was missing half of her teeth. Her left eye was blind. She turned her head so that the right part of her face was directed against him. She pinched her right eye and looked like she was listening intently.
"Come on in, my good man. I have a large selection of healing herbs and ointments. Blessed talismans, crimped heads and much more."
Her loud voice, lead Bakrus to conclude that she must be both visually impaired and hard of hearing.
"I'm not that interested in blessed talismans or herbs" he replied very loudly. "But perhaps you have something I can use to make antidotes? You see, I sometimes attend someone who has been bitten by a snake, and it is not always certain that a healing spell is as effective as an antidote."
"Really.. Sure you won't also need some healing herbs?" the old woman asked almost mockingly, as she took several small bottles down and scrutinized the labels.
Bakrus was in no way interested in arousing her suspicion as to the things he sought, so it suited him very well take the role of the fool who had to realize that magic didn't always surpass nature. "As a matter of fact.." he muttered as he looked at the many small bottles that stood around on shelves and cupboards. "What do you have against foot infections?" he had to respond with something.
She turned around and reached up for a small bottle which was standing on a shelf. She opened it and smelled the contents. "Try this ointment. It contains salvia and forest mud among other."
Bakrus nodded impressed and smelled the contents. It smelled awful, but he'd better take it in order not to offend her. One should never underestimate a curse cast by a gypsy. And they rarely hesitate to throw one, even because of a minor insult. "I'll take this foot ointment and the snake venom. For an antidote that is" he added.
She glared askance at him. "You have not always been a monk?"
Bakrus felt as if her blind eyes stared intently at him. "In this new world, I don't think that many have been born as a monk" he answered back.
She wrapped up his things. "1.500,- gold coins" she replied dryly.
"1.500,- gold coins?" he exclaimed and pointed. "For those two things?"
She slammed the table. "Do you know how hard it is to collect snake venom!? And the ointment is handmade. Following an old family recipe, I might remind you, my good man." She straightened up and proudly raised her head.
"Sure, ma'am. These things I had not taken into account. I'm sorry." He had to control himself, not to show his otherwise bubbly frustration with these insane prices.
He turned towards the door. He stopped and looked at some of the many different crimped heads she had hanging. Suddenly, his gaze got caught by something entirely different. A long thin vial containing a thick green smoke. Choking Gas. "How much do you want for this?" he asked, holding out the vial.
"That..? It's certainly not something for you" she said with narrowed eyes. She took the vial and put it back on the shelf.
"I believe it must be up for me to decide, dear lady. How much do you want for it?" he asked and took the vial back down.
"1.000 gold coins. 2.500 for all three things" she smiled.
2.500,- gold coins. It was a pure robbery. You'd think she could sense how much gold he had with him. Though it itched in his fingers, just to take the things without paying, it would probably be an unwise decision. Who knew when he would get the opportunity to collect snake poison himself, Bakrus thought.
With a deep sigh, he handed the gypsy the 2.500 gold.
"Thank you very much" she replied and bowed several times. "Just wait a second.."
She turned around and began searching in a small box, placed at the other end of the wagon.
"Here, take this. It will bring you luck on your way."
Gosh, hurray. A four-leaf clover. "Thank you, ma'am" Bakrus said as he strenuously tried to force forth a smile on his face. He turned and walked out the door. He could have used some luck with her prices, he thought to himself.
" Now be careful with the snake poison!" she shouted after him.
It was certainly not the only thing he would take good care of. While she had looked in her box, he had grabbed her crystal ball and a set of cards that had layed on the table.
Bakrus sat with the crystal ball he had stolen from the old gypsy. Fortune tellers could see the future in such an orb. He wondered how it worked and whether there was a way in which it first had to be activated. He turned it around, but could not see anything unusual about it. Then he began staring intently into it. If only he could use it to locate the five wells, he thought as he sighed deeply. Slowly, a picture emerged. He could see a city. People trudged around, while others worked. The name of the city seemed to be Paradise. A bird took off from a branch, and it made him look up. When he looked into the crystal ball again, he could not restore the picture. Nevertheless, now he had an idea of where at least one of the wells would probably be located.
A small group of barbarians were on a raid just as Bakrus had ridden into a village. Although he no longer cared much about the people of the village, he couldn't resist himself from attacking the barbarians. There was nothing as good as a brisk little fight. Ten to one. Not fair odds. For them that is...
Not even for a moment had he been in doubt that he could handle them singlehanded. It was as if he had known in advance what the outcome would be. Had he seen it in the crystal ball? He couldn't remember it, but it was good to have with him. He took it out to admire its ability. Argh, darn it. It had a crack in the glass. It must have happened during the battle with the barbarians. Now, once again, he was forced to search for the wells the old-fashioned way. He could hear footsteps behind him, so he hid the crystal ball away. A man came up to him.
"We owe you many thanks for your heroism, dear monk. Even if it might be against your principles, I would like to hand you this bag of gold as an expression of our gratitude, on behalf of the city" said the man and held out a brown cloth bag.
"It would be ungrateful of me not to accept your gift" Bakrus replied as he smiled on the inside. It was long ago since he had been rewarded this hefty for his deeds. Often it was just with words like thank you, all kinds of praises and blessings people expressed their gratitude. His monk brothers usually rejected accepting anything of value. Food they were allowed to accept. But even this fine gesture didn't make him change his mind. He was still leaving his life as a monk.
There were three big toads in the shallows. Instead of throwing himself headfirst after them, Bakrus cast a spell which killed them instantly. He took a small knife, and cut them open slowly. Their poison glands were placed in their backs, so he gently removed all the guts until the glands appeared. He poked a hole in them with his knife and let the venom run into a vial.
Bakrus lit up the boiler and found the list of ingredients. Check, check, check.. Damn.. He was missing a Vial of Acid.. Dam! Dam! Dam! He had simply become so mad that he had unknowningly forgotten an n in damn. He was actually on the verge of becoming truly angry. With heavy steps he trudged toward the door of the rear compartment. He scowled at the bookcase that stood beside the doorway. Wait a second. There were lots of old dusty bottles. The labels were all dusty, making it hard to grasp what actually was on the shelves. He blew at the top of his lungs. And then he coughed just as heavily as he had blown. Mirth, Quickness, Binding Liquid, Acid, Healing.. Acid.. Haha. Good gracious, there was a Vial of Acid. To his luck, it didn't seem that the previous occupant of this laboratory had been busy trying to find a recipe for making gold. No, instead there were dozens of potions.
He had now with certainty gathered all the ingredients and was ready to concoct. He found the recipe and carefully added the ingredients, one by one. It was strong stuff. The fumes alone were making him light-headed. He'd better open all windows and wear a piece of cloth to his mouth, to avoid inhaling the toxic fumes, Bakrus thought. Now it just had to boil for 15 min. and then cool off before it would finally be poured onto the 7 metal bottles, he had gotten just for this purpose. Just as a precaution, he had had better burn down the alchemist lab once he was done.
A few meters ahead of Bakrus, was one of the five wells which he were to poison. He assured himself one last time, that there was no one nearby, before he took the bottle out and poured the contents into the well.
How many thoughts run through your mind before you poison people's drinking water? Well, in Bakrus' case, not that many. One can think it's tragic that people would die because of his act, but death was inevitable no matter what, Bakrus thought to himself. Besides these people never did anything for him. He was tired of hearing that you have to give and give. Hell he wanted something in return. Something for something. This simple act could mean a new start for him. And the payment was to feel. 30.000 pieces of gold. But by pouring poison in the well, all these people would help him on his way. He was sure that they would be rewarded for this in their next life. Only question was from which side of the grave they would live their afterlife. And in what condition.
It was broad daylight. A risky time to perform his task, but time was short. Bakrus' "employer" was becoming impatient and it prompted him to take risky chances. As he was about to now. He had just opened the bottle and was about to pour out the contents, when a young boy suddenly stood behind him.
"Hello" he said cheerfully.
Bakrus became so frightened that he accidentally dropped the bottle. He was certain that he had ensured that the farmers were busy harvesting and caring for their animals, before he had decided to exploit the opportunity. But he had not taken their offspring into account. Their children.
"Are you a real monk?" the little boy asked while he carefully studied Bakrus' attire with big eyes.
"Well.. Offcourse I am" Bakrus replied rather confused. He was completely flabbergasted. What had become of his bottle?
"What are you doing out here?" the boy asked before Bakrus barely had answered his first question.
"I uh .. I was thirsty" he replied with a smile. "So I went to your well. Is that ok?" Bakrus asked in a child-friendly tone.
"It is not only our well. Do you know that all are allowed to collect water from a well? Infact you can't tell anyone that they can't draw water from a well. Even if they do not live in your town or come from another nation. That's the law" he nodded and tried to look very wise. His dress indicated that his family was not just simple farmers. He had fine clothes with braces. And well groomed dark hair. Children of rich parents were the worst.
"Aha" Bakrus replied. "No. I did not know..." A splash was heard. They both turned their eyes towards the well.
"You lost something down the well" the boy said as he ran to the edge and looked down.
It must have been my bottle Bakrus thought. How fortunate. The boy leaned in over the well with his entire upper body, so that his feet no longer touched the ground. Meanwhile Bakrus glimpsed around the well, to make sure that it was in fact his bottle that had caused the splash and didn't just lie in the grass. "It was probably just my water bottle" he replied as he went around the well. As he stood behind the boy, the boy turned around and looked up at Bakrus.
He looked puzzled at Bakrus for several seconds before asking "Don't you want it back?"
"No it's okay. I'll buy a new one."
Bakrus had been all way around the well and the bottle wasn't there. The grass was not high enough for it to be hidden in it.
"Take care" he said to the boy while he began walking toward the woods. The adrenaline pumped in his body. That was close. He could have been discovered. How fortunate could one be? He could hear a slight creaking sound behind him. Bakrus turned his head as he went on. No! The fool had begun lowering the bucket down, in an attempt to get the bottle up. Bakrus increased his pace and began to run.
It was midnight when Bakrus sneaked over to the well. Unseen he poured poison into the well. Fast forward.
Bakrus had to be cunning in order to be able to pour the poison into this well. There were two towns located near it, as well as a sawmill and a mill. It was teeming with people. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to do it in broad daylight. He thought it would be less suspicious. So during the afternoon he went to get a bucket of water. He raised the bucket using a handle. He had his bottle ready. However he first led both hands into the water and drank a few mouthfuls this way. Discreetly he took out his bottle. He could feel the nervousness increase. Lots of people walked past, but they just smiled and greeted. Hmmf, atleast it had its advantages to be a monk, he thought. Bakrus opened the bottle and slowly lowered it into the bucket. He pretended that he filled the bottle and emptied the contents into the bucket. This action he repeated a couple of times pretending that he rinsed his bottle clean. He led the bottle into the bucket one last time, but without the top comming under water. All the poison was in the bucket, and if he would fill the bottle again, he didn't know whether it would spoil the effect, as the content of the bottle was limited to a pint. He slowly lowered the bucket again, when a young man came running towards him.
"Please hold the bucket for me! My throat is so terribly dry, after having grinded flour for hours."
Bakrus let go of the handle, and within a few seconds the bucket fell down the well. "Oh, I'm sorry, but the bucket was almost empty."
He send Bakrus a brief irritated gaze, but was too busy hoisting the bucket, to comment on his rude behaviour, his monk status taken into consideration. Since Bakrus didn't know how quickly the effects of the poison would show, he hurried on.
Bakrus had found the source. He opened the bottle and poured out the content. In the light of the fullmoon, he could glimpse how the fluid slowly mixed with water. It spread out over the water as if it were a piece of cloth that was dragged across a surface. He rode on to the meeting point. The cloaked person, who had given Bakrus this task, arrived shortly after. He must have had someone to keep an eye on his whereabouts, 'coz the timing was perfect. Shortly after, three ghosts stood behind him. He wore a mask so you couldn't see his face. Only his mouth was visible. He remained seated on his horse. Bakrus walked towards him.
"Baron Von Tarkin?" he asked as he stood a few feet from him. The man on the horse hesitated for a moment. He had clearly not expected Bakrus to know his identity. He sent Bakrus a crooked smile, but didn't answer.
"Is the task completed?" he asked.
"Yes, I have brought these six empty tin bottles as proof" Bakrus replied and found the bottles. "But I assume that you already know that.."
"..You dropped one of the bottles into one of the wells.." he interrupted with a nod. "And you followed the recipe closely?"
"Yes.. I can't say anything except that it smelled horrible. I don't suppose you'll tell me what the purpose of the potion I brewed is?"
"No. The agreement was that you shouldn't ask questions, except if there were any practical things you were in doubt about. As long as you followed the recipe closely, everything should proceed as scheduled. But as I said, I would advise you not to drink the water."
"Well, I've come to the same conclusion" Bakrus muttered.
"It may be that I have other assignments for you in the future. In that case I'll let you hear from me."
His horse trotted around as if it was uneasy.
"And if I want to get in touch with you?" asked Bakrus.
"Then you already know the name" he replied with a strange smile.
"Fair enough" Bakrus said. "But now I would like my payment, thank you very much."
The man tossed three bags in front Bakrus. Each of them landed heavily with the sound of coins clanking.
"Here! 27.000 as agreed. And remember that this meeting never took place."
As soon as he had come, he rode off again. So did the ghosts. It was like they vanished into thin air.
Bakrus picked up the three bags and opened them one by one. He was now 30.000 gold coins richer. Were 30.000 coins of gold worth the lifes he presumably would be responsible for? Well.. Moral qualms he had put aside long ago. And what had those people ever done for him? He had long kept their enemies at bay, and all that he had gotten in return was a dime and some dry bread. That was, when he had been around `preaching´. He was done preaching and done with monks. With this profit in his pocket, he was well secured for the time to come.
Along with Kineta he rode off to distant parts of the land. He just wanted to leave far away from here. Fortunately, his name was known to most monasteries and temples, so it was no problem finding a place to stay. Kineta went under the guise of being a poor homeless, he had taken under his wing. No one would keep the door closed to them.
They soon fell back into the old rhythm. It was easy to take adavantage of the priests' hospitality to get food and shelter, and when they had scammed just enough of the local farmers with his market sermons, while Kineta were emptying people's pockets, they went on to the next town or monastery. They managed to beg quite a lot of food and money, under the pretext that it would go to the poor homeless people who lived with the nuns and monks. Although life as a monk was over for Bakrus, the things he had learned did not go to waste. Blessings and healings were offered to all who might wish it. Against a hefty sum of money - implied.
Fate had once again found a new place for him.
Last edited by Anonymous on 03 Jun 2013, 21:25, edited 1 time in total.
Chapter 4 - The Homecomming
Prologue:
On long trips the feeling of deprivation often occurs. Deprivation (to miss someone) of having been away from your family for a long time. Therefor the joy is often great at the reunion with loved ones. But how joyous an event, will it be, The Homecoming?
Map description:
It is now many months ago that Mudgeon went off to complete his time as Vilingu’s apprentice. The meeting with the forest people has taught him much, and Mudgeon now feels well prepared for life's many challenges. Therefore, he looks forward, with great joy, to showing Vilingu and his parents his magical abilities. Unfortunately, it's not going to be a happy reunion.
The Story:
The weather was good, the night I rode home. When I arrived at Vilingu Castle, I was however greeted by a terrible sight. The place was burnt to the grounds. Only remnants of a single hut remained. I got off my horse and stood for a moment and looked about at the ruins. I swallowed a lump as I walked around. There were still embers, so the fire must have ravaged a few days ago. The ruin was shrouded in smoke and steam. I could hear the crackle of branches and twigs that still burned in the edge of the wood. I went over to the well. Even if one side had collapsed, it still seemed functional. I lowered the bucket. There was still water in it. I pulled the bucket up again, went to the edge of the wood and poured the water over the fire. Burnt paper fluttered in the wind and blew about in, what until recently had been, the yard. I wondered if Vilingu had reached safety. I knew that he did not sleep heavily, and a fire this size you would have been able to see from Farmerville, which was located on the other side of the trees. There were a few remains of animal bones, but there was no evidence that neither Vilingu nor his golem had perished in the fire. I had to find out if he was safe, either from my parents or someone in the village.
I was on my way to my parents' hut, in hopes that they might know what had happened to Vilingu Castle, when I heard a cry of pain. Immediately I stopped. Obviously someone was in distress. I rode in the direction of the screams.
An old beech tree was on fire. It had pulled its roots out of the ground and stomped around frantically while it struck at itself with its branches in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire. I tried to extinguish the fire with my cape, but had to abandon the idea in fear of being trampled to death.
Suddenly it hit me. The well! With great haste I rode back to the ruins of Vilingu Castle. I filled the bucket with water and rode back and forth between the tree and the well several times. I threw the bucket into the well once more. This time there was a hollow thud when the bucket hit the bottom. The well was filled with rubble and stone, so it was hard to get that much water in the bucket. Dark clouds hung heavy and threatening in the sky. It began to rain torrentially.
I threw the bucket's contents at the tree. A mixture of water and gravel hit the tree. The rain, however, had by now put out most of the fire, leaving only minor flames and embers. The tree no longer stomped around, but loudly complained in pain, while it smothered the last flames with its burnt branches. All the leaves had long since burned off. I wondered how the tree could have caught fire. It hadn’t thundered, and it was not because of a forest fire, because no other trees were caught on fire. It was only Vilingu Castle and the large beech tree that had been on fire.
My parents! Shivers ran down my spine. I suddenly had the worst of fears. I hurried on to their hut. It was also burned. The outer walls were still there, but the roof was gone. I rushed into the hut, but there were no signs of them. The floor was completely sooted, but there were no corpses. Nothing. Neither in the hut nor in my father's workshop. I got chills. In the workshop his hammer was on the anvil. All swords were gone. It was impossible to see tracks in the mud.
I could feel how the anger began to bubble inside me. The anger was however quickly replaced by feelings of feebleness. The uncertainty about the fate of my parents made me uneasy and unhappy. Were they dead? Or kidnapped? I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. Maybe the tree knew something.
I rode back to the large beech tree. It stood completely still. Small embers could be seen allover on the now blackened bark. It crackled and sizzled. The heavy rain had subsided, but it was still cloudy. I sank into the mud in front of the tree. Thoughts rushed through my mind. Thoughts of guilt. I could have saved it. But instead of focusing on the flames, I had ridden back to my parents' hut, to no purpose. There was no trace of them. And now the tree was burned to death. How could I now get certainty about my parents' fate? And Vilingus? I could no longer hold back my tears.
The tree suddenly opened its eyes and gave a loud gasp. I raised my head. How could this happen? It looked wonderingly around, but gave no longer expressed pain. Its eyes stopped at me. It tried to grab hold of me. Large pieces of its branches and twigs fell off in the attempt. It was unable to move properly.
"Help me!" it said, gasping for its breath.
"But.. But you, you were.." I stammered as I dried my eyes.
"Something in.. the water.." it gasped while its eyes roved around.
"I'm sorry that I wasn’t able to recue you" I deplored, sobbing. "But.."
"The elves.. Fetch the elves from Tyr Fasul.. they can help me.." The tree got silent. The eyes were once again empty.
The elves of Tyr Fasul? The forest of Tyr Fasul was more than a week's journey from here, in the Nation of Ancaria. In contrast to most wood elves, I had heard that they were a warlike people.
I thought back on the memories I had of the beech tree. Strangely enough, I had never found it odd that the tree could talk. I had grown up with it, unlike the Ents I had met in the woods of Athel Loren on my journey. It had to be related to the Ents. Funny how things you’ve always been accustomed to, may seem normal to some, while it will seem strange to others.
The old beech tree had always been there for as long as I could remember. I remembered how we played around the tree as kids and often teased old Mr. Beech. Later, when we were young, we had often gathered underneat the tree to hear stories and tales. We boys were especially fond of this, because as the stories became more and more exciting or frightening, the girls would move closer and closer to us. It was years since I had last talked to Mr. Beech, but he had been a big part of my childhood. I sniffled and wiped the last tears from my eyes.
I had not been raised to be a quiter. The same had the case in my time at Vilingu. The many nights I had been woken up, in order to train, train and train. Even during the long periods where Vilingu was away, I had been forced to practice and train on my own. Back then I didn’t think that I learned anything, but now I able to better understand his philosophy, that one is his own best teacher.
If the elves could help get old Mr. Beech to bloom again, it was worth the trip. I owed it to the old beech, but it was also my hope that he would be able to tell me what had happened to my parents and Vilingu.
A heavy smoke hung over most of the village. I drew my sword at the sight of a zombie wandering around the outskirt of Farmerville. I yelled at it to get its attention. But it just went restlessly around and didn’t seem to take notice of my presence. I raised my sword and got ready to kill it. I did not hesitate a second when it turned its face toward me. With a quick chop, I stabbed my sword straight into its chest. It fell to the ground with a bump.
The head was bloated, which made it to look like the eyes had been pressed in. The skin hung loose and a slimy reddish fluid seeped out of the corners of the mouth. The clothes and hair was filled with soil, as if it had just arisen from the grave. I held my left hand up to my nose, to cover the stench. Despite the incipient decay, there was something familiar about its facial features. I leaned further down to get a closer look.
Morrex? Morrex was that you? I said to myself and slowly lowered my sword. Morrex was a good friend of my dad. He had known me since when I was little. It was as if his empty eyes were staring at me while he lay there with his mouth open. He was dead, was he not? I held my sword ready, as I anxiously waited for the zombie to get up again. But not a sound came from him. Instead, he suddenly spat out a big lump of dirt. A beetle crawled out of the lump. With some difficulty he got up again and stood and stared confused at me.
"Mu-mu .. Mudgeon?" he stuttered and then looked down at his arms.
The following second he looked back at me with a puzzled look, as if he had just awakened from a trance. Again he looked astonished down at himself before his eyes once more stopped at me.
"I'm.. I'm dead..? You have killed me..!" he said in an accusatory tone and grabbed out at me.
I stepped back and dodged his grasp. My hand clutched the handle of my sword.
I shook my head. "Yes, Morrex, truly you are dead, but I did not killed you.." Before I could say more, I was interrupted.
"Tell me, didn’t you just put your sword right through my chest, huh?" he said, pointing at my sword which was smeared in a sticky brownish fluid.
I tried to excuse myself. "I’m truly sorry, Morrex. But you were already dead, besides.."
Again, I was interrupted. He sounded furious.
"Already dead?! That gives you no damn right to cut me down! Now, since yesterday, I’ve persistently tried to dig my way up through several feet of soil, and when I’ve finally come up, I get stabbed with a sword. Do you know how hard it is to dig yourself up with your bare hands? "
He held out his hands. His nails were cracked in several places and his hands brown with dirt. In several places I could see how he had torn holes in the skin.
I got quite a bad conscience towards Morrex. "I’m sorry about that, Morrex."
I still kept my other hand close to my nose when I'm wasn’t talking to him. To say the least, he didn’t smell very good.
Morrex hesitated and then shrugged his shoulders. It seemed that his tantrum was about to cool off.
"Well, it may well be that I just lost my temper before and overreacted a little. But I had just dug me out of the ground.. so.." He looked down into the ground and avoided my gaze. "And when I also don’t exactly recall dying, well.."
I was still slightly shocked after having been verbally abused by a zombie. "It’s ok. It's probably the fewest, who manage to perceive that they die.."
"Yeah, but when you suddenly wake up in a grave and then been digging all night, then its damn obvious that you get a little annoyed, when you find out that they haven’t even bothered to wait on you. Instead you get a sword in the chest."
I looked shamefacedly into the ground. "Yes, well I am truly sorry about that.."
"Now, you shouldn’t just stand there and apologize for all eternity. I had died before you came, just so you know it."
"Wait a minute, who was supposed to be waiting for you?" I asked. Morrex looked puzzled at me. Judging from his facial expressions, he didn't quite get what I was getting at. "You said that they didn’t even bother to wait. Who are they?"
"I really don’t know" Morrex replied and shook his head. "Well, I didn’t exactly voluntarily get up from my grave, you know.. Listen, the last thing I remember is that I was very sick. We were many in the village, which within a few weeks, slowly became more and more sick. No medication helped, so they suspected the plague. As far as I know there were several other towns in the area, which also got severely affected by disease."
"But the entire village is burnt down" I said and sincerely hoped that Morrex would know just a little about what had happened.
He just shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry Mudgeon. But I was already dead, remember. If the whole village has been struck by the plague, it may well be that they have ordered the village burned down in order to reduce the risk of spreading the disease."
"Do you know if my parents had been infected? Their house is also burned down. And Vilingu Castle."
"Your parents? Bolette and Tharj? Sorry Mudgeon, but unfortunately I don’t know. I'm sorry to hear about your parents' house, but I didn’t really get out much during my last time. I hope for you that you find them.. "
There was something wrong about this. "But.. If it’s the plague that causes the town to be burned down.. Then that doesn’t explain why you got up from your grave"
"Well, now we can’t all be sleeping our days away, as you youngsters.. Listen Mudgeon, now you must excuse me, but I have other things to worry about. "
I looked at him with amazement. "Like what?"
"Well, firstly I'm dead" he replied as if it was the dumbest question he had heard in a long time. He turned around and started walking towards the village.
After a few yards he turned towards me again. "Listen, were you not apprenticed as a wizard?"
"Yes" I answered without being able to see the connection between my question and his.
"Well, couldn’t you do something about my curse then? I frankly think that you owe me that" he said, pointing at his chest.
I stood behind as he disappeared into an old windmill, where a heavy black smoke rose. I looked up at the cemetery where Morrex had come from. Was that yet another figure?
The sight of many burnt houses affected me deeply. Everywhere the ground was stained red with blood. Bones and pieces of wood were scattered around most of the village. The body of a woman lay underneath a large beam, in front of a burned out house. The crows had already removed most of the flesh, exposing the bones in most places on her body. I moved the beam. Although I believed it was on the verge of desecration, I decided to see if there was anything of use on her.
The moment I grabbed her arm, she suddenly grab hold of my shoulder and pulled herself up.
I didn’t have time to draw my sword. But it turned out, fortunately enough, that it wasn’t necessary.
"Thank you" she said kindly and stretched her back so it gave a loud crack. "I've been laying there with that beam on my back since yesterday. Unable to move or keep up."
"Keep up?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"Our Lord has raised us and commanded us to obey him, but now they’ve all left without us. And without orders, well then we'll just have to wait here."
"Your Lord?" I was very confused. Everything was burned down. My parents and Vilingu were gone. The plague had ravaged the country and the dead walked again. I was losing my grip on reality. It was just about to become too much for me. My whole world was about to disappear beneat my feet.
The lady brushed herself and turned toward what might have been her house. "What a mess" she said at the sight of the bare wooden frame that was left. "But Hubert, however" she sighed. "Though, I have always said that you had no backbone, this is simply ridiculous."
I could hear complaint coming from a pile of bones lying a few meters from me. The lady picked up a skull and began to wipe it with her burned off clothes. The skull complained loudly.
"Myria, do help me. I can’t just lie here."
"Oh Hubert, you've never been good at keeping anything together, but if you cannot even hold yourself together.." The lady went around and gathered the bones and placed them on the ground. "But what have you done, Hubert?"
"Me?" the skull cried out offended. "Hell, I haven’t done anything"
"Well, then finally the truth came out, huh?" the woman chuckled. "Perhaps that was the problem. It's like I've always said.."
"What happened to you?" I interrupted.
The lady turned her eyes toward me, and gave a few disgruntled grunts for being interrupted, before she began to piece him together, bone by bone.
"My, then you did have a little backbone afterall, Hubert" murmured the lady, and put his head on it.
"Well, first off, it was not me who did it. Someone has stolen my damn bones, I tell you" he nodded vigorously as his head was finally put on the much spoken of backbone.
"Too bad you weren’t better to show it when you were alive" she said heavily and pressed his right arm in place, with such force that his hand swung up and gave him a slap. His head spun around a few times. "Well, guess it wasn’t properly screwed on" she giggled merrily. "On my word Hubert, you are missing both of your legs, not that you've ever been good at using them to something sensible, so I take it you won’t be missing them."
The man sent me a despairing glance. And soon found out that his left hand and a few ribs were also missing.
The lady pulled her husband along the ground and leaned him up against a tree. "Listen, young man, couldn’t you make yourself a little useful and go out and help me find Hubert's missing bones?"
The crows hovered in large flocks over the village. The corpses attracted them. A group of crows had gathered in front of what, until recently had been someone's home. I could see how they used their sharp beaks to tear off chunks of flesh. Whether it was human or animal, I really didn’t want to know. The uncertainty about what had happened to my parents and the reunion with Morrex, in his present condition, was more than I could cope with in such a short time. I had no need to either see or know if it was someone I had once known, the crows now so eagerly ate of. But unfortunately it wasn’t up to me to decide.
A shadow came rushing towards the crows, who got scared away by the yelling. I ducked in panic as the many crows took off around me. I looked up at the person who had scared the crows away. It was not a shadow I had seen. It was a ghost. It watched over the corpse the crows had been eating.
I immediately recognized her.
"Ezsebeth?"
It was almost unbearable. Ezsebeth was my childhood girlfriend's mother. And also a good acquantance of my mother.
"What happened here in Farmerville?" I asked.
She had stood stooping over the corpse, but now turned her gaze towards me.
"Mudgeon?" A small smile appeared on her lips when she recognized me. The smile however, was quickly replaced by a sorrowful expression.
"That’s my dead body, lying there" she said, pointing at the ground. "It all happened so fast. I remember we woke up because of the yelling and screaming. Before we could get up to see what had happened, several of the houses were already on fire. Seconds after Rurik had opened the door, I could see a sword, penetrating his body. I froze in fear at the sight of the skeleton that appeared in the door after Rurik’s body fell to the floor. In that moment I knew that I was gonna die. I was stabbed in the stomach and collapsed." Ezsebeth held a slight pause before she continued.
Without noticing it, I had lowered my gaze to her abdomen. The big dark spot on her stomach stood in strong contrast to her white nightgown and slightly transparent spiritual appearance.
"I couldn’t do anything. Meanwhile, I could hear how the bony feet continued their walk through the cabin. The sound of the rattling bones was drowned out by screams as the door to the children's room went up. The screams however, quickly silenced."
Tears began to roll down her translucent cheeks.
"I did not die immediately. Instead, I lay and slowly bled to death. Paralyzed by fear, I was unable to save my children."
A steady stream of tears had run down her cold bluish cheeks as she told of their terrible fate.
Slowly the tears stopped again. "I saw when he came in..." she continued. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain composure. "I saw when he came into the house and raised them."
"Raised them?" I asked surprised.
"Yes, Rurik and the children. He woke them to life and took them with him. I lay back and saw when his tall bony being cast a spell. A few minutes later, the children passed me, their bodies smeared in blood. They took no notice of me. I could hear when they left the village. The sound of the many corpses, that marched out of town. Since I died, I have wandered restlessly around and watched over my mortal remains."
Of course. How stupid of me. It was obvious that this was the work of a necromancer. Who but a necromancer would awaken the dead to life? I swore that I would lift the spell that bound her to this earth, and when the time came, bury her corpse. She didn’t deserve to have to wander restlessly around forever. At the same time I swore that I would do everything to find my parents. Regardless of their fate. Even if I would have to travel around the world.
The burned door squeaked when I opened it. I carefully stepped inside. Soot and ashes lay everywhere. The smoke lay heavy, so it was like walking in fog. I went further inside. I could see a figure lying in a bed. It was a man. I held my hand under his nose, but there was no breathing. He had probably died of smoke inhalation. I found two coins and placed them on his eyelids. I turned towards the door, when I heard the sound of a coin falling to the floor. I turned around to pick up the coin, when I saw the man sitting upright in his bed. He was rather disoriented.
"What time is it? I must have overslept." He looked around with a confused expression, before he swung his legs out of bed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Oh no, now my wife’s probably gonna get mad. I had promised to paint the fence before she got home. She has always said that I'm slow and never gets the job done, so to prove that she was wrong, I promised to paint the fence while she was gone. She is visiting her sister in Dursey and will come home tomorrow, Tuesday. "
I swallowed a lump. There was no easy way to put it, what I was about to tell him. I put a hand on his shoulder "I regret to inform you this, but today is Wednesday."
His eyes were full of despair. "But then I have slept for half a day" he exclaimed.
"I'm afraid that's not quite the case sir. Besides I think you might have bigger worries than your fence" I said and pointed out the sooty window.
The man got up and walked over to the window and wiped some of the soot off. He stood motionless for a while without saying anything. He just stared blankly out the window. "It's burned?" He turned to me. "The fence is burned. And the garden..."
"..and your cottage" I said and swallowed another lump.
He put both his hands to his head "But how could I have sleep through the fire?"
"I'm afraid you didn’t.."
"What do you mean?" he interrupted.
"I mean.." I said and hesitated. "I'm afraid you're dead. And then resurrected. The entire village is burned down. I don’t know if anyone has survived, but several have arisen from death. A curse has been cast upon this area, and I intend to find out what has happened."
"Before you go, won’t you please help me find eternal rest" the man pleaded.
"Yes, but how? I neither can nor wants to kill you."
He looked down at the floor and laid a hand on his forehead. It looked like he was trying to remember something. "My brother is a priest. He always talks about how Holy Water and Exorcism is good for banishing evil."
After what I had experienced with Morrex, I wasn’t sure holy water and exorcisms would be enough. I remembered Vilingus words when I was first introduced to the realm of magic and the different types of magic that exist. I was certain he had mentioned something about a spell that could prevent the dead from being reanimated. Wasn’t it the elves who mastered this spell?
I could see a figure walking around at the cemetery, so I rode closer. Perhaps the person could be helpful. I stood just outside the cemetery fence when I saw a young man suddenly being pushed, landing on a grave. A man stood over him and took a sip from his bottle. I could hear them quite clearly.
"Come, boys! Look what I found!" shouted the man with the bottle. Three men in black suits came to him. Their dress was similar.
"What are you doing with that shovel?" Digging up a pair of stiffs?"Asked one, whose long black hair made it easy to recognize him from the others.
"Void, he is clearly one of those who f*cks corpses"said another. "A real necrofilister.
He was the most muscular of the four. He was not so tall but reasonably wide, like a small square block.
The man with the bottle turned to his friend. "Necrophiliac, you meathead!"
"He probably wears women's underwear" said the longhaired one.
Laughter spread among the four men. The young man was pulled up by the collar.
"You bloody sicko" said the man with the bottle that had knocked him over, as given him a fist in his stomach. "Yeah, mental"
All four of them kicked him as he lay down.
"Get his wallet" said the first man and walked toward the grave, the young man had stood before.
"That’s my mother you’re pissing on" the young man said when the three men had finally stopped their kicking.
He looked down at the young man, but simply laughed and squirted on her tombstone. Suddenly a hand rose from the grave and grabbed his crotch, pulling him down. I had moved closer, just in time to see a head come out of the soil.
"It's a zombie!" screamed the man while he was dragged down even further, so he now laid face to face with the buried mother.
"It wasn't my intention to piss on the dead" he sobbed before the mother ripped his belly open.
The three others tried to flee, but one of the three stumbled and fell. It was the small broad one. The mother caught up with him and he screamed as she bit him in the throat. The young man tried to help him, but his mother flung him away.
The priest had been awakened, and was now standing at the cemetery. "What in god's name is going on here?"
The two men who had been bitten, had already turned into zombies and now approached the young man who was trapped against a wall. He pulled out a syringe.
"The devil is among us" said the priest, while he looked down to the three zombies. "Stay back boy" he said to me and pushed me behind him. "This calls for Divine Intervention."
The priest jumped down in front of the young man while he roared at the top of his lungs. Smack, the first zombie got a foot in his head. He pushed the mother to her son, who quickly gave her an injection. The two zombies ran towards the priest, who stood with his back against them. But each of them ran into in a clenched fist and fell backwards.
"I kick arse for the Lord" the priest said with a fiery look as he turned towards the two zombies.
With roundhouse kicks he beat the crap out of both of them . He grabbed the arm of the little wide and twisted him around. There was a crack when his arm went off. The blood spurted out. He grabbed the other arm and repeatedly kicked the zombie in his head before he turned around and kicked the other zombie away. Then he tore off the other arm. His attention was directed at the zombie, who had pissed on the grave. The zombie took multiple hits and fell to the ground. The priest quickly spun around and with a strong kick against the legs of the armless zombies, both legs were kicked off. The zombie barely managed to roar in frustration, before his head got kicked and flew several feet up into the air.
Back to the zombie who had just risen. A quick kick behind the knees, after which the priest grabbed the zombie and tossed him into a tombstone, which broke at the collision.
For a brief moment, the priest enjoyed his victory, as the head of the first zombie landed on his shoulder and bit hard. The priest screamed, grabbed the head and threw it away. He felt his neck and looked at his bloody hand, before going into berserker mode. Screaming, he ran toward the zombie, who went around rather confused after the encounter with the tombstone. The priest leaped against the zombie, with his legs pointing directly at his chest. But instead of hitting the zombie, he was pushed away while he was gliding through the air. "Uargh" exclaimed the priest. The next sound that followed was the sound of breaking bones and cloth being torn apart. The priest had landed on the hand of a statue. He made his last convulsions, as he looked at the stone hand sticking out through his stomach. Slowly the zombie walked toward the statue and the priest. But the young man came from behind and gave him an injection. The zombie fell to the ground with a bump. Somewhat shocked by the events, and by the speed of which the previous scenario had unfolded, I walked toward the young man.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I stood behind him.
He turned quickly. The last thing I recall was the surprise in his face when he looked at me. He had stuck me with his syringe. That's all I remember.
I heard several branches and twigs break over between the trees. I tightened my bow and slowly walked to the edge of the woods.
A young boy in fine but dirty clothes, came out from between the trees. "Do not shoot!" he shouted repeatedly, almost panicky as he slowly walked forward, completely crumpled.
I immediately lowered my bow and hurried over to him. "Are you okay?" I asked gently.
The boy nodded without saying a word. His hair and clothes were full of small twigs and pine needles. He must have slept between the trees. His stomach rumbled loudly.
"Are you hungry?" I asked kindly.
"Yes. Well very much actually." His face lit up. "Have you got any food? I'm getting sick of eating berries" he said.
"Actually, you can eat the leaves from the trees here" I replied like some other wise guy.
"Sure, as if" he replied and rolled her eyes. "So you got anything I can eat or what?"
I nodded. I noticed how quickly his appearance had changed, from young and scared, to greedy and hungry.
"How old are you?" I asked and took some bread out of my saddle bag.
"Sixteen" he replied. "My name is Thorgny by the way" he said, as he greedily bit into the bread.
I took my horse down to the lake, so it could drink. "Do you know what happened here?" I asked while I filled my water bottle.
He nodded and chewed merrily and loud. "It was the dead who did that" he said, pointing toward the village. "I heard screams and saw how the fire rose up above the trees..."
It didn’t seem like it affected him the least. "Why were you out here when it happened, why weren’t you at home with your family?" I asked.
He swallowed the bread and looked peevishly into the air before he looked at me and replied. "That I just wasn't, ok?"
It didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, for he hastened to ask if I had any more bread. But for me it was important for me to get as much information as possible about what exactly had happened. The more I knew about the necromancer who had to be behind this, the greater chance I would have finding my parents. I kept asking about what had happened. Asked him to tell right from the start, what had happened since he didn’t want to be with his family. Whether he had noticed anything suspicious before the undead attack the village and how they had arrived. After prolonged questioning and insistence, I finally managed to learn a little more about him and the incident which had occurred in Farmerville.
Thorgnys parents thought it was about time he got out and earned a living. They believed that working on a farm would do him good. His interpretation of it was that they wanted to be rid of him. That he was just in the way between them and their new offspring. That could very well be the reason why he didn’t seem particular upset with the fact that his parents were now dead.
The same evening as they arrived at the farm, he ran away. He hid among the trees here at Footlake where he fell asleep. That same night he was woken by the sound of horses neighing. The bright summer nights enabled him to see from afar, two riders stopping just outside the village. He had explained how the sound of marching troops followed shortly after.
An army of undead, stopped on the other side of the lake and waited for their signal. Their many torches shone brightly. Then the sound of screams and houses burning followed. His comment that it had felt like an eternity and that it had kept him from falling asleep, had offended me. But I don’t think he meant it the way it sounded. It must have been something of a shock for him to witness, so maybe it was the easiest way to handle it, by putting a little distance to what had happened to his parents and the villagers.
He had noticed that the people from the village had become a part of the undead army. And that one of the two horsemen might have been their leader. He carried a scepter and a crown. Additionally, there were only two more who rode on horseback. The rest were walking troops. As they rode away from the village, it seemed as if one of the riders had something lying across his horse. It could very well have been a person, he believed. But most importantly, I now knew that they had come from the east and had left the village again in the same direction. I had to take Thorgny with me to the nearest town.
It was evening. We had camped for the night, when I thought I heard something. I asked Thorgny to be quiet.
"Schhh!" I shushed him and turned my head. I got up. I could see something that could be torches from a distance. Quickly I saddled up and turned to Thorgny, who still sat by the fire. "Wait here. I'll have to investigate where those sounds comes from" I said and rode away. Thorgny nodded as if he didn’t care and put his teeth into the pheasant I had shot earlier in the day.
It was torches I had seen. The summer nights were beginning to get shorter, so that many torches lit up the area. It was.. It was.. skeletons and zombies who carried the torches. As a precaution, I kept a good distance between us. But I could faintly sense a horseman, leading the way up front. Maybe my parents were among them. Although I couldn’t immediately see anyone who was tied up, there still might be prisoners. I fervently hoped that they were up front. The man on the horse stopped. He raised a sword or a wand, and shortly after a portal opened in front of him. My heart skipped a beat or two. I started galloping my horse. A ghost turned towards me for a brief moment before it disappeared along with the portal. They were gone.
"Hey! Stop! We need help!" a young woman cried, waving her arm. With the other arm she held her friend, who clearly needed the support.
"Hope they won’t rob us" Thorgny muttered skeptically before we dismounted and went to meet them.
The thought had never crossed my mind. Instinctively, I just concluded that these women were in need, but Thorgny might as well turn out to be right. Perhaps they were robbers. One had heard similar stories before.
"I could use some help here" said one of the women, alluding to her friend, she dragged on.
Thorgnys remark had made me suspicious, so I hesitated to help her at first.
Shortly after her friend started to cough. A heavy cough that certainly didn’t sound healthy. It was also clear to see that it hurt every time she coughed.
"It’s not contagious is it?" Thorgny asked and took a couple steps backwards.
I was no longer in doubt that they really needed our help, so I grabbed the other side of her friend and together we sat her on a stone. She still coughed violently, so her friend handed her a water bottle.
"My name is Mudgeon. And my friend’s called Thorgny."
The woman introduced herself. "Agraynel and my friend’s name is Damala."
"I must apologize for our hesitation, but you hear so many stories about people being robbed" I kept on.
Agraynel nodded understandingly. "No need to apologize, but you must understand that it is very important that my friend gets help. She is seriously ill."
"What’s wrong with her?" I asked.
Agraynel threw out her arms. "I'm not sure. The symptoms are many, but alternating. I’ve begun to fear that she has been poisoned, but cannot find the cause. We’ve both eaten and drunk the same things. And she certainly hasn’t been in contact with any poisonous plants."
"Tell me.. Are you elves?" Thorgny asked thoughtfully.
Agraynel nodded. The special features were hard to miss, though I hadn’t noticed them. I had been too captivated by Agraynels beautiful looks, to notice the pointy ears. She was somewhat older than me, had beautiful blond hair and a face that was indeed very pleasant to look at.
"But elves don’t live in this region. So what are you doing down here?" Thorgny asked in a slightly suspicious tone.
"We come from the Tyr-Fasul forest in the north. Our people have in recent times, there have been attempts by the swamp elves to poison our people. That is why we’ve travelled to this region, to gather leaves from the Unduko and Gazai plants, which acts as an antidote. They only exist in the area around here. We left our horses at a creek not far from here, but something must have scared them because they were gone when we returned.."
Damala interrupted. "Agraynel I’ve already told you, I'm sure that I saw a gho.." Damala had to stop her sentence to cough. A violent cough that continued for long.
Agraynel spoke once Damala had stopped coughing. "Yes, Damala believes that she saw a ghost near the creek. Meaning that a ghost must have frightened our horses away. But I have tried to explain to her that ghosts don’t move about in this region" Agraynel murmured.
"It's not unthinkable that it was a ghost she saw" I replied. "For it is no more than two days ago that Thorgny saw .."
Agraynel interrupted me. "Really it doesn’t matter. We need to get Damala to a doctor. Is there a village nearby?"
I shook my head.
"But we have seen smoke, from the other side of the hills. Are you certain that there isn’t a village or larger town?" Agraynel asked insistently.
"The smoke you've seen comes from my village, which is burned down. All towns within miles south have suffered the same fate. Nothing lies in that direction" I replied, pointing in the direction of where we came from.
Agraynel sighed and looked down at the ground.
"Did you say that you came from the Tyr-Fasul forest?" I asked as I just remembered the Ents last remark. Agraynel nodded. "Can you revive a burnt out Ent?"
Agraynel looked at me with wonderment "A burnt out Ent? Hmm.. Well, that would probably be possible" she stated.
"Then there is something to pursue in that direction. Then there is hope that I may learn what happened to my parents" I exclaimed enthusiastically and looked at Agraynel, who just looked back at me in astonishment. I hurried over to my horse and got ready to ride back to Farmerville. "What are we waiting for?" I asked and turned around. My joyous outburst was replaced by a terrible inner pain. Agraynel stood with her spear pointed at my throat.
"I am sorry Mudgeon. I wish I could have offered you our help, but I have to get Damala back to our village. Locate us in the Tyr-Fasul forest to the north, then you will get your horse back, and then may I offer you my help."
I didn’t say a word. I just stood back along with Thorgny and watched as the two elves rode away on my horse. I could feel how my eyes began to get wet without actually coming tears. The possibility of certainty about my parents' fate had been within reach for a short moment. And now it rode away.
A young man in his 30s, wearing a white shirt and brown vest, opened the door.
"You?" I exclaimed in surprise at the sight of him. It was the man from the cemetery. Who had sedated me.
"Come on in. My name is Lionel. Will you excuse me, I was just cooking."
"Where's the sh*tter?" young Thorgny hurried to ask.
"Second door on your right" Lionel answered.
I waited in the entrance hall. Suddenly I heard a scream and the sound of a door being slammed hard. Thorgny ran screaming toward me. The door to the second room on the left opened slowly. Thorgny had been mistaken of right and left.
A zombie appeared. Resolutely I drew my sword and got ready for battle.
"Wait! Don't harm it!" Lionel cried, as he came running.
"But it's a zombie!" I replied surprised.
A complaining roar came from the zombie, as it lashed out with one arm.
"Now I prefer to call them living-impaired" Lionel replied determined.
The zombie sent us a patronizing glance, and a satisfying roar before Lionel lead the zombie back to the room it came from. We followed.
It must have been the dining room. Already three other zombies were sitting there. Lionel helped the fourth in place before he began to serve. He had a tray with four bowls of porridge and a big bottle. He poured a little of the bottles content in each of the four portions, before serving them.
"Here you go mom" he said and placed a bowl in front of a female zombie. I recognized her from the cemetery.
Each person got a bowl and spoon. Lionel looked despairingly and sighed deeply before he went over to a man at his own age.
"Void, how often must I say it... use the spoon." He placed the spoon in the zombie's right hand. Void.. He had also been at the cemetery that night. The bully who had been bitten by Lionel's mother. The priest was there as well, on the other side of the table, next to a young lady with a nurse hat, whose throat had been slit. She sat merrily stuffing porridge into her mouth. A few seconds later, it ran out through her throat.
"Oh" Lionel exclaimed at the sight of this and hurried on to the other side of the table.
Meanwhile Void sat with his mouth open wide, staring intently at his spoon of porridge. "Raaub" it came from him as he opened as wide as he could and in one quick move led the spoon into his mouth. "Splat" it sounded when it passed through the back of his rotten head. One and a half inches of spoon was sticking out of his mouth while he sat sad and pitied himself. Thorgny giggled loudly as he tried to control himself.
I stood and wondered. They didn't seem hostile. Usually the undead was controlled by a necromancer, but the ones I had encountered in Farmerville had just wandered around restlessly. Lionel's mother was an exception though. She had attacked the bullies in the cemetery.
Lionel took the spoon from the young lady, pulled her head backwards and began to pour porridge straight down her throat. Meanwhile you could both see and hear how she happily munched away with her head hanging down the back.
The mother grabbed the porridge on the spoon sticking out through the back of Voids head and stuffed it in her mouth. Void started banging at the table with both hands as he tried to make a sound. He was clearly frustrated. Lionel looked at Void and sighed. On his way to the other side of the table, he looked back at the young nurse. He went back to her and lifted her head in place before he pulled the spoon out of Void's head.
The priest, who sat beside the young nurse, had been sitting and leading his right hand up her thighs for a few minutes. Now they both sat and sent each other lustful glances. The priest merrily licked his lips before he leaned forward and began kissing her.
"Stop that!" Lionel said firmly as he tried to separate them.
It knocked at the door. This sent a shiver through Lionel. He shushed them and headed toward the door. "Will you keep an eye on them?" he said adressing us.
We could hear chatter. I couldn't hear exactly what they talked about, but it sounded like he called him uncle. Lionel came back shortly after.
"You owe me some answers" I said. "How did they end up like this?"
"This house belongs.. belonged to my mother. Nearly a month before our meeting at the cemetery, she became ill. She used to fetch water from the source outside Farmerville. She just got more and more ill, so I sent for a doctor. But he could not find the cause of her illness. A nurse from Faeries Crossing took care of her during her last time" he explained, and glanced at the young lady.
Thorgny interrupted "But what does that have to do with the water?"
"I'll get to that" Lionel replied. "I don't know if you've heard it, but several cities in Ancaria were struck by a sudden but violent illness. The southern part of Ancaria, Vail's Gate and Dursey were severely affected. Farmerville, was to my knowledge, the northernmost town that was struck. It was believed to be the black plague, as it spread quickly and among large portion of the inhabitants" Lionel said and gathered the empty plates.
The four zombies were all asleep. I looked at the big bottle, which content he had poured into their food. I looked with astonishment at Lionel.
"Sleeping medicine" he replied. "Could you help clean off?"
That would explain a lot, I thought. But it seemed like he knew more than he told. In a certain tone I told Lionel "My parents lived near Farmerville. Their hut is burnt to the ground like the rest of Farmerville. There are no traces of them, so if you know something.."
He sat the plates down hard. "My mother is dead, okay! A zombie if you will. I don't know who or what is behind this, but for me it's obvious that it isn't the plague. While the nurse looked after my mother, she got sick aswell.."
"But if it's the water, why haven't you become sick?" I asked.
"Because I come from Faeries Crossing, to the west. I brought water myself. Besides, I mostly drank beer and wine, while I looked after my mother" Lionel replied. "The only way I could stand being with her" he murmured. "Listen, I work at a waterwheel and I've tasted the water down here, and it tastes different. Moreover, you get your water from wells" Lionel said and went into the pantry.
If the water had been poisoned, cities would only be able to provide low resistance in case of battle. It seemed obvious that poisoning could be the explanation. It went well in line with what I had learned in Farmerville. Namely, that a necromancer was behind this. My thoughts were interrupted by Lionel.
"Now that I've told you what you wanted to know, I might ask you to do me a favor? Soon I'm out of porridge grain and I cannot leave them alone, even just to go to town, so if you could get a couple of sacks with porridge grain for me at the miller. I'll pay you for it."
We were quite busy already, but on the other hand, I didn't want to cause the four zombies to be wandering around freely.
I knocked on the door. It opened by itself. Slowly I pushed the door completely open. The floor of the hall was covered in blood. Body parts and entrails were scattered across the floor. It smelled horrible. Thorgny rushed out the door. I could hear him puke outside. I walked down the hall with my sword drawn. I could hear knocking at the end of the corridor as well as yelling and screaming. I went down, grabbed hold of the handle, but hesitated for a moment. The knocking had stopped.
"Lionel?" I asked with my head against the door. Suddenly I heard a scream from one of the rooms on my right. I felt a shiver through my body. A screaming woman came running into the hall, followed by a raging zombie.
"No. Don't open that door!" someone suddenly yelled from the first floor.
I looked up. It was Lionel. I turned toward the door. By accident, I must have pulled the handle when the woman had screamed. 'Coz seconds later, I got knocked off my feet by a bunch of zombies, who stormed out of the door, that led down to a cellar. Lionel rushed down the stairs with a scythe in his hands. He also had a hedge shear fastened on his back.
When I got back on my feet, the entire house was filled with zombies and screaming people who desperately tried to escape the zombies.
We had barely killed the last zombie, before the floor started cracking near the basement stairs. A huge, hairy monster with long claws had risen up from the hole in the floor. Lionel's mother.
"What happened here?" I asked when it was all over.
"I realized that I had to kill them (the zombies ed.), so I injected them with poison and buried them in the basement. Later, my uncle came by, with a lot of guests, to hold a celebration here. My uncle had been interested in the house ever since my mother died, and believed that it rightfully should be his. During the party I got into a quarrel with him and he threw me down into the basement. There I found out that it wasn't poison I had given them, but animal stimulant. They rose up from the grave again and began to eat the guests" Lionel explaned, completely covered in blood.
None of the guests had survived. Lionel and I were the only ones left. Thorgny had, sensibly enough, stayed outside.
"By the way, I no longer need the porridge grain" Lionel hastened to add as we stood outside the house and he could see the bags hanging on the horses.
"No, off course not" I sighed, slightly annoyed.
"I apologize for your trouble" said Lionel. "Here, take this talisman as thanks. It will strengthen you."
It was nearly twilight when we went into the woods. A light mist spread in the dark, dark forest. We could sense shadows moving in the trees around us. The sound of branches and twigs breaking resounded in the quiet forest. Thorgny had a firm grip on my cloak, so he wouldn’t get lost in the fog. I felt my heart pounding faster and faster as we sped up.
Suddenly a knight almost twelve feet tall, in hairy armour and with twigs at the top of his helmet as antlers, stood before us. "Ni!" he exclaimed. He had a group of men standing behind him, all followed by saying "Ní" interchangeably.
They wore brown suits with fur collars and helmets that looked like something orcs and trolls would wear; elongated metal helmets with round tops that covered the entire head. On top of the helmets were big horns or branches. There was only a small slit to look out of.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"We are the knights who say.. Ni" replied the tall knight.
"No. Not the knights who say Ni" I cried and cringed.
"The same!" the knight replied proudly.
Thorgny looked at me and asked in amazement "Who are they?"
"We are guardians of the sacred words, Ní, Peng and Neee Wom" the knight replied with a shrill voice.
I leaned against Thorgny as I whispered "Those words are letal. Those who hear them, seldom live to tell the tale."
"The knights, who say Ni, demands a sacrifice" said the leader determinded.
I bowed reverently. "Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the elves who live deep in these woods."
"Ni! Ní! Ní! Ní!" the knight’s men exclaimed polyphonically.
The tall knight held up a hand to his men to signal for silence. "We shall say ''Ní'' again to you if you do not aplease us."
I straightened myself up. "What is it you want?"
"We want ..." He looked to both sides a few times with his arms crossed, before he finally replied "..a shrubbery."
"A what?" Thorgny exclaimed.
"Ni! Ní!" the knight and his men cried out.
"Please, please no more!" I begged. "We will find you a shrubbery".
The knights ceased their debilitating shouting and gave word to their formidable leader. "You must return here with a shrubbery, or else you will never pass through this wood.. alive" he said with his high pitched voice.
"Oh knights of Ni, you are just and fair " I replied and bowed once again. "And we will return with a shrubbery."
"One that looks nice" the knight interrupted.
"Of course" I nodded.
"And not too expensive" he said profoundly.
I nodded again.
"Now.. Go!" he shouted and pointed in the direction we had come from.
We rode back to a small village, located not far from the forest.
Thorgny went over to an elderly lady who stood in old rags.
"Old crow, is there anywhere in this town where we could buy a shrubbery?"
"Who sent you?" she asked, frightened.
"The knights who say Ni" I replied.
"Rrargh" exclaimed the woman.
"No. Never, we have no shrubberies here" she said with a frightened look.
I raised my voice. "If you do not tell us where we can buy a shrubbery, my friend and I.. will say.. we will say Ní" I said, trying to appear intimidating. It was the best I could think of in the situation.
"Oh" the woman moaned and shank a little. "Do your worst!"
"Very well! If you will not assist us voluntarily..."
I looked around in despair before I cried out "Ni!"
"No. Never" the woman moaned and turned away her face. "No shrub."
"Ni!" I continued.
Thorgny tried to help putting pressure on the woman. "Noo!"
"No, no, no. No it’s not that. It's Ní" I corrected.
"Noo" he exclaimed again.
"No, no. Ní!"
He tried again. "Noo?"
I shook my head. "No, you do not do it properly."
"Ní" he finally erupted.
"That’s it. You got it" I exclaimed enthusiastically.
We both turned toward the woman. "Ní! Ní!" It wasn't long before the old woman completely crumpled.
"Are you saying Ní to that old woman?" asked a man who was pulling a cart.
"Uhm, yes" I replied, slightly embarrassed by my behavior.
Thorgny nodded determined, as if it was every man's right to say Ní to strangers. And in particular, elderly women.
The man turned his face away in disgust of our behavior. "Oh, what sad times are these, when passing ruffians can say Ní at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land. Nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies, are under considerable economic stress in this period."
"Did you say shrubbery?" I asked, delighted.
"Yes. Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design and sell shrubberies" he said with a smile.
"Ni!" Thorgny exclaimed, giving the man a stare.
"No, no!" I cried out as I grasped for Thorgny. "What luck. We look to buy a shrubbery" I said smiling.
"Very well" Roger replied. "But unfortunately, as you can see, my cart is broken." Roger pointed to one of the wheels. It was broken. "Without a new wheel, I'm not going far. And the nearest carpenter is reportedly in Faeries Crossing, several days journey from here. If you could get me a new wheel and bring it to me, I shall arrange a shrubbery for you. Free of charge" Roger offered.
An old woman pulled a cart behind her.
"Old woman!" I said as we approached the woman.
She turned around. "Man!"
"Man?! Oh, sorry. What is the name of that town over there?" I asked as we walked beside the man.
"I'm thirty seven" he said and went ahead with his cart.
"What?"
"I'm thirty seven. I'm not old" he replied, offended.
"Well, I can’t just call you ’man’."
He continued pulling his cart without looking at us. "You could say ‘Dennik’"
"I didn’t know you were called Dennik" I replied.
The man stopped and looked up at me. "You didn’t bother to find out, did you?"
"I did say sorry about the old woman, but from behind you looked.."
"What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior" he said.
"Inferior? But I'm just a mage.."
"Oh mage, eh? Very nice. And how’d you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers!" he said and put the cart down. "By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society! If there’s ever going to be any progress.."
He was interrupted by an elderly woman. "Dennik! There’s some lovely filth down here." She looked at me and Thorgny. "Oh. How do you do?"
"How do you do, good lady" I replied politely. "I am Mudgeon, son of Tharj. Trained by the wizard, Vilingu. And this is my companion, Thorgny. I hope to one day serve Queen Emilia Nighthaven. But right now we are heading for Faeries Crossing. Perhaps you could inform us about the name of that town?"
"Queen of who?" she asked and looked puzzled at me.
"The Arcans" I replied.
The lady paused with her mud. "Who are they?"
"We all are. We’re Arcans. And Emilia's our Queen" I replied.
"I didn’t know we had a queen. I thought we were an autonomous collective" she said and began to slap the mud together in a pile.
"You’re fooling yourself" Dennik said to the woman and threw a big blob of mud in the pile. "We’re living in a dictatorship. A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes.."
"Oh, there you go" the women interrupted. "..bringing class into it again."
"That’s what it’s all about" Dennik nodded. "If only people would.."
My patience wasn’t for long discussions on governance. "Please, please good people. We’re in a hurry. What town is that?"
Dennik looked up at me briefly, before he continued collecting mud. "As I was saying, we’re an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week.."
"Yes" I nodded.
"..but all the decisions of that officer, have to be ratified at a special biweekly meeting.."
"I understand" I replied. I neither had the time nor the patience to be in an unnecessary discussion about something that was not relevant to us.
Dennik kept on "..by a simple majority in case of purely internal affairs.."
"Be quiet!" I exclaimed.
"but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more..
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet. "It just burst out of me. But my patience was really put to a test.
The woman stopped collecting mud and straightened up "Order, eh? Who does he think he is?"
"He’s your king!" Thorgny interjected.
I looked at him in amazement. I wondered where he got the idea of the king from? Although it was a highly criminal offense to pretend to be royal, I chose however to play along with the idea, hoping that it would silence them. One bow for the royal.
"Well, I didn’t vote for you" Dennik said snorting.
"You don’t vote for kings" Thorgny replied in a dry tone.
"Well, how did you become king, then?" asked the woman and continued to gather mud.
"The lady of the lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bossom of the water, signifying by divine providence that he Arthur.. uhm, Mudgeon.. was to carry Excalibur. That is why he is your king! "Thorgny stated. I was amazed by his answer. I wondered where he’d gotten it from.
Dennik stepped forward. "Listen, strange women lying in ponds, distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."
"Be quiet! "I ordered.
"Well, you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power, just because some watery tart threw a sword at you!" Dennik replied resentful.
"Shut up!"
He continued in a ridiculing tone. "I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor, just because some moistened bink had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away!"
I went over, grabbed Dennik and pulled him up. "Will you shut up?"
"Ah, now will you see the violence inherent in the system."
"Shut up!" I ordered as I shook him lightly.
"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, I am being repressed!" cried Dennik.
"Bloody peasant!" Thorgny said.
"Oh what a give away. Did you hear that, eh?"
A few peasant had started walking towards us.
"That’s what I’m on about. Did you see him repressing me, you saw it didn't you?"
"Halt! Who goes there?" a guard shouted from the top of the gate.
"It is I, Mudgeon, son of Tharj from the village of Farmerville" I replied.
I could see the soldier waved his hand. "Nonsense."
"It's true. And this is my trusty servant Thorgny" I replied, pointing over at Thorgny who stood scuffing the ground with one foot. "We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of a carpenter. I hear that you have one here in Faeries Crossing."
"What? ridden on a horse?" the guard asked.
"Yes" I replied.
The guard shook his head. "You’re using coconuts!"
"What?"
The guard pointed down at us. "You have two empty halves of coconut and you’re bangang them together."
"Well yes, but that's because our horse has been stolen by two elves. But only because one of them was very sick, you see. Well, we've been walking since then.."
Thorgny interrupted me. "So what? We have walked since the snows of winter covered this land."
"..through the kingdom of Ancaria" I interjected.
"Where did you get the coconuts?" the guard asked.
"We found them" Thorgny replied.
"Found them? In Ancaria?" The guard shook his head. "The coconut’s tropical."
"What do you mean?" I asked wonderingly.
"Well, this is a temperate region" the guard replied.
"The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plumber may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land" I replied.
The guard stood without saying anything. "Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not at all. They can be carried."
The guard leaned over the edge. "What? A swallow carrying a coconut?"
"It could grip it by the husk" Thorgny interjected. I nodded.
"It’s not a question of where he grips it. It's a simple question of weight ratios. A five ounce bird, could not carry a one pound coconut " the guard noted scornfully, crossing his arms.
"An ant can carry three times its own weight. And a snail can carry its own house" Thorgny replied with a supercilious glance.
"Well, it doesn't matter" I sighed deeply.
"Listen, in order to maintain air speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings 43 times every second, right?" he continued.
"Aw, come on!" I begged.
"Am I right?" the guard asked.
"I don’t care!" I shouted.
"It could be carried by an Aldamarian swallow" another guard, who had just appeared, said.
"Oh yeah!" said the first guard. "An Aldamarian swallow, maybe. But not an Ancarian swallow. That's my point."
"I agree wi
Prologue:
On long trips the feeling of deprivation often occurs. Deprivation (to miss someone) of having been away from your family for a long time. Therefor the joy is often great at the reunion with loved ones. But how joyous an event, will it be, The Homecoming?
Map description:
It is now many months ago that Mudgeon went off to complete his time as Vilingu’s apprentice. The meeting with the forest people has taught him much, and Mudgeon now feels well prepared for life's many challenges. Therefore, he looks forward, with great joy, to showing Vilingu and his parents his magical abilities. Unfortunately, it's not going to be a happy reunion.
The Story:
The weather was good, the night I rode home. When I arrived at Vilingu Castle, I was however greeted by a terrible sight. The place was burnt to the grounds. Only remnants of a single hut remained. I got off my horse and stood for a moment and looked about at the ruins. I swallowed a lump as I walked around. There were still embers, so the fire must have ravaged a few days ago. The ruin was shrouded in smoke and steam. I could hear the crackle of branches and twigs that still burned in the edge of the wood. I went over to the well. Even if one side had collapsed, it still seemed functional. I lowered the bucket. There was still water in it. I pulled the bucket up again, went to the edge of the wood and poured the water over the fire. Burnt paper fluttered in the wind and blew about in, what until recently had been, the yard. I wondered if Vilingu had reached safety. I knew that he did not sleep heavily, and a fire this size you would have been able to see from Farmerville, which was located on the other side of the trees. There were a few remains of animal bones, but there was no evidence that neither Vilingu nor his golem had perished in the fire. I had to find out if he was safe, either from my parents or someone in the village.
I was on my way to my parents' hut, in hopes that they might know what had happened to Vilingu Castle, when I heard a cry of pain. Immediately I stopped. Obviously someone was in distress. I rode in the direction of the screams.
An old beech tree was on fire. It had pulled its roots out of the ground and stomped around frantically while it struck at itself with its branches in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire. I tried to extinguish the fire with my cape, but had to abandon the idea in fear of being trampled to death.
Suddenly it hit me. The well! With great haste I rode back to the ruins of Vilingu Castle. I filled the bucket with water and rode back and forth between the tree and the well several times. I threw the bucket into the well once more. This time there was a hollow thud when the bucket hit the bottom. The well was filled with rubble and stone, so it was hard to get that much water in the bucket. Dark clouds hung heavy and threatening in the sky. It began to rain torrentially.
I threw the bucket's contents at the tree. A mixture of water and gravel hit the tree. The rain, however, had by now put out most of the fire, leaving only minor flames and embers. The tree no longer stomped around, but loudly complained in pain, while it smothered the last flames with its burnt branches. All the leaves had long since burned off. I wondered how the tree could have caught fire. It hadn’t thundered, and it was not because of a forest fire, because no other trees were caught on fire. It was only Vilingu Castle and the large beech tree that had been on fire.
My parents! Shivers ran down my spine. I suddenly had the worst of fears. I hurried on to their hut. It was also burned. The outer walls were still there, but the roof was gone. I rushed into the hut, but there were no signs of them. The floor was completely sooted, but there were no corpses. Nothing. Neither in the hut nor in my father's workshop. I got chills. In the workshop his hammer was on the anvil. All swords were gone. It was impossible to see tracks in the mud.
I could feel how the anger began to bubble inside me. The anger was however quickly replaced by feelings of feebleness. The uncertainty about the fate of my parents made me uneasy and unhappy. Were they dead? Or kidnapped? I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. Maybe the tree knew something.
I rode back to the large beech tree. It stood completely still. Small embers could be seen allover on the now blackened bark. It crackled and sizzled. The heavy rain had subsided, but it was still cloudy. I sank into the mud in front of the tree. Thoughts rushed through my mind. Thoughts of guilt. I could have saved it. But instead of focusing on the flames, I had ridden back to my parents' hut, to no purpose. There was no trace of them. And now the tree was burned to death. How could I now get certainty about my parents' fate? And Vilingus? I could no longer hold back my tears.
The tree suddenly opened its eyes and gave a loud gasp. I raised my head. How could this happen? It looked wonderingly around, but gave no longer expressed pain. Its eyes stopped at me. It tried to grab hold of me. Large pieces of its branches and twigs fell off in the attempt. It was unable to move properly.
"Help me!" it said, gasping for its breath.
"But.. But you, you were.." I stammered as I dried my eyes.
"Something in.. the water.." it gasped while its eyes roved around.
"I'm sorry that I wasn’t able to recue you" I deplored, sobbing. "But.."
"The elves.. Fetch the elves from Tyr Fasul.. they can help me.." The tree got silent. The eyes were once again empty.
The elves of Tyr Fasul? The forest of Tyr Fasul was more than a week's journey from here, in the Nation of Ancaria. In contrast to most wood elves, I had heard that they were a warlike people.
I thought back on the memories I had of the beech tree. Strangely enough, I had never found it odd that the tree could talk. I had grown up with it, unlike the Ents I had met in the woods of Athel Loren on my journey. It had to be related to the Ents. Funny how things you’ve always been accustomed to, may seem normal to some, while it will seem strange to others.
The old beech tree had always been there for as long as I could remember. I remembered how we played around the tree as kids and often teased old Mr. Beech. Later, when we were young, we had often gathered underneat the tree to hear stories and tales. We boys were especially fond of this, because as the stories became more and more exciting or frightening, the girls would move closer and closer to us. It was years since I had last talked to Mr. Beech, but he had been a big part of my childhood. I sniffled and wiped the last tears from my eyes.
I had not been raised to be a quiter. The same had the case in my time at Vilingu. The many nights I had been woken up, in order to train, train and train. Even during the long periods where Vilingu was away, I had been forced to practice and train on my own. Back then I didn’t think that I learned anything, but now I able to better understand his philosophy, that one is his own best teacher.
If the elves could help get old Mr. Beech to bloom again, it was worth the trip. I owed it to the old beech, but it was also my hope that he would be able to tell me what had happened to my parents and Vilingu.
A heavy smoke hung over most of the village. I drew my sword at the sight of a zombie wandering around the outskirt of Farmerville. I yelled at it to get its attention. But it just went restlessly around and didn’t seem to take notice of my presence. I raised my sword and got ready to kill it. I did not hesitate a second when it turned its face toward me. With a quick chop, I stabbed my sword straight into its chest. It fell to the ground with a bump.
The head was bloated, which made it to look like the eyes had been pressed in. The skin hung loose and a slimy reddish fluid seeped out of the corners of the mouth. The clothes and hair was filled with soil, as if it had just arisen from the grave. I held my left hand up to my nose, to cover the stench. Despite the incipient decay, there was something familiar about its facial features. I leaned further down to get a closer look.
Morrex? Morrex was that you? I said to myself and slowly lowered my sword. Morrex was a good friend of my dad. He had known me since when I was little. It was as if his empty eyes were staring at me while he lay there with his mouth open. He was dead, was he not? I held my sword ready, as I anxiously waited for the zombie to get up again. But not a sound came from him. Instead, he suddenly spat out a big lump of dirt. A beetle crawled out of the lump. With some difficulty he got up again and stood and stared confused at me.
"Mu-mu .. Mudgeon?" he stuttered and then looked down at his arms.
The following second he looked back at me with a puzzled look, as if he had just awakened from a trance. Again he looked astonished down at himself before his eyes once more stopped at me.
"I'm.. I'm dead..? You have killed me..!" he said in an accusatory tone and grabbed out at me.
I stepped back and dodged his grasp. My hand clutched the handle of my sword.
I shook my head. "Yes, Morrex, truly you are dead, but I did not killed you.." Before I could say more, I was interrupted.
"Tell me, didn’t you just put your sword right through my chest, huh?" he said, pointing at my sword which was smeared in a sticky brownish fluid.
I tried to excuse myself. "I’m truly sorry, Morrex. But you were already dead, besides.."
Again, I was interrupted. He sounded furious.
"Already dead?! That gives you no damn right to cut me down! Now, since yesterday, I’ve persistently tried to dig my way up through several feet of soil, and when I’ve finally come up, I get stabbed with a sword. Do you know how hard it is to dig yourself up with your bare hands? "
He held out his hands. His nails were cracked in several places and his hands brown with dirt. In several places I could see how he had torn holes in the skin.
I got quite a bad conscience towards Morrex. "I’m sorry about that, Morrex."
I still kept my other hand close to my nose when I'm wasn’t talking to him. To say the least, he didn’t smell very good.
Morrex hesitated and then shrugged his shoulders. It seemed that his tantrum was about to cool off.
"Well, it may well be that I just lost my temper before and overreacted a little. But I had just dug me out of the ground.. so.." He looked down into the ground and avoided my gaze. "And when I also don’t exactly recall dying, well.."
I was still slightly shocked after having been verbally abused by a zombie. "It’s ok. It's probably the fewest, who manage to perceive that they die.."
"Yeah, but when you suddenly wake up in a grave and then been digging all night, then its damn obvious that you get a little annoyed, when you find out that they haven’t even bothered to wait on you. Instead you get a sword in the chest."
I looked shamefacedly into the ground. "Yes, well I am truly sorry about that.."
"Now, you shouldn’t just stand there and apologize for all eternity. I had died before you came, just so you know it."
"Wait a minute, who was supposed to be waiting for you?" I asked. Morrex looked puzzled at me. Judging from his facial expressions, he didn't quite get what I was getting at. "You said that they didn’t even bother to wait. Who are they?"
"I really don’t know" Morrex replied and shook his head. "Well, I didn’t exactly voluntarily get up from my grave, you know.. Listen, the last thing I remember is that I was very sick. We were many in the village, which within a few weeks, slowly became more and more sick. No medication helped, so they suspected the plague. As far as I know there were several other towns in the area, which also got severely affected by disease."
"But the entire village is burnt down" I said and sincerely hoped that Morrex would know just a little about what had happened.
He just shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry Mudgeon. But I was already dead, remember. If the whole village has been struck by the plague, it may well be that they have ordered the village burned down in order to reduce the risk of spreading the disease."
"Do you know if my parents had been infected? Their house is also burned down. And Vilingu Castle."
"Your parents? Bolette and Tharj? Sorry Mudgeon, but unfortunately I don’t know. I'm sorry to hear about your parents' house, but I didn’t really get out much during my last time. I hope for you that you find them.. "
There was something wrong about this. "But.. If it’s the plague that causes the town to be burned down.. Then that doesn’t explain why you got up from your grave"
"Well, now we can’t all be sleeping our days away, as you youngsters.. Listen Mudgeon, now you must excuse me, but I have other things to worry about. "
I looked at him with amazement. "Like what?"
"Well, firstly I'm dead" he replied as if it was the dumbest question he had heard in a long time. He turned around and started walking towards the village.
After a few yards he turned towards me again. "Listen, were you not apprenticed as a wizard?"
"Yes" I answered without being able to see the connection between my question and his.
"Well, couldn’t you do something about my curse then? I frankly think that you owe me that" he said, pointing at his chest.
I stood behind as he disappeared into an old windmill, where a heavy black smoke rose. I looked up at the cemetery where Morrex had come from. Was that yet another figure?
The sight of many burnt houses affected me deeply. Everywhere the ground was stained red with blood. Bones and pieces of wood were scattered around most of the village. The body of a woman lay underneath a large beam, in front of a burned out house. The crows had already removed most of the flesh, exposing the bones in most places on her body. I moved the beam. Although I believed it was on the verge of desecration, I decided to see if there was anything of use on her.
The moment I grabbed her arm, she suddenly grab hold of my shoulder and pulled herself up.
I didn’t have time to draw my sword. But it turned out, fortunately enough, that it wasn’t necessary.
"Thank you" she said kindly and stretched her back so it gave a loud crack. "I've been laying there with that beam on my back since yesterday. Unable to move or keep up."
"Keep up?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"Our Lord has raised us and commanded us to obey him, but now they’ve all left without us. And without orders, well then we'll just have to wait here."
"Your Lord?" I was very confused. Everything was burned down. My parents and Vilingu were gone. The plague had ravaged the country and the dead walked again. I was losing my grip on reality. It was just about to become too much for me. My whole world was about to disappear beneat my feet.
The lady brushed herself and turned toward what might have been her house. "What a mess" she said at the sight of the bare wooden frame that was left. "But Hubert, however" she sighed. "Though, I have always said that you had no backbone, this is simply ridiculous."
I could hear complaint coming from a pile of bones lying a few meters from me. The lady picked up a skull and began to wipe it with her burned off clothes. The skull complained loudly.
"Myria, do help me. I can’t just lie here."
"Oh Hubert, you've never been good at keeping anything together, but if you cannot even hold yourself together.." The lady went around and gathered the bones and placed them on the ground. "But what have you done, Hubert?"
"Me?" the skull cried out offended. "Hell, I haven’t done anything"
"Well, then finally the truth came out, huh?" the woman chuckled. "Perhaps that was the problem. It's like I've always said.."
"What happened to you?" I interrupted.
The lady turned her eyes toward me, and gave a few disgruntled grunts for being interrupted, before she began to piece him together, bone by bone.
"My, then you did have a little backbone afterall, Hubert" murmured the lady, and put his head on it.
"Well, first off, it was not me who did it. Someone has stolen my damn bones, I tell you" he nodded vigorously as his head was finally put on the much spoken of backbone.
"Too bad you weren’t better to show it when you were alive" she said heavily and pressed his right arm in place, with such force that his hand swung up and gave him a slap. His head spun around a few times. "Well, guess it wasn’t properly screwed on" she giggled merrily. "On my word Hubert, you are missing both of your legs, not that you've ever been good at using them to something sensible, so I take it you won’t be missing them."
The man sent me a despairing glance. And soon found out that his left hand and a few ribs were also missing.
The lady pulled her husband along the ground and leaned him up against a tree. "Listen, young man, couldn’t you make yourself a little useful and go out and help me find Hubert's missing bones?"
The crows hovered in large flocks over the village. The corpses attracted them. A group of crows had gathered in front of what, until recently had been someone's home. I could see how they used their sharp beaks to tear off chunks of flesh. Whether it was human or animal, I really didn’t want to know. The uncertainty about what had happened to my parents and the reunion with Morrex, in his present condition, was more than I could cope with in such a short time. I had no need to either see or know if it was someone I had once known, the crows now so eagerly ate of. But unfortunately it wasn’t up to me to decide.
A shadow came rushing towards the crows, who got scared away by the yelling. I ducked in panic as the many crows took off around me. I looked up at the person who had scared the crows away. It was not a shadow I had seen. It was a ghost. It watched over the corpse the crows had been eating.
I immediately recognized her.
"Ezsebeth?"
It was almost unbearable. Ezsebeth was my childhood girlfriend's mother. And also a good acquantance of my mother.
"What happened here in Farmerville?" I asked.
She had stood stooping over the corpse, but now turned her gaze towards me.
"Mudgeon?" A small smile appeared on her lips when she recognized me. The smile however, was quickly replaced by a sorrowful expression.
"That’s my dead body, lying there" she said, pointing at the ground. "It all happened so fast. I remember we woke up because of the yelling and screaming. Before we could get up to see what had happened, several of the houses were already on fire. Seconds after Rurik had opened the door, I could see a sword, penetrating his body. I froze in fear at the sight of the skeleton that appeared in the door after Rurik’s body fell to the floor. In that moment I knew that I was gonna die. I was stabbed in the stomach and collapsed." Ezsebeth held a slight pause before she continued.
Without noticing it, I had lowered my gaze to her abdomen. The big dark spot on her stomach stood in strong contrast to her white nightgown and slightly transparent spiritual appearance.
"I couldn’t do anything. Meanwhile, I could hear how the bony feet continued their walk through the cabin. The sound of the rattling bones was drowned out by screams as the door to the children's room went up. The screams however, quickly silenced."
Tears began to roll down her translucent cheeks.
"I did not die immediately. Instead, I lay and slowly bled to death. Paralyzed by fear, I was unable to save my children."
A steady stream of tears had run down her cold bluish cheeks as she told of their terrible fate.
Slowly the tears stopped again. "I saw when he came in..." she continued. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain composure. "I saw when he came into the house and raised them."
"Raised them?" I asked surprised.
"Yes, Rurik and the children. He woke them to life and took them with him. I lay back and saw when his tall bony being cast a spell. A few minutes later, the children passed me, their bodies smeared in blood. They took no notice of me. I could hear when they left the village. The sound of the many corpses, that marched out of town. Since I died, I have wandered restlessly around and watched over my mortal remains."
Of course. How stupid of me. It was obvious that this was the work of a necromancer. Who but a necromancer would awaken the dead to life? I swore that I would lift the spell that bound her to this earth, and when the time came, bury her corpse. She didn’t deserve to have to wander restlessly around forever. At the same time I swore that I would do everything to find my parents. Regardless of their fate. Even if I would have to travel around the world.
The burned door squeaked when I opened it. I carefully stepped inside. Soot and ashes lay everywhere. The smoke lay heavy, so it was like walking in fog. I went further inside. I could see a figure lying in a bed. It was a man. I held my hand under his nose, but there was no breathing. He had probably died of smoke inhalation. I found two coins and placed them on his eyelids. I turned towards the door, when I heard the sound of a coin falling to the floor. I turned around to pick up the coin, when I saw the man sitting upright in his bed. He was rather disoriented.
"What time is it? I must have overslept." He looked around with a confused expression, before he swung his legs out of bed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
"Oh no, now my wife’s probably gonna get mad. I had promised to paint the fence before she got home. She has always said that I'm slow and never gets the job done, so to prove that she was wrong, I promised to paint the fence while she was gone. She is visiting her sister in Dursey and will come home tomorrow, Tuesday. "
I swallowed a lump. There was no easy way to put it, what I was about to tell him. I put a hand on his shoulder "I regret to inform you this, but today is Wednesday."
His eyes were full of despair. "But then I have slept for half a day" he exclaimed.
"I'm afraid that's not quite the case sir. Besides I think you might have bigger worries than your fence" I said and pointed out the sooty window.
The man got up and walked over to the window and wiped some of the soot off. He stood motionless for a while without saying anything. He just stared blankly out the window. "It's burned?" He turned to me. "The fence is burned. And the garden..."
"..and your cottage" I said and swallowed another lump.
He put both his hands to his head "But how could I have sleep through the fire?"
"I'm afraid you didn’t.."
"What do you mean?" he interrupted.
"I mean.." I said and hesitated. "I'm afraid you're dead. And then resurrected. The entire village is burned down. I don’t know if anyone has survived, but several have arisen from death. A curse has been cast upon this area, and I intend to find out what has happened."
"Before you go, won’t you please help me find eternal rest" the man pleaded.
"Yes, but how? I neither can nor wants to kill you."
He looked down at the floor and laid a hand on his forehead. It looked like he was trying to remember something. "My brother is a priest. He always talks about how Holy Water and Exorcism is good for banishing evil."
After what I had experienced with Morrex, I wasn’t sure holy water and exorcisms would be enough. I remembered Vilingus words when I was first introduced to the realm of magic and the different types of magic that exist. I was certain he had mentioned something about a spell that could prevent the dead from being reanimated. Wasn’t it the elves who mastered this spell?
I could see a figure walking around at the cemetery, so I rode closer. Perhaps the person could be helpful. I stood just outside the cemetery fence when I saw a young man suddenly being pushed, landing on a grave. A man stood over him and took a sip from his bottle. I could hear them quite clearly.
"Come, boys! Look what I found!" shouted the man with the bottle. Three men in black suits came to him. Their dress was similar.
"What are you doing with that shovel?" Digging up a pair of stiffs?"Asked one, whose long black hair made it easy to recognize him from the others.
"Void, he is clearly one of those who f*cks corpses"said another. "A real necrofilister.
He was the most muscular of the four. He was not so tall but reasonably wide, like a small square block.
The man with the bottle turned to his friend. "Necrophiliac, you meathead!"
"He probably wears women's underwear" said the longhaired one.
Laughter spread among the four men. The young man was pulled up by the collar.
"You bloody sicko" said the man with the bottle that had knocked him over, as given him a fist in his stomach. "Yeah, mental"
All four of them kicked him as he lay down.
"Get his wallet" said the first man and walked toward the grave, the young man had stood before.
"That’s my mother you’re pissing on" the young man said when the three men had finally stopped their kicking.
He looked down at the young man, but simply laughed and squirted on her tombstone. Suddenly a hand rose from the grave and grabbed his crotch, pulling him down. I had moved closer, just in time to see a head come out of the soil.
"It's a zombie!" screamed the man while he was dragged down even further, so he now laid face to face with the buried mother.
"It wasn't my intention to piss on the dead" he sobbed before the mother ripped his belly open.
The three others tried to flee, but one of the three stumbled and fell. It was the small broad one. The mother caught up with him and he screamed as she bit him in the throat. The young man tried to help him, but his mother flung him away.
The priest had been awakened, and was now standing at the cemetery. "What in god's name is going on here?"
The two men who had been bitten, had already turned into zombies and now approached the young man who was trapped against a wall. He pulled out a syringe.
"The devil is among us" said the priest, while he looked down to the three zombies. "Stay back boy" he said to me and pushed me behind him. "This calls for Divine Intervention."
The priest jumped down in front of the young man while he roared at the top of his lungs. Smack, the first zombie got a foot in his head. He pushed the mother to her son, who quickly gave her an injection. The two zombies ran towards the priest, who stood with his back against them. But each of them ran into in a clenched fist and fell backwards.
"I kick arse for the Lord" the priest said with a fiery look as he turned towards the two zombies.
With roundhouse kicks he beat the crap out of both of them . He grabbed the arm of the little wide and twisted him around. There was a crack when his arm went off. The blood spurted out. He grabbed the other arm and repeatedly kicked the zombie in his head before he turned around and kicked the other zombie away. Then he tore off the other arm. His attention was directed at the zombie, who had pissed on the grave. The zombie took multiple hits and fell to the ground. The priest quickly spun around and with a strong kick against the legs of the armless zombies, both legs were kicked off. The zombie barely managed to roar in frustration, before his head got kicked and flew several feet up into the air.
Back to the zombie who had just risen. A quick kick behind the knees, after which the priest grabbed the zombie and tossed him into a tombstone, which broke at the collision.
For a brief moment, the priest enjoyed his victory, as the head of the first zombie landed on his shoulder and bit hard. The priest screamed, grabbed the head and threw it away. He felt his neck and looked at his bloody hand, before going into berserker mode. Screaming, he ran toward the zombie, who went around rather confused after the encounter with the tombstone. The priest leaped against the zombie, with his legs pointing directly at his chest. But instead of hitting the zombie, he was pushed away while he was gliding through the air. "Uargh" exclaimed the priest. The next sound that followed was the sound of breaking bones and cloth being torn apart. The priest had landed on the hand of a statue. He made his last convulsions, as he looked at the stone hand sticking out through his stomach. Slowly the zombie walked toward the statue and the priest. But the young man came from behind and gave him an injection. The zombie fell to the ground with a bump. Somewhat shocked by the events, and by the speed of which the previous scenario had unfolded, I walked toward the young man.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I stood behind him.
He turned quickly. The last thing I recall was the surprise in his face when he looked at me. He had stuck me with his syringe. That's all I remember.
I heard several branches and twigs break over between the trees. I tightened my bow and slowly walked to the edge of the woods.
A young boy in fine but dirty clothes, came out from between the trees. "Do not shoot!" he shouted repeatedly, almost panicky as he slowly walked forward, completely crumpled.
I immediately lowered my bow and hurried over to him. "Are you okay?" I asked gently.
The boy nodded without saying a word. His hair and clothes were full of small twigs and pine needles. He must have slept between the trees. His stomach rumbled loudly.
"Are you hungry?" I asked kindly.
"Yes. Well very much actually." His face lit up. "Have you got any food? I'm getting sick of eating berries" he said.
"Actually, you can eat the leaves from the trees here" I replied like some other wise guy.
"Sure, as if" he replied and rolled her eyes. "So you got anything I can eat or what?"
I nodded. I noticed how quickly his appearance had changed, from young and scared, to greedy and hungry.
"How old are you?" I asked and took some bread out of my saddle bag.
"Sixteen" he replied. "My name is Thorgny by the way" he said, as he greedily bit into the bread.
I took my horse down to the lake, so it could drink. "Do you know what happened here?" I asked while I filled my water bottle.
He nodded and chewed merrily and loud. "It was the dead who did that" he said, pointing toward the village. "I heard screams and saw how the fire rose up above the trees..."
It didn’t seem like it affected him the least. "Why were you out here when it happened, why weren’t you at home with your family?" I asked.
He swallowed the bread and looked peevishly into the air before he looked at me and replied. "That I just wasn't, ok?"
It didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, for he hastened to ask if I had any more bread. But for me it was important for me to get as much information as possible about what exactly had happened. The more I knew about the necromancer who had to be behind this, the greater chance I would have finding my parents. I kept asking about what had happened. Asked him to tell right from the start, what had happened since he didn’t want to be with his family. Whether he had noticed anything suspicious before the undead attack the village and how they had arrived. After prolonged questioning and insistence, I finally managed to learn a little more about him and the incident which had occurred in Farmerville.
Thorgnys parents thought it was about time he got out and earned a living. They believed that working on a farm would do him good. His interpretation of it was that they wanted to be rid of him. That he was just in the way between them and their new offspring. That could very well be the reason why he didn’t seem particular upset with the fact that his parents were now dead.
The same evening as they arrived at the farm, he ran away. He hid among the trees here at Footlake where he fell asleep. That same night he was woken by the sound of horses neighing. The bright summer nights enabled him to see from afar, two riders stopping just outside the village. He had explained how the sound of marching troops followed shortly after.
An army of undead, stopped on the other side of the lake and waited for their signal. Their many torches shone brightly. Then the sound of screams and houses burning followed. His comment that it had felt like an eternity and that it had kept him from falling asleep, had offended me. But I don’t think he meant it the way it sounded. It must have been something of a shock for him to witness, so maybe it was the easiest way to handle it, by putting a little distance to what had happened to his parents and the villagers.
He had noticed that the people from the village had become a part of the undead army. And that one of the two horsemen might have been their leader. He carried a scepter and a crown. Additionally, there were only two more who rode on horseback. The rest were walking troops. As they rode away from the village, it seemed as if one of the riders had something lying across his horse. It could very well have been a person, he believed. But most importantly, I now knew that they had come from the east and had left the village again in the same direction. I had to take Thorgny with me to the nearest town.
It was evening. We had camped for the night, when I thought I heard something. I asked Thorgny to be quiet.
"Schhh!" I shushed him and turned my head. I got up. I could see something that could be torches from a distance. Quickly I saddled up and turned to Thorgny, who still sat by the fire. "Wait here. I'll have to investigate where those sounds comes from" I said and rode away. Thorgny nodded as if he didn’t care and put his teeth into the pheasant I had shot earlier in the day.
It was torches I had seen. The summer nights were beginning to get shorter, so that many torches lit up the area. It was.. It was.. skeletons and zombies who carried the torches. As a precaution, I kept a good distance between us. But I could faintly sense a horseman, leading the way up front. Maybe my parents were among them. Although I couldn’t immediately see anyone who was tied up, there still might be prisoners. I fervently hoped that they were up front. The man on the horse stopped. He raised a sword or a wand, and shortly after a portal opened in front of him. My heart skipped a beat or two. I started galloping my horse. A ghost turned towards me for a brief moment before it disappeared along with the portal. They were gone.
"Hey! Stop! We need help!" a young woman cried, waving her arm. With the other arm she held her friend, who clearly needed the support.
"Hope they won’t rob us" Thorgny muttered skeptically before we dismounted and went to meet them.
The thought had never crossed my mind. Instinctively, I just concluded that these women were in need, but Thorgny might as well turn out to be right. Perhaps they were robbers. One had heard similar stories before.
"I could use some help here" said one of the women, alluding to her friend, she dragged on.
Thorgnys remark had made me suspicious, so I hesitated to help her at first.
Shortly after her friend started to cough. A heavy cough that certainly didn’t sound healthy. It was also clear to see that it hurt every time she coughed.
"It’s not contagious is it?" Thorgny asked and took a couple steps backwards.
I was no longer in doubt that they really needed our help, so I grabbed the other side of her friend and together we sat her on a stone. She still coughed violently, so her friend handed her a water bottle.
"My name is Mudgeon. And my friend’s called Thorgny."
The woman introduced herself. "Agraynel and my friend’s name is Damala."
"I must apologize for our hesitation, but you hear so many stories about people being robbed" I kept on.
Agraynel nodded understandingly. "No need to apologize, but you must understand that it is very important that my friend gets help. She is seriously ill."
"What’s wrong with her?" I asked.
Agraynel threw out her arms. "I'm not sure. The symptoms are many, but alternating. I’ve begun to fear that she has been poisoned, but cannot find the cause. We’ve both eaten and drunk the same things. And she certainly hasn’t been in contact with any poisonous plants."
"Tell me.. Are you elves?" Thorgny asked thoughtfully.
Agraynel nodded. The special features were hard to miss, though I hadn’t noticed them. I had been too captivated by Agraynels beautiful looks, to notice the pointy ears. She was somewhat older than me, had beautiful blond hair and a face that was indeed very pleasant to look at.
"But elves don’t live in this region. So what are you doing down here?" Thorgny asked in a slightly suspicious tone.
"We come from the Tyr-Fasul forest in the north. Our people have in recent times, there have been attempts by the swamp elves to poison our people. That is why we’ve travelled to this region, to gather leaves from the Unduko and Gazai plants, which acts as an antidote. They only exist in the area around here. We left our horses at a creek not far from here, but something must have scared them because they were gone when we returned.."
Damala interrupted. "Agraynel I’ve already told you, I'm sure that I saw a gho.." Damala had to stop her sentence to cough. A violent cough that continued for long.
Agraynel spoke once Damala had stopped coughing. "Yes, Damala believes that she saw a ghost near the creek. Meaning that a ghost must have frightened our horses away. But I have tried to explain to her that ghosts don’t move about in this region" Agraynel murmured.
"It's not unthinkable that it was a ghost she saw" I replied. "For it is no more than two days ago that Thorgny saw .."
Agraynel interrupted me. "Really it doesn’t matter. We need to get Damala to a doctor. Is there a village nearby?"
I shook my head.
"But we have seen smoke, from the other side of the hills. Are you certain that there isn’t a village or larger town?" Agraynel asked insistently.
"The smoke you've seen comes from my village, which is burned down. All towns within miles south have suffered the same fate. Nothing lies in that direction" I replied, pointing in the direction of where we came from.
Agraynel sighed and looked down at the ground.
"Did you say that you came from the Tyr-Fasul forest?" I asked as I just remembered the Ents last remark. Agraynel nodded. "Can you revive a burnt out Ent?"
Agraynel looked at me with wonderment "A burnt out Ent? Hmm.. Well, that would probably be possible" she stated.
"Then there is something to pursue in that direction. Then there is hope that I may learn what happened to my parents" I exclaimed enthusiastically and looked at Agraynel, who just looked back at me in astonishment. I hurried over to my horse and got ready to ride back to Farmerville. "What are we waiting for?" I asked and turned around. My joyous outburst was replaced by a terrible inner pain. Agraynel stood with her spear pointed at my throat.
"I am sorry Mudgeon. I wish I could have offered you our help, but I have to get Damala back to our village. Locate us in the Tyr-Fasul forest to the north, then you will get your horse back, and then may I offer you my help."
I didn’t say a word. I just stood back along with Thorgny and watched as the two elves rode away on my horse. I could feel how my eyes began to get wet without actually coming tears. The possibility of certainty about my parents' fate had been within reach for a short moment. And now it rode away.
A young man in his 30s, wearing a white shirt and brown vest, opened the door.
"You?" I exclaimed in surprise at the sight of him. It was the man from the cemetery. Who had sedated me.
"Come on in. My name is Lionel. Will you excuse me, I was just cooking."
"Where's the sh*tter?" young Thorgny hurried to ask.
"Second door on your right" Lionel answered.
I waited in the entrance hall. Suddenly I heard a scream and the sound of a door being slammed hard. Thorgny ran screaming toward me. The door to the second room on the left opened slowly. Thorgny had been mistaken of right and left.
A zombie appeared. Resolutely I drew my sword and got ready for battle.
"Wait! Don't harm it!" Lionel cried, as he came running.
"But it's a zombie!" I replied surprised.
A complaining roar came from the zombie, as it lashed out with one arm.
"Now I prefer to call them living-impaired" Lionel replied determined.
The zombie sent us a patronizing glance, and a satisfying roar before Lionel lead the zombie back to the room it came from. We followed.
It must have been the dining room. Already three other zombies were sitting there. Lionel helped the fourth in place before he began to serve. He had a tray with four bowls of porridge and a big bottle. He poured a little of the bottles content in each of the four portions, before serving them.
"Here you go mom" he said and placed a bowl in front of a female zombie. I recognized her from the cemetery.
Each person got a bowl and spoon. Lionel looked despairingly and sighed deeply before he went over to a man at his own age.
"Void, how often must I say it... use the spoon." He placed the spoon in the zombie's right hand. Void.. He had also been at the cemetery that night. The bully who had been bitten by Lionel's mother. The priest was there as well, on the other side of the table, next to a young lady with a nurse hat, whose throat had been slit. She sat merrily stuffing porridge into her mouth. A few seconds later, it ran out through her throat.
"Oh" Lionel exclaimed at the sight of this and hurried on to the other side of the table.
Meanwhile Void sat with his mouth open wide, staring intently at his spoon of porridge. "Raaub" it came from him as he opened as wide as he could and in one quick move led the spoon into his mouth. "Splat" it sounded when it passed through the back of his rotten head. One and a half inches of spoon was sticking out of his mouth while he sat sad and pitied himself. Thorgny giggled loudly as he tried to control himself.
I stood and wondered. They didn't seem hostile. Usually the undead was controlled by a necromancer, but the ones I had encountered in Farmerville had just wandered around restlessly. Lionel's mother was an exception though. She had attacked the bullies in the cemetery.
Lionel took the spoon from the young lady, pulled her head backwards and began to pour porridge straight down her throat. Meanwhile you could both see and hear how she happily munched away with her head hanging down the back.
The mother grabbed the porridge on the spoon sticking out through the back of Voids head and stuffed it in her mouth. Void started banging at the table with both hands as he tried to make a sound. He was clearly frustrated. Lionel looked at Void and sighed. On his way to the other side of the table, he looked back at the young nurse. He went back to her and lifted her head in place before he pulled the spoon out of Void's head.
The priest, who sat beside the young nurse, had been sitting and leading his right hand up her thighs for a few minutes. Now they both sat and sent each other lustful glances. The priest merrily licked his lips before he leaned forward and began kissing her.
"Stop that!" Lionel said firmly as he tried to separate them.
It knocked at the door. This sent a shiver through Lionel. He shushed them and headed toward the door. "Will you keep an eye on them?" he said adressing us.
We could hear chatter. I couldn't hear exactly what they talked about, but it sounded like he called him uncle. Lionel came back shortly after.
"You owe me some answers" I said. "How did they end up like this?"
"This house belongs.. belonged to my mother. Nearly a month before our meeting at the cemetery, she became ill. She used to fetch water from the source outside Farmerville. She just got more and more ill, so I sent for a doctor. But he could not find the cause of her illness. A nurse from Faeries Crossing took care of her during her last time" he explained, and glanced at the young lady.
Thorgny interrupted "But what does that have to do with the water?"
"I'll get to that" Lionel replied. "I don't know if you've heard it, but several cities in Ancaria were struck by a sudden but violent illness. The southern part of Ancaria, Vail's Gate and Dursey were severely affected. Farmerville, was to my knowledge, the northernmost town that was struck. It was believed to be the black plague, as it spread quickly and among large portion of the inhabitants" Lionel said and gathered the empty plates.
The four zombies were all asleep. I looked at the big bottle, which content he had poured into their food. I looked with astonishment at Lionel.
"Sleeping medicine" he replied. "Could you help clean off?"
That would explain a lot, I thought. But it seemed like he knew more than he told. In a certain tone I told Lionel "My parents lived near Farmerville. Their hut is burnt to the ground like the rest of Farmerville. There are no traces of them, so if you know something.."
He sat the plates down hard. "My mother is dead, okay! A zombie if you will. I don't know who or what is behind this, but for me it's obvious that it isn't the plague. While the nurse looked after my mother, she got sick aswell.."
"But if it's the water, why haven't you become sick?" I asked.
"Because I come from Faeries Crossing, to the west. I brought water myself. Besides, I mostly drank beer and wine, while I looked after my mother" Lionel replied. "The only way I could stand being with her" he murmured. "Listen, I work at a waterwheel and I've tasted the water down here, and it tastes different. Moreover, you get your water from wells" Lionel said and went into the pantry.
If the water had been poisoned, cities would only be able to provide low resistance in case of battle. It seemed obvious that poisoning could be the explanation. It went well in line with what I had learned in Farmerville. Namely, that a necromancer was behind this. My thoughts were interrupted by Lionel.
"Now that I've told you what you wanted to know, I might ask you to do me a favor? Soon I'm out of porridge grain and I cannot leave them alone, even just to go to town, so if you could get a couple of sacks with porridge grain for me at the miller. I'll pay you for it."
We were quite busy already, but on the other hand, I didn't want to cause the four zombies to be wandering around freely.
I knocked on the door. It opened by itself. Slowly I pushed the door completely open. The floor of the hall was covered in blood. Body parts and entrails were scattered across the floor. It smelled horrible. Thorgny rushed out the door. I could hear him puke outside. I walked down the hall with my sword drawn. I could hear knocking at the end of the corridor as well as yelling and screaming. I went down, grabbed hold of the handle, but hesitated for a moment. The knocking had stopped.
"Lionel?" I asked with my head against the door. Suddenly I heard a scream from one of the rooms on my right. I felt a shiver through my body. A screaming woman came running into the hall, followed by a raging zombie.
"No. Don't open that door!" someone suddenly yelled from the first floor.
I looked up. It was Lionel. I turned toward the door. By accident, I must have pulled the handle when the woman had screamed. 'Coz seconds later, I got knocked off my feet by a bunch of zombies, who stormed out of the door, that led down to a cellar. Lionel rushed down the stairs with a scythe in his hands. He also had a hedge shear fastened on his back.
When I got back on my feet, the entire house was filled with zombies and screaming people who desperately tried to escape the zombies.
We had barely killed the last zombie, before the floor started cracking near the basement stairs. A huge, hairy monster with long claws had risen up from the hole in the floor. Lionel's mother.
"What happened here?" I asked when it was all over.
"I realized that I had to kill them (the zombies ed.), so I injected them with poison and buried them in the basement. Later, my uncle came by, with a lot of guests, to hold a celebration here. My uncle had been interested in the house ever since my mother died, and believed that it rightfully should be his. During the party I got into a quarrel with him and he threw me down into the basement. There I found out that it wasn't poison I had given them, but animal stimulant. They rose up from the grave again and began to eat the guests" Lionel explaned, completely covered in blood.
None of the guests had survived. Lionel and I were the only ones left. Thorgny had, sensibly enough, stayed outside.
"By the way, I no longer need the porridge grain" Lionel hastened to add as we stood outside the house and he could see the bags hanging on the horses.
"No, off course not" I sighed, slightly annoyed.
"I apologize for your trouble" said Lionel. "Here, take this talisman as thanks. It will strengthen you."
It was nearly twilight when we went into the woods. A light mist spread in the dark, dark forest. We could sense shadows moving in the trees around us. The sound of branches and twigs breaking resounded in the quiet forest. Thorgny had a firm grip on my cloak, so he wouldn’t get lost in the fog. I felt my heart pounding faster and faster as we sped up.
Suddenly a knight almost twelve feet tall, in hairy armour and with twigs at the top of his helmet as antlers, stood before us. "Ni!" he exclaimed. He had a group of men standing behind him, all followed by saying "Ní" interchangeably.
They wore brown suits with fur collars and helmets that looked like something orcs and trolls would wear; elongated metal helmets with round tops that covered the entire head. On top of the helmets were big horns or branches. There was only a small slit to look out of.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"We are the knights who say.. Ni" replied the tall knight.
"No. Not the knights who say Ni" I cried and cringed.
"The same!" the knight replied proudly.
Thorgny looked at me and asked in amazement "Who are they?"
"We are guardians of the sacred words, Ní, Peng and Neee Wom" the knight replied with a shrill voice.
I leaned against Thorgny as I whispered "Those words are letal. Those who hear them, seldom live to tell the tale."
"The knights, who say Ni, demands a sacrifice" said the leader determinded.
I bowed reverently. "Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the elves who live deep in these woods."
"Ni! Ní! Ní! Ní!" the knight’s men exclaimed polyphonically.
The tall knight held up a hand to his men to signal for silence. "We shall say ''Ní'' again to you if you do not aplease us."
I straightened myself up. "What is it you want?"
"We want ..." He looked to both sides a few times with his arms crossed, before he finally replied "..a shrubbery."
"A what?" Thorgny exclaimed.
"Ni! Ní!" the knight and his men cried out.
"Please, please no more!" I begged. "We will find you a shrubbery".
The knights ceased their debilitating shouting and gave word to their formidable leader. "You must return here with a shrubbery, or else you will never pass through this wood.. alive" he said with his high pitched voice.
"Oh knights of Ni, you are just and fair " I replied and bowed once again. "And we will return with a shrubbery."
"One that looks nice" the knight interrupted.
"Of course" I nodded.
"And not too expensive" he said profoundly.
I nodded again.
"Now.. Go!" he shouted and pointed in the direction we had come from.
We rode back to a small village, located not far from the forest.
Thorgny went over to an elderly lady who stood in old rags.
"Old crow, is there anywhere in this town where we could buy a shrubbery?"
"Who sent you?" she asked, frightened.
"The knights who say Ni" I replied.
"Rrargh" exclaimed the woman.
"No. Never, we have no shrubberies here" she said with a frightened look.
I raised my voice. "If you do not tell us where we can buy a shrubbery, my friend and I.. will say.. we will say Ní" I said, trying to appear intimidating. It was the best I could think of in the situation.
"Oh" the woman moaned and shank a little. "Do your worst!"
"Very well! If you will not assist us voluntarily..."
I looked around in despair before I cried out "Ni!"
"No. Never" the woman moaned and turned away her face. "No shrub."
"Ni!" I continued.
Thorgny tried to help putting pressure on the woman. "Noo!"
"No, no, no. No it’s not that. It's Ní" I corrected.
"Noo" he exclaimed again.
"No, no. Ní!"
He tried again. "Noo?"
I shook my head. "No, you do not do it properly."
"Ní" he finally erupted.
"That’s it. You got it" I exclaimed enthusiastically.
We both turned toward the woman. "Ní! Ní!" It wasn't long before the old woman completely crumpled.
"Are you saying Ní to that old woman?" asked a man who was pulling a cart.
"Uhm, yes" I replied, slightly embarrassed by my behavior.
Thorgny nodded determined, as if it was every man's right to say Ní to strangers. And in particular, elderly women.
The man turned his face away in disgust of our behavior. "Oh, what sad times are these, when passing ruffians can say Ní at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land. Nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies, are under considerable economic stress in this period."
"Did you say shrubbery?" I asked, delighted.
"Yes. Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design and sell shrubberies" he said with a smile.
"Ni!" Thorgny exclaimed, giving the man a stare.
"No, no!" I cried out as I grasped for Thorgny. "What luck. We look to buy a shrubbery" I said smiling.
"Very well" Roger replied. "But unfortunately, as you can see, my cart is broken." Roger pointed to one of the wheels. It was broken. "Without a new wheel, I'm not going far. And the nearest carpenter is reportedly in Faeries Crossing, several days journey from here. If you could get me a new wheel and bring it to me, I shall arrange a shrubbery for you. Free of charge" Roger offered.
An old woman pulled a cart behind her.
"Old woman!" I said as we approached the woman.
She turned around. "Man!"
"Man?! Oh, sorry. What is the name of that town over there?" I asked as we walked beside the man.
"I'm thirty seven" he said and went ahead with his cart.
"What?"
"I'm thirty seven. I'm not old" he replied, offended.
"Well, I can’t just call you ’man’."
He continued pulling his cart without looking at us. "You could say ‘Dennik’"
"I didn’t know you were called Dennik" I replied.
The man stopped and looked up at me. "You didn’t bother to find out, did you?"
"I did say sorry about the old woman, but from behind you looked.."
"What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior" he said.
"Inferior? But I'm just a mage.."
"Oh mage, eh? Very nice. And how’d you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers!" he said and put the cart down. "By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society! If there’s ever going to be any progress.."
He was interrupted by an elderly woman. "Dennik! There’s some lovely filth down here." She looked at me and Thorgny. "Oh. How do you do?"
"How do you do, good lady" I replied politely. "I am Mudgeon, son of Tharj. Trained by the wizard, Vilingu. And this is my companion, Thorgny. I hope to one day serve Queen Emilia Nighthaven. But right now we are heading for Faeries Crossing. Perhaps you could inform us about the name of that town?"
"Queen of who?" she asked and looked puzzled at me.
"The Arcans" I replied.
The lady paused with her mud. "Who are they?"
"We all are. We’re Arcans. And Emilia's our Queen" I replied.
"I didn’t know we had a queen. I thought we were an autonomous collective" she said and began to slap the mud together in a pile.
"You’re fooling yourself" Dennik said to the woman and threw a big blob of mud in the pile. "We’re living in a dictatorship. A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes.."
"Oh, there you go" the women interrupted. "..bringing class into it again."
"That’s what it’s all about" Dennik nodded. "If only people would.."
My patience wasn’t for long discussions on governance. "Please, please good people. We’re in a hurry. What town is that?"
Dennik looked up at me briefly, before he continued collecting mud. "As I was saying, we’re an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week.."
"Yes" I nodded.
"..but all the decisions of that officer, have to be ratified at a special biweekly meeting.."
"I understand" I replied. I neither had the time nor the patience to be in an unnecessary discussion about something that was not relevant to us.
Dennik kept on "..by a simple majority in case of purely internal affairs.."
"Be quiet!" I exclaimed.
"but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more..
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet. "It just burst out of me. But my patience was really put to a test.
The woman stopped collecting mud and straightened up "Order, eh? Who does he think he is?"
"He’s your king!" Thorgny interjected.
I looked at him in amazement. I wondered where he got the idea of the king from? Although it was a highly criminal offense to pretend to be royal, I chose however to play along with the idea, hoping that it would silence them. One bow for the royal.
"Well, I didn’t vote for you" Dennik said snorting.
"You don’t vote for kings" Thorgny replied in a dry tone.
"Well, how did you become king, then?" asked the woman and continued to gather mud.
"The lady of the lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bossom of the water, signifying by divine providence that he Arthur.. uhm, Mudgeon.. was to carry Excalibur. That is why he is your king! "Thorgny stated. I was amazed by his answer. I wondered where he’d gotten it from.
Dennik stepped forward. "Listen, strange women lying in ponds, distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."
"Be quiet! "I ordered.
"Well, you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power, just because some watery tart threw a sword at you!" Dennik replied resentful.
"Shut up!"
He continued in a ridiculing tone. "I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor, just because some moistened bink had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away!"
I went over, grabbed Dennik and pulled him up. "Will you shut up?"
"Ah, now will you see the violence inherent in the system."
"Shut up!" I ordered as I shook him lightly.
"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, I am being repressed!" cried Dennik.
"Bloody peasant!" Thorgny said.
"Oh what a give away. Did you hear that, eh?"
A few peasant had started walking towards us.
"That’s what I’m on about. Did you see him repressing me, you saw it didn't you?"
"Halt! Who goes there?" a guard shouted from the top of the gate.
"It is I, Mudgeon, son of Tharj from the village of Farmerville" I replied.
I could see the soldier waved his hand. "Nonsense."
"It's true. And this is my trusty servant Thorgny" I replied, pointing over at Thorgny who stood scuffing the ground with one foot. "We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of a carpenter. I hear that you have one here in Faeries Crossing."
"What? ridden on a horse?" the guard asked.
"Yes" I replied.
The guard shook his head. "You’re using coconuts!"
"What?"
The guard pointed down at us. "You have two empty halves of coconut and you’re bangang them together."
"Well yes, but that's because our horse has been stolen by two elves. But only because one of them was very sick, you see. Well, we've been walking since then.."
Thorgny interrupted me. "So what? We have walked since the snows of winter covered this land."
"..through the kingdom of Ancaria" I interjected.
"Where did you get the coconuts?" the guard asked.
"We found them" Thorgny replied.
"Found them? In Ancaria?" The guard shook his head. "The coconut’s tropical."
"What do you mean?" I asked wonderingly.
"Well, this is a temperate region" the guard replied.
"The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plumber may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land" I replied.
The guard stood without saying anything. "Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not at all. They can be carried."
The guard leaned over the edge. "What? A swallow carrying a coconut?"
"It could grip it by the husk" Thorgny interjected. I nodded.
"It’s not a question of where he grips it. It's a simple question of weight ratios. A five ounce bird, could not carry a one pound coconut " the guard noted scornfully, crossing his arms.
"An ant can carry three times its own weight. And a snail can carry its own house" Thorgny replied with a supercilious glance.
"Well, it doesn't matter" I sighed deeply.
"Listen, in order to maintain air speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings 43 times every second, right?" he continued.
"Aw, come on!" I begged.
"Am I right?" the guard asked.
"I don’t care!" I shouted.
"It could be carried by an Aldamarian swallow" another guard, who had just appeared, said.
"Oh yeah!" said the first guard. "An Aldamarian swallow, maybe. But not an Ancarian swallow. That's my point."
"I agree wi
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the second guard continued.
"What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers?" his colleague asked surprised.
"Well, why not?" the newly arrived guard asked.
"Can’t you just open the gate and then you can continue your discussion afterwards?" I cried imploringly to guards.
The last arriving guard looked at his colleague before he turned his gaze toward us. "What is your errand?"
"I've already told you. We wish to acquire a wheel at your carpenter" I replied in an exasperated tone.
"Do you have an access card?" the guard asked, nodding oddly to his colleague, as if they were to be extra aware of us.
"Uh.. An access card?" I asked in surprise, scratching my hair. "How do we get such a card?"
"At the citizen office inside Faeries Crossing" the guard replied, as if it was the stupidest question in the world.
"But how are we to get an access card, when the only way we acquire one, is by visiting the citizen office, which we can not get to, as we just do not have an access card to Faeries Crossing? " I asked resignedly.
"You can also gain access if you have a salesperson license" the first guard interjected, while the other nodded.
"Do you?" the second guard asked.
I gently shook my head.
"Then unfortunately, we can not let you in" the guard deplored.
"Just imagine, I had come to the same conclusion" I said to Thorgny in a low voice.
I could sense the rage roaring inside Thorgny. "That’s the dumbest foolish butt rotten rules you’ve got. Couldn’t you be a just a little large and ignore your rules just once?"
"Sorry kid, we don’t make the rules. We are merely an association of volunteer soldiers who serve the city the best we can.."
"Forget it Thorgny. We must try again later or find another way to get inside."
We sat in a nearby ditch. I looked at Thorgny. He sat with his head to one side, looking skyward. It was obvious to me that he had something in mind.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"I’m thinking of a story I once read. About King Arthur and his quest for the Holy Grail" Thorgny replied.
"Why did you think of that?" I asked wonderingly.
"Well, because in his quest for the Holy Grail, he entered all sorts of places. I thought that if we claimed to be holy knights in search of the Grail, it might be they would let us into the city " Thorgny suggested.
"Not a bad idea. It's actually not a bad idea" I smiled. "We’ll wait for the next guard shift" I concluded.
Some hours later, we finally heard the signal we had been waiting for. "Guard shift!" was shouted from the top wall. We arose from the ditch and went towards the city walls.
"Hello Hello?" I shouted.
"Hello. Who is zis?" asked the guard.
It is King Arthur and this is Thorgny, knight of the Round Table.
"What do you wanz?" asked the guard.
"God has entrusted us with a sacred quest. If you will give us food and shelter for the night, you can join our quest for the Holy Grail" said Thorgny.
"I'll ask, but I don’t think that we’ll be very keen. Uh, we already got one, you see" the guard replied.
"What?" Thorgny exclaimed.
Thorgny looked at me with wonder in his eyes. "He says they’ve already got one. What do we do now?" he asked.
"Are you sure?" I shouted back to the guard.
"Oh, yes. And it’s very nice-a" he replied.
The guard turned to his colleagues, who were hidden behind the wall and whispered "I told ‘im we already got one."
You could hear how they made an unsuccessful attempt to keep their laughter back.
"Well uhm, can we come up and have a look?" I asked.
"That’s out of the question! You are Ancarian types-a!."
"Well, what are you then?" Thorgny asked offended.
"I’m from Mercia. Why do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly man?"
"What are you doing in Ancaria?" Thorgny asked.
"Mind your own business!" the guard shouted.
"If you will not show us the grail, we’ll storm the city" Thorgny threatened.
The guard slapped his hands on his helmet and stuck his tongue out at us. "You don’t frighten us, Ancarian pig dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called Arthur-king. You and your silly ancarian knnnigget. Thpppt!"
I looked at Thorgny. "What a strange person." Thorgny just shook his head.
I turned my eyes to the guard once again. "Now look here, my good man..."
"I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smellt of elderberries!"
"Is there someone else up there, we could talk to?" I asked.
"No" the guard replied. "Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time-a."
Now I was annoyed by his insolent behavior. "Now, this is your last chance. I've been more than reasonable.."
"'Fetche lavache!" said the soldier.
"Quoi?" it came from behind the wall.
"'Fetche lavache!" he repeated with his eyes turned towards his colleagues.
"If you do not agree to my commands, then I shall.." I became speechless when a cow flew through the air. They had shot it off with a catapult. "Holy heartfailure!" I exclaimed.
"Charge!" Thorgny yelled and rushed headlong toward the wall with raised stick.
Ducks, chickens, pheasants and various cabbages were thrown down at us. Even a stuffed fox.
"Run away! Run away!" I shouted.
"Fiends! I’ll tear them apart!" Thorgny muttered as we once again sat in the ditch.
I shook my head. "No, no"
"Sir, I have a plan" a strange voice suddenly said.
It startled me, because I thought we were only Thorgny and me. A farmer had sat down beside me, without me having realized it.
Thorgny leaned forward and looked past me at the farmer. "Sod off, you bum! We are in the middle of an important meeting."
The peasant was about to get up, but I quickly placed a hand on his shoulder and held him down. "No, wait. I would like to hear your plan."
The peasant repliedwith a big smile. "I have followed your attempts to get into Faeries Crossing with great interest" he said with much enthusiasm. "And I have the perfect idea to how you shall succeed."
We put our heads close together, and a great deal of whispering followed. We had gathered branches and twigs. And then we sawed and hammered. The guards went with excitement to the top of the wall, but we kept out of sight, at the edge of the wood.
Some hours later we had built......
......a Trojan Rabbit...
We rolled it up to the front gate and ran back to the ditch, where we waited. We waited for the soldiers to open the gate.
"Un cadeau" said the guard, with his head sticking out from behind the door.
"What?" asked the other guards.
"A present.Oh, un cadeau."
"Oui oui, allons-y. Come."
"What happens now?" I asked the peasant expectantly.
"Well now, uh, You, the kid and I, wait until nightfall, and then leap out of the rabbit and take the the guards by surprise. Not only by surprise, but totally unarmed!" the peasant added with an insidious smile.
Thorgny stared at the peasant with a despairing glance "Who leaps out?"
The peasant pointed at me. "Uh, you, the kid and I.. Uh, leap out of the rabbit..." He scratched his head. "Ehm uh... Um, l-look, if we build this large wooden badger.." he tried, as I stared resignedly at the ground.
"So if we build a large wooden badger.."
"Run!" Thorgny suddenly yelled, when the rabbit was catapulted straight toward us.
The peasant stood as if petrified, looking up at the rabbit that was headed right at him. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, followed by a shrill scream as he was crushed under the large wooden rabbit.
I sighed deeply and looked at Thorgny, before I sat back down in the ditch.
Later that night we could hear a horse coming toward the city. Without further consideration I quickly stood up and asked Thorgny to follow me. We ran to meet the cart. I had no exact ideas, but this might be our opportunity to get in.
We stopped the cart just outside the city. It was loaded with hay. The bright evening made it possible for us to see the driver's face. A person I quickly recognized.
"Roger? Roger the Shrubber?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes-yes, it's me. Do I know you?" Roger asked slightly nervous. Maybe he was afraid we would rob him.
"Well, you did send us here to Faeries Crossing to get a new wheel for your cart" I replied.
The nervous twitching in his face, was replaced by a smile. "Oh yes, that's right. I have promised to bring a shrubbery for you, if you got the wheel for me. Have you obtained it?" he asked anxiously.
"No, we've sort of had some trouble getting into the town" Thorgny replied irritated and put his hands on his hips. "But if you have a horse, why couldn’t you yourself have fetched the wheel?"
"It's because hay delivery is just a side-job, while I wait for the wheel for my cart. Furthermore, the vehicle is registered as a company car, so I may not use it for private errands" Roger replied in his typical light-hearted tone.
Thorgny sighed resignedly. "Well, you couldn’t take us into town, so that we may get the wheels for you?"
"Sorry boys, but the carriage is provided with yellow plates, so I can bring only one of you" Roger smiled. "..Assuming of course, that you have a valid salesperson license. This horse carriage may not be used as a taxi or for transportation of unauthorized personel.. ..or people who otherwise exude questionable ancestry.."
Thorgny threw out his arms. "Fine .. We get it. You are a law abider who does everything by the book."
Roger raised one of his forefingers. "Ah, but you should always do so. Otherwise we’ll end up in the chaos."
During the time Thorgny and Roger had been talking, I had stood still thinking to myself. I had gotten an idea for how I could get into town. Unfortunately it meant that I had to leave Thorgny on the outside.
I went over to Thorgny and whispered to him "I know how I can get into town. Divert Rogers attention and then wait for me here."
Thorgny looked at me. I waited for his sign to show that he had understood me. He nodded.
"Well, see you later Roger" I said and walked behind the carriage.
Roger looked slightly confused after me before Thorgny attracted his attention with a question. "Uh, yes. Yes, I guess we will."
Thorgny stood for a brief moment. "Well.. So you’re a shrub hunter, driving with hay?"
"Shrubbery designer, yes. But hay transportation is just a side-job" Roger replied cheerfully.
"Well da" Thorgny said as if it was the most obvious thing, he was well aware of. A moment went by "..But why?"
"Why? Well, because I need a wheel for my cart. But you were with the other young man, were you not? The one who should get a wheel for me?" I could hear Roger ask.
I had crawled underneath the carriage and held on to it from beneath. Thorgny noticed me beneat the wagon. I nodded to him in order to signal that he no longer needed to divert Rogers attention. He quickly got it.
"Perhaps so" Thorgny answered in a tone as if it didn’t matter. "But I have no time to stand here and talk all night. Bye bye" Thorgny said and went away.
Roger set the carriage in movement. I could hear him talking to the guards. The gate was closed behind us. I was finally inside the town.
It was about time to find the carpenter and get Roger a new wheel.
To our great luck, I caught Roger the Shrubber on his way out of Faeries Crossing. I went over to him, with the new wheel under my arm and got it loaded on his cart. Outside the city walls, Thorgny sat and threw pebbles into the water.
Two days later we were back in the village where we had first met Roger. As we were three men strong, it didn’t take long before than we had put the new wheel on Roger the Shrubber’s cart. Unfortunately, it turned out that the wheel was somewhat larger than the old one, causing the cart to be somewhat unhandy to pull, as you had to walk with one arm raised above the other. A displacement of just about 10 centimeters. Nevertheless, there were now once again two wheels on the cart, making it usable.
"You have been a great help" Roger the Shrubber said gratefully, after he had stood still for several minutes, considering the cart and its side heavy appearance. "Lead me to the location where you wish to place the shrubbery and I shall bring it to you for a mere price of 500 gold pieces."
I looked surprised at Roger the Shrubber.
"Hey. You promised to arrange it for free, if we got you a new wheel."
Roger the Shrubber shrugged his shoulders. "Right, but we're all suffering under considerable economic stress in this period" he complained.
Thorgny straightened himself very firmly and stared at Roger. "A deal is a deal" I insisted and laid a hand on Thorgnys chest to signal that he should relax.
Roger the Shrubber nodded understandingly and packed his cart.
"Oh, Knights of Ni, we have brought you your shrubbery. May we go now?" I asked, once Roger had arranged the shrub.
"It is a good shrubbery. I like the laurel particularly" said the twelve foot tall knight, who stood in his hairy armor. "But there is one small problem."
I swallowed a lump. "What is that?"
"We are now no longer the knights who say Ní. We are now the knights who say: Ekke Ekke Ekke Ekke Ptang Zoo Boing!"
"Ní" one of the knights standing in the rear cried out.
"Therefore, we must give you a test" the tall knight said.
"What is this test, oh knights who until recently said Ni?" I asked.
"First you must find another shrubbery!" the knight said with great seriousness.
"Another shrubbery!" the other knights shouted with wild enthusiasm.
"Not another shrubbery!" I sighed resignedly.
"Then when you have found the shrubbery, you must place it here, beside this shrubbery.
Only slightly higher, creating a two-level effect with a path in the middle.."
With even greater enthusiasm, the knights in the background cheerfully shouted "A path, a path!" Followed by a few "Ni"
"..Then when you have found the shrubbery, you must cut down the mightiest tree in the forest.. with.. a herring!" which he held out while the other knights shouted "A herring, a herring" and nodded vigorously.
"We shall do no such thing" I rejected.
"Oh please" the knight pleaded.
"Cut down a tree with a herring? It can’t be done" I said and shook my head.
"Argh!" all of the knights yelled, covering their ears. "Don’t say that word."
Thorgny and I looked puzzled at each other. "What word?"
"I cannot tell. The word you say is one of the words the Knights of Ni can not hear" the knight replied.
"How can we not say the word, if you don’t tell us what it is?"
"Argh!" the knights unanimously cried out as if they were in pain. "He said the word again" said one.
"What? IS?" I asked.
"No, no" the knights replied and shook their heads.
"You won’t get far in life not saying IS" the leader of the knights noted.
"No, it’s true, of course" I nodded and wondered which word it could be.
"You said the word again" the tall knight complained. "Stop saying the word!" he begged. "The word we can not hear!"
"Oh, stop it!" I shouted irritably.
"He said it again!" the knight complained and covered his ears.
"That's it!" I said and looked at Thorgny as we set off.
"I said it. I said it. I said it again" I heard the knight say surprised when we rode away. His men complained. "Three times it."
I had spotted a hare and was about to aim, when after several attempts, Thorgny succeeded to break a branch of the tree, by hanging all his weight on it. I was standing no more than a stone's throw away from him. Thorgny had stood up against a tree and broken all the small twigs of the entire one side of the tree, and now he had moved on to a big thick branch. The sound of the thick branch which broke echoed in the otherwise quiet forest. The birds' twittering was replaced by the sound of their flapping wings. The hare had of course also been scared away.
Thorgny had spoiled our dinner. I irritably turned around to tell him the consequences of his thoughtless action, when I saw a wolf slowly coming toward me. It was unusually big. More than one meter high over the back. The fur was stiff and harsh. It had raised its bristles, showing its teeth while growling wildly at me. I quickly took aim at it with my bow. I quickly spotted around, only to realize that we were surrounded. The wolf approached me slowly. At this time it was probably no more than ten feet away from me. I took a deep breath and kept my focus. In the corner of my eye, I just manage to see a wolf come running out from the trees. I quickly turned around and fired my arrow. The wolf gave a howl as the arrow hit it. Unfortunately, the shot was not lethal. The wolf which was in the middle of a jump still had direction straight towards me. Before I had time to toss my bow away from me and draw my sword, I was knocked over, and now lay with the wolf on top of me.
I could hear Thorgny scream for help. I turned my head in the direction of the sound and saw as he tried to keep a wolf at bay with his slingshot, seconds before it leapt out at him and clung to his arm with its mouth around it. The scream that came from Thorgny cut through marrow and bone.
"Argh, let go of me!" he screamed and hit the wolf on the head as hard he could.
This however just caused the wolf to bite even harder around on his arm and Thorgny screamed even louder. I myself had serious trouble keeping my face away from the wolf lying on top of me. I could smell its breath. Drool from its raging mouth dripped down my face as it angrily barked and growled at me. I looked back at Thorgny. The wolf shook his arm wild and violently before it threw him several feet away. His body landed lifeless on the ground.
I shouted out at him "Thorgny!" but he didn’t respond.
The following second I suddenly felt the strength of ten men, and the wolf that was on top of me got light as a feather. For a moment I thought I had managed to push the wolf away. But it soon turned out that it was not me who had gotten supernatural powers. A tree branch appeared beneath the wolf, which got hurled away. It sounded a whine as it hit into a tree. The trees around me came to live. Their thick branches grabbed the wolves. The ends of the branches had taken shape as sharp claws, scratching deep wounds in the wolves.
(not actual screenshot - does not appear in game)
An arrow flew through the air and sat in the neck of one of the wolves. A dryad with only one arm, tore deep gashes in the head of the wolf, who had tossed Thorgny through the air. It whined loudly. I now laid and stared up at Agraynel. She handed me her hand and pulled me up.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I nodded and drew my sword.
Agraynel and her band of elves had attracted the attention of most of the wolves, enabling me to fight down three large wolves, who all had their eyes set on me. I looked around. All remaining wolves had gathered around Agraynel and the rest of her followers, some 30 meters away. At least two wolves circled around Agraynel. While she held her staff out to prevent the one from attacking, I could sense her lips moving, pointing at the other. Possibly she was casting some spell on them, because they didn't try to attack her. Instead they just kept circling around her, viciously showing off their sharp fangs. I aimed my bow, but trees and bushes blocked my line of sight. Besides I could risk hitting Agraynel or one of the other elves, as the wolves were now between us, so I wasn't able to aid them from this distance.
The battle was over. Agraynel gave signal to a group of elves who disappeared just as quickly as they had come.
I looked over at Agraynel. "If you hadn’t come, I’d be dead."
"Don’t worry about it" she said and pulled an arrow out of one of the wolves.
I stood and looked confused at Agraynel. "Wolves are normally shy animals. Why did they attack us?"
"Zhurag-Nar wolves are not like ordinary wolves. They are fierce creatures bred by the swamp elves. Lucky for you, the dryads had picked up their presence. What by the way, became of your friend?" Agraynel asked.
I shivered. I had forgotten all about Thorgny. Confused I turned around, but seemed only to be able to see the corpses of the many wolves. Thorgny lay perfectly still. It was bleeding from the bite in his arm, and there were several deep scratch marks on his body. His pulse was weak and he had lost much blood.
"Quick, put him on my horse" Agraynel commanded and quickly saddled up.
Gently I placed Thorgny on Agraynels horse. "Where are you taking him?" I asked.
"To my village to the north" she said and rode off.
Agraynel stood outside the city and waited for me. She went to meet me, after which I followed her into the city.
"Is he gonna make it?" I asked anxiously.
"His wounds heal fine using Phoenix tears, but it is still too soon to promise anything. I fear that he may have gotten internal injuries from the bite and the wound on his chest. But our healers are doing what they can."
We went into the hut where Thorgny lay. He lay on a bed, completely pale. His shirt, soaked with blood, revealed four large gashes on his chest. Only a slight movement of his chest showed that he was still breathing.
One healer turned towards us. "His condition is very critical. The wounds heal fine, but if he has incurred internal bleeding or has been poisoned, there's nothing more to do. Although his will is strong, his body is severely injured. But there is nothing more we can do for him at the moment. Only time can tell us if he survives" said the healer and left the hut.
Agraynel stood still for a brief moment, before she found a bottle with pink contents, and handed it to the other healer. "Here, give him this, maybe it can help."
The healer nodded and gently poured the contents into Thorgnys mouth.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Juice from the Unduko and Gazai plants, mixed with Phoenix tears" Agraynel replied. "We use this mixture to cure any poisonings and injuries we incur in the fight against swamp elves. Hopefully he is not too badly injured."
The second healer sent us a look that indicated that Thorgny needed rest and peace.
We stood outside the hut without saying a word to each other. Agraynel looked at me with pity in her eyes. I needed to think of something else, other than the risk of Thorgny dying.
"So how’s it going with uhm.. Damala?" I asked, hoping for a little cheering up.
Agraynel lowered her head before she answered. "She’s dead."
I was somewhat surprised by the announcement "Dead? But.."
Agraynel got tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath. "She had suffered some kind of poisoning. But her symptoms pointed in all directions, looking like nothing we had seen before. No matter what we tried, nothing helped."
"But she got sick during your trip, right?" I asked.
Agraynel nodded. "It was after our horses had run away."
"Had she been drinking of the water where your horses ran away?"
A few seconds went by before she answered. "...Mmmyeah. Her waterbottles had fallen off her horse when they ran away. All the water had run out, so she filled them there. Why do you ask about that?"
I hesitated. It wasn’t easy for me to tell Agraynel, that her friend was likely to re-emerge as a result of a poisoning. "Agraynel, a necromancer was behind the burning of my village. And my parents' disappearance.."
"Yes?"
"..and when I came back to the village, several people have come back to life after they’d died .."
Agraynel nodded understandingly. "I can see where you're going. I'll help you lift the necromancer’s spell and revive the Ent. But I can’t see what that has to do with Damala?"
I scratched my eyebrow. Oh, how should I say this? "I kinda fear that Damala will.. uhm.."
At the same moment a male elf came to us. "Agraynel, The Elders have called for a meeting. Our scouts have just reported that Tonwen is mobilizing her troops."
I looked baffled at Agraynel.
"I’m sorry Mudgeon. But the swamp elves are a major threat to our people. It's not your battle and therefore I do not expect that you will help us fight them, but if you want to accelerate my opportunity to help you, you can seek help from Loromir" said Agraynel and began to walk.
"Loromir?" I hastened to ask.
Agraynel turned to me. "Loromir, is an ancient dragon who lives in a cave to the southeast. You can follow the stream. It would be a great help to us if you could persuade him to support us in our fight. I really have to go now, Mudgeon. See you later, okay? "
I stood alone with a feeling of powerlessness, which I only once before in my life, had felt. The day I saw the remains of my parents burned out hut. I had no other choice but to help the elves in their fight against the swamp elves. If I were to have any hope of getting Agraynel's help, which I needed, I had to assure myself that she remained alive.
"What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers?" his colleague asked surprised.
"Well, why not?" the newly arrived guard asked.
"Can’t you just open the gate and then you can continue your discussion afterwards?" I cried imploringly to guards.
The last arriving guard looked at his colleague before he turned his gaze toward us. "What is your errand?"
"I've already told you. We wish to acquire a wheel at your carpenter" I replied in an exasperated tone.
"Do you have an access card?" the guard asked, nodding oddly to his colleague, as if they were to be extra aware of us.
"Uh.. An access card?" I asked in surprise, scratching my hair. "How do we get such a card?"
"At the citizen office inside Faeries Crossing" the guard replied, as if it was the stupidest question in the world.
"But how are we to get an access card, when the only way we acquire one, is by visiting the citizen office, which we can not get to, as we just do not have an access card to Faeries Crossing? " I asked resignedly.
"You can also gain access if you have a salesperson license" the first guard interjected, while the other nodded.
"Do you?" the second guard asked.
I gently shook my head.
"Then unfortunately, we can not let you in" the guard deplored.
"Just imagine, I had come to the same conclusion" I said to Thorgny in a low voice.
I could sense the rage roaring inside Thorgny. "That’s the dumbest foolish butt rotten rules you’ve got. Couldn’t you be a just a little large and ignore your rules just once?"
"Sorry kid, we don’t make the rules. We are merely an association of volunteer soldiers who serve the city the best we can.."
"Forget it Thorgny. We must try again later or find another way to get inside."
We sat in a nearby ditch. I looked at Thorgny. He sat with his head to one side, looking skyward. It was obvious to me that he had something in mind.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"I’m thinking of a story I once read. About King Arthur and his quest for the Holy Grail" Thorgny replied.
"Why did you think of that?" I asked wonderingly.
"Well, because in his quest for the Holy Grail, he entered all sorts of places. I thought that if we claimed to be holy knights in search of the Grail, it might be they would let us into the city " Thorgny suggested.
"Not a bad idea. It's actually not a bad idea" I smiled. "We’ll wait for the next guard shift" I concluded.
Some hours later, we finally heard the signal we had been waiting for. "Guard shift!" was shouted from the top wall. We arose from the ditch and went towards the city walls.
"Hello Hello?" I shouted.
"Hello. Who is zis?" asked the guard.
It is King Arthur and this is Thorgny, knight of the Round Table.
"What do you wanz?" asked the guard.
"God has entrusted us with a sacred quest. If you will give us food and shelter for the night, you can join our quest for the Holy Grail" said Thorgny.
"I'll ask, but I don’t think that we’ll be very keen. Uh, we already got one, you see" the guard replied.
"What?" Thorgny exclaimed.
Thorgny looked at me with wonder in his eyes. "He says they’ve already got one. What do we do now?" he asked.
"Are you sure?" I shouted back to the guard.
"Oh, yes. And it’s very nice-a" he replied.
The guard turned to his colleagues, who were hidden behind the wall and whispered "I told ‘im we already got one."
You could hear how they made an unsuccessful attempt to keep their laughter back.
"Well uhm, can we come up and have a look?" I asked.
"That’s out of the question! You are Ancarian types-a!."
"Well, what are you then?" Thorgny asked offended.
"I’m from Mercia. Why do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly man?"
"What are you doing in Ancaria?" Thorgny asked.
"Mind your own business!" the guard shouted.
"If you will not show us the grail, we’ll storm the city" Thorgny threatened.
The guard slapped his hands on his helmet and stuck his tongue out at us. "You don’t frighten us, Ancarian pig dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called Arthur-king. You and your silly ancarian knnnigget. Thpppt!"
I looked at Thorgny. "What a strange person." Thorgny just shook his head.
I turned my eyes to the guard once again. "Now look here, my good man..."
"I don’t want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smellt of elderberries!"
"Is there someone else up there, we could talk to?" I asked.
"No" the guard replied. "Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time-a."
Now I was annoyed by his insolent behavior. "Now, this is your last chance. I've been more than reasonable.."
"'Fetche lavache!" said the soldier.
"Quoi?" it came from behind the wall.
"'Fetche lavache!" he repeated with his eyes turned towards his colleagues.
"If you do not agree to my commands, then I shall.." I became speechless when a cow flew through the air. They had shot it off with a catapult. "Holy heartfailure!" I exclaimed.
"Charge!" Thorgny yelled and rushed headlong toward the wall with raised stick.
Ducks, chickens, pheasants and various cabbages were thrown down at us. Even a stuffed fox.
"Run away! Run away!" I shouted.
"Fiends! I’ll tear them apart!" Thorgny muttered as we once again sat in the ditch.
I shook my head. "No, no"
"Sir, I have a plan" a strange voice suddenly said.
It startled me, because I thought we were only Thorgny and me. A farmer had sat down beside me, without me having realized it.
Thorgny leaned forward and looked past me at the farmer. "Sod off, you bum! We are in the middle of an important meeting."
The peasant was about to get up, but I quickly placed a hand on his shoulder and held him down. "No, wait. I would like to hear your plan."
The peasant repliedwith a big smile. "I have followed your attempts to get into Faeries Crossing with great interest" he said with much enthusiasm. "And I have the perfect idea to how you shall succeed."
We put our heads close together, and a great deal of whispering followed. We had gathered branches and twigs. And then we sawed and hammered. The guards went with excitement to the top of the wall, but we kept out of sight, at the edge of the wood.
Some hours later we had built......
......a Trojan Rabbit...
We rolled it up to the front gate and ran back to the ditch, where we waited. We waited for the soldiers to open the gate.
"Un cadeau" said the guard, with his head sticking out from behind the door.
"What?" asked the other guards.
"A present.Oh, un cadeau."
"Oui oui, allons-y. Come."
"What happens now?" I asked the peasant expectantly.
"Well now, uh, You, the kid and I, wait until nightfall, and then leap out of the rabbit and take the the guards by surprise. Not only by surprise, but totally unarmed!" the peasant added with an insidious smile.
Thorgny stared at the peasant with a despairing glance "Who leaps out?"
The peasant pointed at me. "Uh, you, the kid and I.. Uh, leap out of the rabbit..." He scratched his head. "Ehm uh... Um, l-look, if we build this large wooden badger.." he tried, as I stared resignedly at the ground.
"So if we build a large wooden badger.."
"Run!" Thorgny suddenly yelled, when the rabbit was catapulted straight toward us.
The peasant stood as if petrified, looking up at the rabbit that was headed right at him. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, followed by a shrill scream as he was crushed under the large wooden rabbit.
I sighed deeply and looked at Thorgny, before I sat back down in the ditch.
Later that night we could hear a horse coming toward the city. Without further consideration I quickly stood up and asked Thorgny to follow me. We ran to meet the cart. I had no exact ideas, but this might be our opportunity to get in.
We stopped the cart just outside the city. It was loaded with hay. The bright evening made it possible for us to see the driver's face. A person I quickly recognized.
"Roger? Roger the Shrubber?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes-yes, it's me. Do I know you?" Roger asked slightly nervous. Maybe he was afraid we would rob him.
"Well, you did send us here to Faeries Crossing to get a new wheel for your cart" I replied.
The nervous twitching in his face, was replaced by a smile. "Oh yes, that's right. I have promised to bring a shrubbery for you, if you got the wheel for me. Have you obtained it?" he asked anxiously.
"No, we've sort of had some trouble getting into the town" Thorgny replied irritated and put his hands on his hips. "But if you have a horse, why couldn’t you yourself have fetched the wheel?"
"It's because hay delivery is just a side-job, while I wait for the wheel for my cart. Furthermore, the vehicle is registered as a company car, so I may not use it for private errands" Roger replied in his typical light-hearted tone.
Thorgny sighed resignedly. "Well, you couldn’t take us into town, so that we may get the wheels for you?"
"Sorry boys, but the carriage is provided with yellow plates, so I can bring only one of you" Roger smiled. "..Assuming of course, that you have a valid salesperson license. This horse carriage may not be used as a taxi or for transportation of unauthorized personel.. ..or people who otherwise exude questionable ancestry.."
Thorgny threw out his arms. "Fine .. We get it. You are a law abider who does everything by the book."
Roger raised one of his forefingers. "Ah, but you should always do so. Otherwise we’ll end up in the chaos."
During the time Thorgny and Roger had been talking, I had stood still thinking to myself. I had gotten an idea for how I could get into town. Unfortunately it meant that I had to leave Thorgny on the outside.
I went over to Thorgny and whispered to him "I know how I can get into town. Divert Rogers attention and then wait for me here."
Thorgny looked at me. I waited for his sign to show that he had understood me. He nodded.
"Well, see you later Roger" I said and walked behind the carriage.
Roger looked slightly confused after me before Thorgny attracted his attention with a question. "Uh, yes. Yes, I guess we will."
Thorgny stood for a brief moment. "Well.. So you’re a shrub hunter, driving with hay?"
"Shrubbery designer, yes. But hay transportation is just a side-job" Roger replied cheerfully.
"Well da" Thorgny said as if it was the most obvious thing, he was well aware of. A moment went by "..But why?"
"Why? Well, because I need a wheel for my cart. But you were with the other young man, were you not? The one who should get a wheel for me?" I could hear Roger ask.
I had crawled underneath the carriage and held on to it from beneath. Thorgny noticed me beneat the wagon. I nodded to him in order to signal that he no longer needed to divert Rogers attention. He quickly got it.
"Perhaps so" Thorgny answered in a tone as if it didn’t matter. "But I have no time to stand here and talk all night. Bye bye" Thorgny said and went away.
Roger set the carriage in movement. I could hear him talking to the guards. The gate was closed behind us. I was finally inside the town.
It was about time to find the carpenter and get Roger a new wheel.
To our great luck, I caught Roger the Shrubber on his way out of Faeries Crossing. I went over to him, with the new wheel under my arm and got it loaded on his cart. Outside the city walls, Thorgny sat and threw pebbles into the water.
Two days later we were back in the village where we had first met Roger. As we were three men strong, it didn’t take long before than we had put the new wheel on Roger the Shrubber’s cart. Unfortunately, it turned out that the wheel was somewhat larger than the old one, causing the cart to be somewhat unhandy to pull, as you had to walk with one arm raised above the other. A displacement of just about 10 centimeters. Nevertheless, there were now once again two wheels on the cart, making it usable.
"You have been a great help" Roger the Shrubber said gratefully, after he had stood still for several minutes, considering the cart and its side heavy appearance. "Lead me to the location where you wish to place the shrubbery and I shall bring it to you for a mere price of 500 gold pieces."
I looked surprised at Roger the Shrubber.
"Hey. You promised to arrange it for free, if we got you a new wheel."
Roger the Shrubber shrugged his shoulders. "Right, but we're all suffering under considerable economic stress in this period" he complained.
Thorgny straightened himself very firmly and stared at Roger. "A deal is a deal" I insisted and laid a hand on Thorgnys chest to signal that he should relax.
Roger the Shrubber nodded understandingly and packed his cart.
"Oh, Knights of Ni, we have brought you your shrubbery. May we go now?" I asked, once Roger had arranged the shrub.
"It is a good shrubbery. I like the laurel particularly" said the twelve foot tall knight, who stood in his hairy armor. "But there is one small problem."
I swallowed a lump. "What is that?"
"We are now no longer the knights who say Ní. We are now the knights who say: Ekke Ekke Ekke Ekke Ptang Zoo Boing!"
"Ní" one of the knights standing in the rear cried out.
"Therefore, we must give you a test" the tall knight said.
"What is this test, oh knights who until recently said Ni?" I asked.
"First you must find another shrubbery!" the knight said with great seriousness.
"Another shrubbery!" the other knights shouted with wild enthusiasm.
"Not another shrubbery!" I sighed resignedly.
"Then when you have found the shrubbery, you must place it here, beside this shrubbery.
Only slightly higher, creating a two-level effect with a path in the middle.."
With even greater enthusiasm, the knights in the background cheerfully shouted "A path, a path!" Followed by a few "Ni"
"..Then when you have found the shrubbery, you must cut down the mightiest tree in the forest.. with.. a herring!" which he held out while the other knights shouted "A herring, a herring" and nodded vigorously.
"We shall do no such thing" I rejected.
"Oh please" the knight pleaded.
"Cut down a tree with a herring? It can’t be done" I said and shook my head.
"Argh!" all of the knights yelled, covering their ears. "Don’t say that word."
Thorgny and I looked puzzled at each other. "What word?"
"I cannot tell. The word you say is one of the words the Knights of Ni can not hear" the knight replied.
"How can we not say the word, if you don’t tell us what it is?"
"Argh!" the knights unanimously cried out as if they were in pain. "He said the word again" said one.
"What? IS?" I asked.
"No, no" the knights replied and shook their heads.
"You won’t get far in life not saying IS" the leader of the knights noted.
"No, it’s true, of course" I nodded and wondered which word it could be.
"You said the word again" the tall knight complained. "Stop saying the word!" he begged. "The word we can not hear!"
"Oh, stop it!" I shouted irritably.
"He said it again!" the knight complained and covered his ears.
"That's it!" I said and looked at Thorgny as we set off.
"I said it. I said it. I said it again" I heard the knight say surprised when we rode away. His men complained. "Three times it."
I had spotted a hare and was about to aim, when after several attempts, Thorgny succeeded to break a branch of the tree, by hanging all his weight on it. I was standing no more than a stone's throw away from him. Thorgny had stood up against a tree and broken all the small twigs of the entire one side of the tree, and now he had moved on to a big thick branch. The sound of the thick branch which broke echoed in the otherwise quiet forest. The birds' twittering was replaced by the sound of their flapping wings. The hare had of course also been scared away.
Thorgny had spoiled our dinner. I irritably turned around to tell him the consequences of his thoughtless action, when I saw a wolf slowly coming toward me. It was unusually big. More than one meter high over the back. The fur was stiff and harsh. It had raised its bristles, showing its teeth while growling wildly at me. I quickly took aim at it with my bow. I quickly spotted around, only to realize that we were surrounded. The wolf approached me slowly. At this time it was probably no more than ten feet away from me. I took a deep breath and kept my focus. In the corner of my eye, I just manage to see a wolf come running out from the trees. I quickly turned around and fired my arrow. The wolf gave a howl as the arrow hit it. Unfortunately, the shot was not lethal. The wolf which was in the middle of a jump still had direction straight towards me. Before I had time to toss my bow away from me and draw my sword, I was knocked over, and now lay with the wolf on top of me.
I could hear Thorgny scream for help. I turned my head in the direction of the sound and saw as he tried to keep a wolf at bay with his slingshot, seconds before it leapt out at him and clung to his arm with its mouth around it. The scream that came from Thorgny cut through marrow and bone.
"Argh, let go of me!" he screamed and hit the wolf on the head as hard he could.
This however just caused the wolf to bite even harder around on his arm and Thorgny screamed even louder. I myself had serious trouble keeping my face away from the wolf lying on top of me. I could smell its breath. Drool from its raging mouth dripped down my face as it angrily barked and growled at me. I looked back at Thorgny. The wolf shook his arm wild and violently before it threw him several feet away. His body landed lifeless on the ground.
I shouted out at him "Thorgny!" but he didn’t respond.
The following second I suddenly felt the strength of ten men, and the wolf that was on top of me got light as a feather. For a moment I thought I had managed to push the wolf away. But it soon turned out that it was not me who had gotten supernatural powers. A tree branch appeared beneath the wolf, which got hurled away. It sounded a whine as it hit into a tree. The trees around me came to live. Their thick branches grabbed the wolves. The ends of the branches had taken shape as sharp claws, scratching deep wounds in the wolves.
(not actual screenshot - does not appear in game)An arrow flew through the air and sat in the neck of one of the wolves. A dryad with only one arm, tore deep gashes in the head of the wolf, who had tossed Thorgny through the air. It whined loudly. I now laid and stared up at Agraynel. She handed me her hand and pulled me up.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I nodded and drew my sword.
Agraynel and her band of elves had attracted the attention of most of the wolves, enabling me to fight down three large wolves, who all had their eyes set on me. I looked around. All remaining wolves had gathered around Agraynel and the rest of her followers, some 30 meters away. At least two wolves circled around Agraynel. While she held her staff out to prevent the one from attacking, I could sense her lips moving, pointing at the other. Possibly she was casting some spell on them, because they didn't try to attack her. Instead they just kept circling around her, viciously showing off their sharp fangs. I aimed my bow, but trees and bushes blocked my line of sight. Besides I could risk hitting Agraynel or one of the other elves, as the wolves were now between us, so I wasn't able to aid them from this distance.
The battle was over. Agraynel gave signal to a group of elves who disappeared just as quickly as they had come.
I looked over at Agraynel. "If you hadn’t come, I’d be dead."
"Don’t worry about it" she said and pulled an arrow out of one of the wolves.
I stood and looked confused at Agraynel. "Wolves are normally shy animals. Why did they attack us?"
"Zhurag-Nar wolves are not like ordinary wolves. They are fierce creatures bred by the swamp elves. Lucky for you, the dryads had picked up their presence. What by the way, became of your friend?" Agraynel asked.
I shivered. I had forgotten all about Thorgny. Confused I turned around, but seemed only to be able to see the corpses of the many wolves. Thorgny lay perfectly still. It was bleeding from the bite in his arm, and there were several deep scratch marks on his body. His pulse was weak and he had lost much blood.
"Quick, put him on my horse" Agraynel commanded and quickly saddled up.
Gently I placed Thorgny on Agraynels horse. "Where are you taking him?" I asked.
"To my village to the north" she said and rode off.
Agraynel stood outside the city and waited for me. She went to meet me, after which I followed her into the city.
"Is he gonna make it?" I asked anxiously.
"His wounds heal fine using Phoenix tears, but it is still too soon to promise anything. I fear that he may have gotten internal injuries from the bite and the wound on his chest. But our healers are doing what they can."
We went into the hut where Thorgny lay. He lay on a bed, completely pale. His shirt, soaked with blood, revealed four large gashes on his chest. Only a slight movement of his chest showed that he was still breathing.
One healer turned towards us. "His condition is very critical. The wounds heal fine, but if he has incurred internal bleeding or has been poisoned, there's nothing more to do. Although his will is strong, his body is severely injured. But there is nothing more we can do for him at the moment. Only time can tell us if he survives" said the healer and left the hut.
Agraynel stood still for a brief moment, before she found a bottle with pink contents, and handed it to the other healer. "Here, give him this, maybe it can help."
The healer nodded and gently poured the contents into Thorgnys mouth.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Juice from the Unduko and Gazai plants, mixed with Phoenix tears" Agraynel replied. "We use this mixture to cure any poisonings and injuries we incur in the fight against swamp elves. Hopefully he is not too badly injured."
The second healer sent us a look that indicated that Thorgny needed rest and peace.
We stood outside the hut without saying a word to each other. Agraynel looked at me with pity in her eyes. I needed to think of something else, other than the risk of Thorgny dying.
"So how’s it going with uhm.. Damala?" I asked, hoping for a little cheering up.
Agraynel lowered her head before she answered. "She’s dead."
I was somewhat surprised by the announcement "Dead? But.."
Agraynel got tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath. "She had suffered some kind of poisoning. But her symptoms pointed in all directions, looking like nothing we had seen before. No matter what we tried, nothing helped."
"But she got sick during your trip, right?" I asked.
Agraynel nodded. "It was after our horses had run away."
"Had she been drinking of the water where your horses ran away?"
A few seconds went by before she answered. "...Mmmyeah. Her waterbottles had fallen off her horse when they ran away. All the water had run out, so she filled them there. Why do you ask about that?"
I hesitated. It wasn’t easy for me to tell Agraynel, that her friend was likely to re-emerge as a result of a poisoning. "Agraynel, a necromancer was behind the burning of my village. And my parents' disappearance.."
"Yes?"
"..and when I came back to the village, several people have come back to life after they’d died .."
Agraynel nodded understandingly. "I can see where you're going. I'll help you lift the necromancer’s spell and revive the Ent. But I can’t see what that has to do with Damala?"
I scratched my eyebrow. Oh, how should I say this? "I kinda fear that Damala will.. uhm.."
At the same moment a male elf came to us. "Agraynel, The Elders have called for a meeting. Our scouts have just reported that Tonwen is mobilizing her troops."
I looked baffled at Agraynel.
"I’m sorry Mudgeon. But the swamp elves are a major threat to our people. It's not your battle and therefore I do not expect that you will help us fight them, but if you want to accelerate my opportunity to help you, you can seek help from Loromir" said Agraynel and began to walk.
"Loromir?" I hastened to ask.
Agraynel turned to me. "Loromir, is an ancient dragon who lives in a cave to the southeast. You can follow the stream. It would be a great help to us if you could persuade him to support us in our fight. I really have to go now, Mudgeon. See you later, okay? "
I stood alone with a feeling of powerlessness, which I only once before in my life, had felt. The day I saw the remains of my parents burned out hut. I had no other choice but to help the elves in their fight against the swamp elves. If I were to have any hope of getting Agraynel's help, which I needed, I had to assure myself that she remained alive.
Last edited by Anonymous on 02 Sep 2013, 20:20, edited 6 times in total.
Thorgny walked by my side, carrying a torch. He was back on his feet again. It was amazing how quickly he had regained his strenght. A few days ago, it was still uncertain whether he would make it, but Agraynels potion and the elven healers had performed miracles for Thorgny's injuries, and he had insisted on coming along, in my attempt to persuade the dragon, Loromir, to help Agraynel and the woodelves in the battle for their survival. It was the third time I went into the cave to find Loromir. During my futile attempts, I had found that the cave was somewhat deeper than first asumed. After we had walked for about ten minutes without seeing the shadow of the dragon, we began to call out. Thorgny's cry gave an echo which continued almost ad infinitum. This left us with an impression that the cave could be miles long. We went further into the cave, while we still cried out for Loromir.
" Hello! ..hello.. ...hello.. ...ello.. ...ello.. ..lo.. Loromor!? ..Loromir.. ...lorormir.. ...oromir.. ..oromir.. ...mir.."
It felt as if we had walked for hours and I had not previously been this far inside the cave, when the doubt arose once again. Maybe he wasn’t at home? Maybe we should just come back another day. It was gnawing at me, that my best chance to get certainty about my parents' fate rested with a dragon, which seemed impossible to find. We turned around and walked back towards the cave exit. Suddenly we found ourself staring into a pair of big yellow eyes. It startled me. Slowly Thorgny lifted the torch and could quickly ascertain that the creature which stood before us was a gigantic dragon at least fifteen feet tall. I could not see its tail, but guessed that it had to be at least twentyfive feet long. It was huge.
"Loromir?" I asked gently.
"No one else but me lives in this cave. Who are you and why have you come? Are you dragon hunters?" the dragon asked and sent out a cloud of smoke directly into my head.
"No, we have not come to fight against you. On the contrary, we have come to ask for your help."
"My Help? Whatever for?"
I explained my situation with my parents and how Agraynel now had sent me, in hope that Loromir would assist them in fighting Tonwen and the swamp elves.
Loromir listened with great interest and nodded in recognition at the last part.
"I've heard the story of how Tonwen was banished from the forest, and there can be no doubt that what she did was unforgivable, but I can not see that this fight has anything to do with me. I have lived here alone since I came here when the old world was destroyed. In the old world, we green and gold dragons used to live with the elves, but now I'm the last of my kind and I don’t believe I owe the elves anything. I just want to live in peace and quietness. Alone in my cave" Loromir replied and walked past us, heading deep into the cave.
"Then you’re not going to help us?" I asked desperately.
"Why should I?" replied Loromir. "It's not my fight."
Thorgny stepped in front of the dragon. "Hey, just listen okay. We’ve both lost our families during the attack. I know for sure that my parents are dead, but my friend here does not know what happened to his parents. He still has a chance to find them, but he needs the help of the elves, but they won’t help until the swamp elves are no longer a threat to them.."
"It grieves me to hear about your families, but I can not help you" Loromir replied and walked around Thorgny.
Thorgny hurried to run in front Loromir and stopped him again.
"Less than a week ago, I was attacked by a wolf. One of her.., Tonwen's wolves. The elves saved my life. I have nothing to return to, no family, nothing to live for, so I might as well help them in their struggle. What do you have to live for? Will you just die grumpy and lonely, without having accomplished anything? I'm going to spend my life on something sensible. What will you spend your life on? Living alone in this here cave and reject anyone who might ask for your help?"
"You doesn’t give up that easy, huh? I can sense that I won’t get peace from you before you get your will. Hmmm .. You know what, I'm actually a little bit hungry and I don’t think clearly on an empty stomach. If you could find me some food, I shall reconsider my decision."
Thorgny and I looked at each other with smiles. "Well, obviously we will do so" I replied. "But, uh, what does a dragon eat?"
"Children and little people are my favorites. Bring me twenty children, I'm starving, I tell you."
I stood silenced. Thorgny was not quite as skeptical as me. I think he would be willing to go far, but that was too much for me.
"You can not be serious? You expect us to bring you twenty kids that you can eat?" I said with a deep disgust in my voice.
"No, I'm only joking. Five deer or cows should do it."
I stood behind a tree and drew my bow. A whole bunch of deer grazed in the area around me. Loromir had insisted that Thorgny stayed and entertained him. Apparently there was something about Thorgny he liked. What it was, I had trouble seeing. Although I really enjoyed having him as a companion, and sincerely had been worried if he would’ve survived, I didn’t particularly like Thorgny’s personality. His rudeness and disrespect. Perhaps his company was only preferable measured against the loneliness of travelling alone. I let the thoughts out of my mind and concentrated on my aim.
An elf quietly came up to me. "Aren’t you Agraynel’s friend?" he whispered.
I nodded while I maintained my focus.
I could sense that he nodded. "Is that venison you're after?"
I nodded again, and tensed my bow as much as I could, ready to release my arrow.
A combination of shock and disgust spread in his face, before he placed his hand on my arm and lowered it by force.
I looked wonderingly at him. "But .."
"Under the wood elves summarized Rules for Conservation of Nature paragraph, 12:73; There shall be no poaching..."
"I just wanted to.... " I tried.
"...of wildlife in forest areas. All perpetrators..."
"I just need ..."
"... of this act shall be punished according to ..."
"If you’d just let me explain!"
"...fifteen flicks on the forehead."
With that he "punished" me. "Owww!" I exclaimed, and held a hand against my forehead. "May I not be allowed to explain myself?"
The elf lifted his head up high. "I can not see what there is to explain. You would be poaching. You have abused our trust for private gain."
"Now, that’s not entirely true.."
"Well, is it not? I recall you said youself, that you were looking for venison" he said with a very certain look.
"Yeah, but it's not for myself.."
"No, poaching rarely is."
"Now if you’d just allow me to explain.."
"Well, I’m eagerly awaiting. How much time do you need, to come up with a good explanation? Five minutes? Ten minutes?" I could hear by the tone in his voice, that he became more and more irritated.
"They are for Loromir.." I said, while rubbing my forehead.
"For Loromir? The dragon?"
I nodded. "Agraynel asked me to try to persuade Loromir to assist you in the fight against Tonwen and.."
"Loromir requested five deer to agree?" he asked with a smile.
"Well, he would at least further consider it, after he had eaten."
"You should have said so from the start. Then we could have avoided this little misunderstanding. I'll help you" said the elf and went over and cut the throats of all five deer. "Would you like me to help draging them to his cave?" asked the elf in a friendly voice as he tied their legs together.
"Yes, very much" I replied.
Along with the elf, I dragged the five deer to Loromir's cave. The elf left me in front of the cave with the five dead deer. I went in to tell Loromir that his food was ready ouside of the cave. He took the five deer in his mouth and went back into the cave to eat in peace. I was curious to hear how the two had spent the past hours. From the way Thorgny walked and smiled, it seemed as if they had gotten to know each other quite well, so I asked Thorgny what they had done while I was gone.
"We just talked a little. Stories. Not so much actually" Thorgny replied and shrugged his shoulders. He seemed a little tight-lipped. As if he was putting himself a little distance to me.
"Do you know if he will help us, then?" I asked expectantly.
Thorgny sat down on a rock and rooted around in the soil with his one foot. "Well, that hasn’t exactly been what we've talked about. Maybe."
I sat down on another rock next to Thorgny and tried to get him to talk. "Okay. Well, it seems as if you’ve had a good time, in company with Loromir."
Thorgny shrugged slightly on his shoulders without looking at me. "I might have, I suppose."
Suddenly a loud roar sounded from inside the cave. Thorgny rushed in there with me right behind.
"What has happened?" I asked when I saw Thorgny standing together with the dragon. Thorgny stood with his whole upper body inside the mouth of the dragon.
"I think he has a thigh bone stuck between the rear teeth. I can not get it out. We need a special toothpick that won’t break against his hard teeth. Poor Loro."
"A giant toothpick? Can’t we try with a long branch or perhaps an arrow?" I suggested.
Thorgny shook his head while Loromir loudly complained. "I don’t think a branch is strong enough. And an arrow is certainly not big enough. We might try using a lance or other long thin object that could get in between his back teeth and pry the bone free."
Thorgny came to meet me. "It’s about time. Now we can finally get that rotten bone out of there."
Thorgny was strugling to get the bone out of Loromirs mouth. But judging from Loromirs facial expressions, it wasn’t entirely painless. But after a few minutes of struggle, Thorgny managed to get the bone out. Loromir was relieved.
"Thank you my friend" Loromir said to Thorgny. "I believe I owe you a favour on top of this."
I found it hard not to feel slighted. After all it was I who had delivered the five deer and the halberd which Thorgny had used as a toothpick.
Loromir looked down at me. "I have good news for you. I've decided that I am willing to help you."
I had trouble keeping my smile back.
"..but I have certain terms. Before heading into battle for the elves, I wanna assure my own life. Unfortunately I can no longer put my trust in the wood elves to do everything they can, in order to keep me alive. I fear that they are of the opinion that a giant like me can take care of myself. But I'm no longer young, and I'm probably a little out of touch with my combat abilities, so I want my own personal bodyguards. "
"I will talk to Agraynel. I’m sure your terms won’t be a problem" I replied.
"You’re not quite following me. I want my own personal bodyguards, whom I will train myself, but it should not be elves. Go to the nearest village and see if you can recruit ten brave men. It has always been a special honor to be trained by a dragon, so it shouldn’t be a problem finding volunteers."
I looked at Thorgny and waited for him to go with me. "Aren’t you coming along?" I asked.
"No, I’ve made a deal with Loromir, that he will train me so I can become one of his bodyguards" he replied with a certain amount of pride.
I nodded without saying a word.
When I arrived with the ten brave men, Loromir was quick to come and greet me. Thorgny was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, are those the ten brave men, who want the honor of being my personal bodyguards?" asked Loromir and glanced at the ten men.
I nodded. They didn't look like much. The brave men, that is. By far, most of them were former peasants who until recently, voluntarily had acted as guards in Faeries Crossing. How much experience they actually possesed, I didn’t know. But what could you expect from a bunch of volunteers, whose only merit would be the honor?
"When will you be ready for battle?" I asked, thinking of the time that had passed since I left Mr. Beech and Farmerville.
"Come back in a few days" said Loromir and led the men into the cave.
I rode back to Rocky Springs, where I knew Agraynel was to be found.
She welcomed me. "How is the persuasion of Loromir going?" she asked as we walked through the town.
"He has agreed, on term that he gets ten personal bodyguards.."
"No problem" Agraynel smiled. "I'll see to it that ten of our best warriors will guard him with their lives."
"Well, you see.." I said adding a little length to each word. "That is roughly the same answer I gave him, but he insisted that he would train them himself. And therefore no elves should protect him."
Agraynel stopped momentarily and looked up toward the tall trees. "So he doesn’t have full confidence in us" she murmured to herself, before we went on.
"But not to worry, before I rode here, I delivered him ten brave men. He believed they would be ready in a few days" I said with a big smile.
Agraynel put a hand on my shoulder and smiled gently. "Very well. I am deeply grateful, Mudgeon. For the help you have given us. And I promise that I will help you when the time is right. But tell me.. What reason does Loromir have to help us, if he doesn’t expect anything in return? "
"He said that what Tonwen had done was unforgivable, but it wasn’t his fight. Fortunately, it seems that Thorgny apparently can be quite persuasive" I replied with a half smile. I missed his company.
"Is he with Loromir?" Agraynel asked.
I looked longingly into the air and nodded. "Loromir has promised to train him. He’s going to be one of his bodyguards."
Agraynel looked at me with a pitying look that indicated that it was easy for her to see that I missed him. I broke the silence. "What was it really that Tonwen did, that was so unforgivable? And why this fight? Your kinds are related."
"When we first came to this new world, there were some heated discussions about whether we should still have a senior citizens' council, or if we should just have one leader. Elven societies are built up in a way so that all families have one member, the oldest member of the family, seated in what we call the Elders. But Tonwen came here alone. Her family was killed many years ago, during an attack led by orcs and goblins. Tonwen had long tried to get a seat in the Elders, but despite the fact that she was the only one left in her family, the council said that she was too young. She therefore insisted that the time had come for another form of governance. This world and this land were unknown to us, and she believed that we could no longer continue protecting nature in the same peaceful way we did in the old world. We had to protect ourselves, our breed and create a home for ourselves. And this would mean that we would have to make some decisions which previously would not have been accepted among our people. Tonwen on the other hand, was ready to take these decisions and lead our people to new times of greatness. She was a very clever druid and partly because of her magical abilities, she suggested that she should be appointed highpriestess, thus leading the wood peoples. The majority of our people, however, had a different opinion and still wanted the Elders to make decisions on behalf of our people. But what caused her banishment to the swamps, was when she sacrificed a whole litter of white tiger cubs, in order to sew armour of their skins for her boyfriend, Taneru. White tigers are sacred animals to us, but Tonwen believed that she could create powerful magic armour and helmets from their skin, and believed that she was with in her rights to sacrifice them for the benefit of our people. However she was surprised by the mother, who managed to give her some distinctive scars on her face, before Tonwen killed her too. When the Elders saw Taneru wearing the skin of white tigers, they were both banished. But not before Tonwen swore her revenge. Unfortunately, it turned out that they had a small group of supporters, who followed them into the swamp."
Our conversation was interrupted by an elf that had just landed with a griffin, a few meters from us. "Agraynel, our scouts have just reported, that they have seen Tonwens troops in the area. They have left the swamp" he said breathlessly.
"Do the Elders, know this?" Agraynel asked.
"Not yet. But I was on my way" he replied.
"We must gather people in the cities. It is no longer safe to walk in the woods alone." Agraynel looked at me. "Stay here in the Rocky Springs for a few days. When Loromir is ready, head for Oak Creek. I'll meet you there."
While Agraynel and a small group flew off to Oak Creek, I stayed in Rocky Springs. Three days went by, without anyone in town hearing news about Tonwens troops. I didn’t hear from Agraynel either. As there hadn’t been news of increased danger, I decided to leave town to see how Loromir was doing with the training.
It was a sad and slightly embarrassed Loromir I met outside his cave.
"How's the training going?" I asked expectantly.
Loromir tried to evade my question, but then he confessed. "The training has gone well, but we had a minor accident yesterday."
"An accident?"
"Yes, we were in the middle of training when I got a cough, during a demonstration."
Loromir held a long pause, so I pressed on, in order to know what had happened. "And then..?"
"Uh, and then some of my students they.. ehm.. shall we say, evaporated .."
"Evaporated?" I exclaimed.
Loromir tried to ease my concern. "But only a few of them. But uh.. Well, the rest kinda fled in fear.."
"And Thorgny?"
"No, he didn’t flee. But I need ten new men" Loromir said with an embarrassed look on his face.
I looked up at Loromir’s big face in discouragement. "Another ten men?"
"Okay, let's say nine. I've already got Thorgny. But perhaps you should find some who possess a little more courage than the first ones did."
"Courage?" I muttered to myself as I walked out of the cave. Courage might prevent you from fleeing in fear, but it was hardly of much help against a dragon’s all-consuming firebreath.
"Ah, I see that you have returned. And you have brought some fine soldiers for me." Loromir smiled at the sight of me and the men in armor. "We shall begin their training immediatly."
I sighed a little to myself. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to train them. This time I stayed near the cave. I felt that I had already wasted enough time, so the instant Loromir was ready to go into battle, I would know it right away.
A larger group of svampelves rapidly came toward us, while swinging their swords wildly around them. Several of them whirled around themself with outstretched arms. They moved with such speed that they were difficult for archers to hit. Their torsos were covered with strange signs and markings, presumably magical symbols which were intended to protect them.
"Avoid melee combat with them Mudgeon" Agraynel yelled at me. "They are so-called war dancers. Masters of sword fighting. They are very fast and often strikes several blows, before their opponent even manage to react."
Thanks for the warning I thought to myself, before I first handed watched as a small group of Sprites, got showered by a barrage of hits from one of these fearsome warriors.
A large part of our entourage had lost the battle against Taneru and his troops. I assured myself that Agraynel was still alive. As was Loromir, I could see. But Thorgny had fallen in battle. He had been hit by several arrows with great force, which had pierced through his body. I had seen how Taneru had stretched his mighty bow, and sent an arrow through Thorgnys chest before he had been overpowered. Together with Agraynel I went over to Taneru's corpse. I looked at his bloody tigerskin clothings, before I wrenched his bow from his dead hands. Agraynel took the white tiger armor and his headgear, which was made of a tiger's head. The power these garments possessed was too powerful to simply leave behind.
Autumn was upon us, when we finally were on our way back to Farmerville. On the way, we passed a small farmhouse where a young man frantically ran around between some trees while waving his arms.
"No, no, no! It's terrible! Look!" he pointed. "The leaves are falling off. It's terrible! No, no, no, no, no! The leaves fall off the trees! Do something!" He pursued a horse carriage which passed by. "Help, stop! The leaves are falling off the trees! Do something!"
We stood and looked with amazement at his behaviour as a middle-aged man suddenly approached Agraynel.
"Tell me, are you not one of them thar elves?" he asked.
"Yes, I am" Agraynel answered.
The man pointed at Agraynel. "Then infact it's your responsibility that the leaves fall off. It happened last year, and also the year before and in ’99. Matter of fact, it's happened the past 14 years. Except in the ‘98
A window at the house stood open. The wife stuck out her head and shouted something to the man. "I’m now told that it also happened in ’98. It happens every year. It has happened every year, ever. Why don’t you do something about it? "The man asked accusingly.
Agraynel looked wonderingly at the man before she answered." You can’t do anything about it."
"Well, you’ll have to do something about it" the man went on." Does somebody have to die before a corpse is put on the table? How can this happen?"
Agraynel tilted her head slightly. "That’s a long technical explanation, but what in short sense happens in the leaves, is that the sunlight through glorofyl converts carbon dioxide and water in the photosynthesis to sugar substances. And then there is some evaporation in the leaves as well, so there is a lot of water that needs to be transported from the roots. In winter, if the weather is freezing, then they simply can’t retrieve all the water from the ground, so in order to survive, they simply drop the leaves."
"Yes. You know what young lady, that there, right? That’s judgement of taste of the worst kind. You're such an expert who believes that just because you are an expert of something, then you are an expert of something. So, you've read a lot of books, and then you come and beat us ordinary people with your knowledge about trees "said the man and waved his arms in a silly way."I know a lot about trees. I know much more about trees than you do "he said in a tone that suggested that he was imitating Agraynel."Well you don’t. Arbiter of taste! Ptff! Yuck! You know what?! The leaves fall off the trees in the winter because.." he continued in the same ridiculing voice.
"You know what, this.." said Agraynel and looked resignedly at me.
"..it gets summer and winter and fall, everyone bloody knows that" said the man angrily and stomped on the ground a little.
"..This I’m not gonna put up with. You can forget about it.." Agraynel said and began to walk away with heavy steps. I looked with great amazement back and forth between the man and Agraynel a few times before I soon followed Agraynel.
"You know what?" cried the man. "I shall ask you to leave! Right now!"
"Well, goodbye" Agraynel simply replied without looking back.
"Leave! Come back! You’re running from your responsibility!"
"Damala?"
Agraynel stood as if petrified. Her friend, she had helped bury only weeks earlier, now stood before us. Her face had turned a cold lifeless color. She stared back at us with a blank look. She had suffered the same fate as the residents here in Farmerville.
"Damala?" Agraynel repeated while she looked at me with despair in her eyes. "But how..?"
"That's what I’ve been trying to tell you. I learned that the drinking water in the region had been poisoned, and when you told me that Damala had died, I feared that she would be resurrected. I tried to tell you, but every time I got interrupted.."
Agraynel simply gazed blankly at me with eyes full of despair. Suddenly Morrex came shambling towards us with heavy steps. Agraynel drew her sword and turned to Morrex.
"It’s useless Agraynel. There is a curse on the village. They will just be brought back to life again. We must find a way to dispel the spell, otherwise.."
My attempt to explain my previous episode with Morrex was interrupted by a flick of rotten body fluids that hit my face. Agraynel had swung her sword and cut the throat of Morrex, who now stood swaying for a moment before he fell.
Agraynel took a deep breath and wiped a tear from her cheek before she drove her sword through the belly of Damala. As she stood leaning over Damala's corpse, she recited what I suppose was the elven spell to lift necromancy. None of them stood up again.
I buried Morrex while Agraynel buried Damala. She found a stick, which she used to write on Damalas grave.
"What did you write?" I asked.
"Kukaan ei ansaitsee Tulla haudatuksi kahdesti - No one deserves to be buried twice" Agraynel replied and proceeded towards the village.
Hubert and his wife were in the ramshackle hut, along with the man who had lived here. Ezsebeth still watched over her corpse, scaring crows away. I handed Hubert's wife, the missing bones.
"They fit well enough, although they are slightly gnawed" she said as she pieced him together. "..Hey a rib has fallen off" he noted, once he was back on his feet. "But who needs all of his ribs anyway? They're just for decoration."
I stood in the doorway and looked at Agraynel. We nodded to each other before I started to perform the exorcism. I carefully read aloud from the scroll, but despite loud screams of agony from the dead villagers, it didn’t appear to have much effect. I went outside to Agraynel.
"Did it work?" she asked.
I shook my head. "No. It caused them nothing but pain."
Agraynel closed her eyes and began to recite an incantation. She repeated it over and over again. I walked around the hut, to the place where Ezsebeth had watched over her earthly remains. She wasn’t there. Only her badly decomposed body could be seen. I called her a few times but got no answer. I went back to the cottage. Agraynel came out with a crafty smile.
"They've found peace" she said quietly and walked over to her horse. "Now show me to the Ent. Hopefully its spirit is not too weakened."
I stood and looked at the dead tree. There were still facial features to be seen in the burned bark. But that was what revealed that this was not just an ordinary wood. But an Ent. Or what had been an Ent. I looked over at Agraynel with a despairing look. "Is there anything you can do? I mean is there any hope that I could find out what really happened?"
Agraynel shrugged and pursed her lips while she walked around the tree and felt it with her hands. It was almost as if she was looking for something specific.
"The optimistic would probably say that there is always hope" she replied cryptically. Then she began to dig into the ground with her hands.
I looked at her in wonder. "What are you doing?"
She stopped digging and looked up at me. "What do you see?" she asked, pointing at the place she had dug under the tree.
"I don’t know" I sighed resignedly, without the faintest idea what it was she wanted me to see. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Dirt? Roots?"
She smiled and nodded "The Ents roots."
"Yes, but what does it mean? It's hardly a surprise to anyone that an Ent has roots. All trees have."
"Look at the roots, Mudgeon."
I stepped a little closer. "They still look fresh" I replied softly with a wrinkled brow. I didn’t yet fully understand the importance of this.
"It means that there is hope" she smiled. "Normally, the roots of a burned-out tree would be dried out by now, months later, but this could indicate that there is still a bit of life in The Ent. Give me your hand" she said and placed her other hand on the tree. I did the same. She began to recite an incantation. It wasn’t long before I started getting a strange feeling in my body. It was quite uncomfortable. As if she was draining me of energy. I slowly began feeling more and more dizzy. I had to sit down.
Agraynel looked down at me. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I nodded quietly. "Yes, I think so. I just got a little dizzy."
"Oh, sorry about that, but I thought you knew. But a healing may well affect you like that" Agraynel giggled.
"It's okay" I replied and remained sitting with my head between my legs. "Did it work?"
Seconds after there was a life-affirming gasp from the Ent. We both immediately directed our gaze at The Ent, who had opened its eyes.
"So you found the elves" said The Ent, sending me a smile that made the burned bark crack.
"Do you remember what happened?" I asked anxiously.
"I clearly remember that I was set on fire, and that it was skeletons carrying the torches."
"I’m aware that a necromancer was behind this, as well as burning down Farmerville.."
The Ent looked questioningly at me "Burning down?"
"Yes, most of Farmerville was burned down after the attack" I replied.
The Ent stared away from me. "Oh.. Then I assume there were.. no survivors?"
I shook my head. True there was Thorgny and the resurrected, but none of them knew anything about what had happened to either my parents or Vilingu. "My parents' cottage wasn’t located far from here. So was Vilingu Castle. Maybe you've heard what happened to them? Try to remember.." I begged.
"Unfortunately I only vaguely remember, but I think I heard a voice ordering Vilingu Castle burned down. I believe it was the same voice that also ordered me burned. Oh yes, I also believe that it was the same person who greatly emphasized that they needed the blacksmith alive. This he repeated a couple times.." said The Ent and sent me a sad look.
"Alive? Then my dad’s alive? What about my mom? Did they say anything about my mom?" I stepped right up to the tree "Did they say anything about my mother? Answer me. Are they both alive?"
"I’m truly sorry, but that's all I remember."
"And Vilingu? He was my master.." I said quietly to myself. On the one hand, I had renewed hope to be reunited with my father, but it felt like both my mother’s and Vilingu’s death certificates had just been signed.
I kept one hand on my mouth without saying anything for several minutes. I tried to think but all thought just stood still. I looked at The Ent. "You didn’t hear any names? The person who was behind this, must have a name.."
The Ent simply looked down at the ground, and thus let me understand that the answer was no. Of course not, I thought.
"It grieves me about your parents Mudgeon, but there's nothing more I can do to help you" Agraynel said and parted with me and the Ent. The Ent was likely to recover, but what about me?
I rode back to my parents' cottage, maybe there was something I had overlooked. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I guess I sincerely hoped to find a clue or anything that could give me just the slightest idea about who was behind my parents' disappearance and where they could have been taken. I went through each room thoroghly, but there were no traces. Everything was burned and blackened. I wasn’t even able to determine whether there had been a struggle, even though it would seem likely there had been. My father certainly would have done what he could to defend them both. I took a deep breath and once again parted with what was left of my birthplace and rode towards Vilingu Castle. Maybe Vilingu had managed to leave a trail. I fervently hoped so.
I stood in the courtyard and looked at what, until a few months ago, had been an old castle. The former apprentice’s hut appeared, oddly enough, no more burnt out than it had the first time I came here. I went to the hut. Strange. There a broken lock hung on the door. The door was still closed. I hadn’t previously noticed that the cabin had been sealed off in that way. I ignored it. If I wanted to know what had happened to Vilingu, his private chamber was probably a better place to start. Maybe I could find something among his notes, provided they hadn’t perished in the fire. I started walking towards the main building, while I was wondering where Vilingu could possibly have hidden notes for me, but my thoughts were interrupted by a voice that said my name. "Mudgeon?" There was something familiar about the voice, but I couldn’t immediately put a face to the voice. I turned around and instantly recognized the person. But the reunion was certainly not as joyful as one could have wished. I resolutely drew my sword.
"Are YOU behind this? What have you done to my parents..?"
" Hello! ..hello.. ...hello.. ...ello.. ...ello.. ..lo.. Loromor!? ..Loromir.. ...lorormir.. ...oromir.. ..oromir.. ...mir.."
It felt as if we had walked for hours and I had not previously been this far inside the cave, when the doubt arose once again. Maybe he wasn’t at home? Maybe we should just come back another day. It was gnawing at me, that my best chance to get certainty about my parents' fate rested with a dragon, which seemed impossible to find. We turned around and walked back towards the cave exit. Suddenly we found ourself staring into a pair of big yellow eyes. It startled me. Slowly Thorgny lifted the torch and could quickly ascertain that the creature which stood before us was a gigantic dragon at least fifteen feet tall. I could not see its tail, but guessed that it had to be at least twentyfive feet long. It was huge.
"Loromir?" I asked gently.
"No one else but me lives in this cave. Who are you and why have you come? Are you dragon hunters?" the dragon asked and sent out a cloud of smoke directly into my head.
"No, we have not come to fight against you. On the contrary, we have come to ask for your help."
"My Help? Whatever for?"
I explained my situation with my parents and how Agraynel now had sent me, in hope that Loromir would assist them in fighting Tonwen and the swamp elves.
Loromir listened with great interest and nodded in recognition at the last part.
"I've heard the story of how Tonwen was banished from the forest, and there can be no doubt that what she did was unforgivable, but I can not see that this fight has anything to do with me. I have lived here alone since I came here when the old world was destroyed. In the old world, we green and gold dragons used to live with the elves, but now I'm the last of my kind and I don’t believe I owe the elves anything. I just want to live in peace and quietness. Alone in my cave" Loromir replied and walked past us, heading deep into the cave.
"Then you’re not going to help us?" I asked desperately.
"Why should I?" replied Loromir. "It's not my fight."
Thorgny stepped in front of the dragon. "Hey, just listen okay. We’ve both lost our families during the attack. I know for sure that my parents are dead, but my friend here does not know what happened to his parents. He still has a chance to find them, but he needs the help of the elves, but they won’t help until the swamp elves are no longer a threat to them.."
"It grieves me to hear about your families, but I can not help you" Loromir replied and walked around Thorgny.
Thorgny hurried to run in front Loromir and stopped him again.
"Less than a week ago, I was attacked by a wolf. One of her.., Tonwen's wolves. The elves saved my life. I have nothing to return to, no family, nothing to live for, so I might as well help them in their struggle. What do you have to live for? Will you just die grumpy and lonely, without having accomplished anything? I'm going to spend my life on something sensible. What will you spend your life on? Living alone in this here cave and reject anyone who might ask for your help?"
"You doesn’t give up that easy, huh? I can sense that I won’t get peace from you before you get your will. Hmmm .. You know what, I'm actually a little bit hungry and I don’t think clearly on an empty stomach. If you could find me some food, I shall reconsider my decision."
Thorgny and I looked at each other with smiles. "Well, obviously we will do so" I replied. "But, uh, what does a dragon eat?"
"Children and little people are my favorites. Bring me twenty children, I'm starving, I tell you."
I stood silenced. Thorgny was not quite as skeptical as me. I think he would be willing to go far, but that was too much for me.
"You can not be serious? You expect us to bring you twenty kids that you can eat?" I said with a deep disgust in my voice.
"No, I'm only joking. Five deer or cows should do it."
I stood behind a tree and drew my bow. A whole bunch of deer grazed in the area around me. Loromir had insisted that Thorgny stayed and entertained him. Apparently there was something about Thorgny he liked. What it was, I had trouble seeing. Although I really enjoyed having him as a companion, and sincerely had been worried if he would’ve survived, I didn’t particularly like Thorgny’s personality. His rudeness and disrespect. Perhaps his company was only preferable measured against the loneliness of travelling alone. I let the thoughts out of my mind and concentrated on my aim.
An elf quietly came up to me. "Aren’t you Agraynel’s friend?" he whispered.
I nodded while I maintained my focus.
I could sense that he nodded. "Is that venison you're after?"
I nodded again, and tensed my bow as much as I could, ready to release my arrow.
A combination of shock and disgust spread in his face, before he placed his hand on my arm and lowered it by force.
I looked wonderingly at him. "But .."
"Under the wood elves summarized Rules for Conservation of Nature paragraph, 12:73; There shall be no poaching..."
"I just wanted to.... " I tried.
"...of wildlife in forest areas. All perpetrators..."
"I just need ..."
"... of this act shall be punished according to ..."
"If you’d just let me explain!"
"...fifteen flicks on the forehead."
With that he "punished" me. "Owww!" I exclaimed, and held a hand against my forehead. "May I not be allowed to explain myself?"
The elf lifted his head up high. "I can not see what there is to explain. You would be poaching. You have abused our trust for private gain."
"Now, that’s not entirely true.."
"Well, is it not? I recall you said youself, that you were looking for venison" he said with a very certain look.
"Yeah, but it's not for myself.."
"No, poaching rarely is."
"Now if you’d just allow me to explain.."
"Well, I’m eagerly awaiting. How much time do you need, to come up with a good explanation? Five minutes? Ten minutes?" I could hear by the tone in his voice, that he became more and more irritated.
"They are for Loromir.." I said, while rubbing my forehead.
"For Loromir? The dragon?"
I nodded. "Agraynel asked me to try to persuade Loromir to assist you in the fight against Tonwen and.."
"Loromir requested five deer to agree?" he asked with a smile.
"Well, he would at least further consider it, after he had eaten."
"You should have said so from the start. Then we could have avoided this little misunderstanding. I'll help you" said the elf and went over and cut the throats of all five deer. "Would you like me to help draging them to his cave?" asked the elf in a friendly voice as he tied their legs together.
"Yes, very much" I replied.
Along with the elf, I dragged the five deer to Loromir's cave. The elf left me in front of the cave with the five dead deer. I went in to tell Loromir that his food was ready ouside of the cave. He took the five deer in his mouth and went back into the cave to eat in peace. I was curious to hear how the two had spent the past hours. From the way Thorgny walked and smiled, it seemed as if they had gotten to know each other quite well, so I asked Thorgny what they had done while I was gone.
"We just talked a little. Stories. Not so much actually" Thorgny replied and shrugged his shoulders. He seemed a little tight-lipped. As if he was putting himself a little distance to me.
"Do you know if he will help us, then?" I asked expectantly.
Thorgny sat down on a rock and rooted around in the soil with his one foot. "Well, that hasn’t exactly been what we've talked about. Maybe."
I sat down on another rock next to Thorgny and tried to get him to talk. "Okay. Well, it seems as if you’ve had a good time, in company with Loromir."
Thorgny shrugged slightly on his shoulders without looking at me. "I might have, I suppose."
Suddenly a loud roar sounded from inside the cave. Thorgny rushed in there with me right behind.
"What has happened?" I asked when I saw Thorgny standing together with the dragon. Thorgny stood with his whole upper body inside the mouth of the dragon.
"I think he has a thigh bone stuck between the rear teeth. I can not get it out. We need a special toothpick that won’t break against his hard teeth. Poor Loro."
"A giant toothpick? Can’t we try with a long branch or perhaps an arrow?" I suggested.
Thorgny shook his head while Loromir loudly complained. "I don’t think a branch is strong enough. And an arrow is certainly not big enough. We might try using a lance or other long thin object that could get in between his back teeth and pry the bone free."
Thorgny came to meet me. "It’s about time. Now we can finally get that rotten bone out of there."
Thorgny was strugling to get the bone out of Loromirs mouth. But judging from Loromirs facial expressions, it wasn’t entirely painless. But after a few minutes of struggle, Thorgny managed to get the bone out. Loromir was relieved.
"Thank you my friend" Loromir said to Thorgny. "I believe I owe you a favour on top of this."
I found it hard not to feel slighted. After all it was I who had delivered the five deer and the halberd which Thorgny had used as a toothpick.
Loromir looked down at me. "I have good news for you. I've decided that I am willing to help you."
I had trouble keeping my smile back.
"..but I have certain terms. Before heading into battle for the elves, I wanna assure my own life. Unfortunately I can no longer put my trust in the wood elves to do everything they can, in order to keep me alive. I fear that they are of the opinion that a giant like me can take care of myself. But I'm no longer young, and I'm probably a little out of touch with my combat abilities, so I want my own personal bodyguards. "
"I will talk to Agraynel. I’m sure your terms won’t be a problem" I replied.
"You’re not quite following me. I want my own personal bodyguards, whom I will train myself, but it should not be elves. Go to the nearest village and see if you can recruit ten brave men. It has always been a special honor to be trained by a dragon, so it shouldn’t be a problem finding volunteers."
I looked at Thorgny and waited for him to go with me. "Aren’t you coming along?" I asked.
"No, I’ve made a deal with Loromir, that he will train me so I can become one of his bodyguards" he replied with a certain amount of pride.
I nodded without saying a word.
When I arrived with the ten brave men, Loromir was quick to come and greet me. Thorgny was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, are those the ten brave men, who want the honor of being my personal bodyguards?" asked Loromir and glanced at the ten men.
I nodded. They didn't look like much. The brave men, that is. By far, most of them were former peasants who until recently, voluntarily had acted as guards in Faeries Crossing. How much experience they actually possesed, I didn’t know. But what could you expect from a bunch of volunteers, whose only merit would be the honor?
"When will you be ready for battle?" I asked, thinking of the time that had passed since I left Mr. Beech and Farmerville.
"Come back in a few days" said Loromir and led the men into the cave.
I rode back to Rocky Springs, where I knew Agraynel was to be found.
She welcomed me. "How is the persuasion of Loromir going?" she asked as we walked through the town.
"He has agreed, on term that he gets ten personal bodyguards.."
"No problem" Agraynel smiled. "I'll see to it that ten of our best warriors will guard him with their lives."
"Well, you see.." I said adding a little length to each word. "That is roughly the same answer I gave him, but he insisted that he would train them himself. And therefore no elves should protect him."
Agraynel stopped momentarily and looked up toward the tall trees. "So he doesn’t have full confidence in us" she murmured to herself, before we went on.
"But not to worry, before I rode here, I delivered him ten brave men. He believed they would be ready in a few days" I said with a big smile.
Agraynel put a hand on my shoulder and smiled gently. "Very well. I am deeply grateful, Mudgeon. For the help you have given us. And I promise that I will help you when the time is right. But tell me.. What reason does Loromir have to help us, if he doesn’t expect anything in return? "
"He said that what Tonwen had done was unforgivable, but it wasn’t his fight. Fortunately, it seems that Thorgny apparently can be quite persuasive" I replied with a half smile. I missed his company.
"Is he with Loromir?" Agraynel asked.
I looked longingly into the air and nodded. "Loromir has promised to train him. He’s going to be one of his bodyguards."
Agraynel looked at me with a pitying look that indicated that it was easy for her to see that I missed him. I broke the silence. "What was it really that Tonwen did, that was so unforgivable? And why this fight? Your kinds are related."
"When we first came to this new world, there were some heated discussions about whether we should still have a senior citizens' council, or if we should just have one leader. Elven societies are built up in a way so that all families have one member, the oldest member of the family, seated in what we call the Elders. But Tonwen came here alone. Her family was killed many years ago, during an attack led by orcs and goblins. Tonwen had long tried to get a seat in the Elders, but despite the fact that she was the only one left in her family, the council said that she was too young. She therefore insisted that the time had come for another form of governance. This world and this land were unknown to us, and she believed that we could no longer continue protecting nature in the same peaceful way we did in the old world. We had to protect ourselves, our breed and create a home for ourselves. And this would mean that we would have to make some decisions which previously would not have been accepted among our people. Tonwen on the other hand, was ready to take these decisions and lead our people to new times of greatness. She was a very clever druid and partly because of her magical abilities, she suggested that she should be appointed highpriestess, thus leading the wood peoples. The majority of our people, however, had a different opinion and still wanted the Elders to make decisions on behalf of our people. But what caused her banishment to the swamps, was when she sacrificed a whole litter of white tiger cubs, in order to sew armour of their skins for her boyfriend, Taneru. White tigers are sacred animals to us, but Tonwen believed that she could create powerful magic armour and helmets from their skin, and believed that she was with in her rights to sacrifice them for the benefit of our people. However she was surprised by the mother, who managed to give her some distinctive scars on her face, before Tonwen killed her too. When the Elders saw Taneru wearing the skin of white tigers, they were both banished. But not before Tonwen swore her revenge. Unfortunately, it turned out that they had a small group of supporters, who followed them into the swamp."
Our conversation was interrupted by an elf that had just landed with a griffin, a few meters from us. "Agraynel, our scouts have just reported, that they have seen Tonwens troops in the area. They have left the swamp" he said breathlessly.
"Do the Elders, know this?" Agraynel asked.
"Not yet. But I was on my way" he replied.
"We must gather people in the cities. It is no longer safe to walk in the woods alone." Agraynel looked at me. "Stay here in the Rocky Springs for a few days. When Loromir is ready, head for Oak Creek. I'll meet you there."
While Agraynel and a small group flew off to Oak Creek, I stayed in Rocky Springs. Three days went by, without anyone in town hearing news about Tonwens troops. I didn’t hear from Agraynel either. As there hadn’t been news of increased danger, I decided to leave town to see how Loromir was doing with the training.
It was a sad and slightly embarrassed Loromir I met outside his cave.
"How's the training going?" I asked expectantly.
Loromir tried to evade my question, but then he confessed. "The training has gone well, but we had a minor accident yesterday."
"An accident?"
"Yes, we were in the middle of training when I got a cough, during a demonstration."
Loromir held a long pause, so I pressed on, in order to know what had happened. "And then..?"
"Uh, and then some of my students they.. ehm.. shall we say, evaporated .."
"Evaporated?" I exclaimed.
Loromir tried to ease my concern. "But only a few of them. But uh.. Well, the rest kinda fled in fear.."
"And Thorgny?"
"No, he didn’t flee. But I need ten new men" Loromir said with an embarrassed look on his face.
I looked up at Loromir’s big face in discouragement. "Another ten men?"
"Okay, let's say nine. I've already got Thorgny. But perhaps you should find some who possess a little more courage than the first ones did."
"Courage?" I muttered to myself as I walked out of the cave. Courage might prevent you from fleeing in fear, but it was hardly of much help against a dragon’s all-consuming firebreath.
"Ah, I see that you have returned. And you have brought some fine soldiers for me." Loromir smiled at the sight of me and the men in armor. "We shall begin their training immediatly."
I sighed a little to myself. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to train them. This time I stayed near the cave. I felt that I had already wasted enough time, so the instant Loromir was ready to go into battle, I would know it right away.
A larger group of svampelves rapidly came toward us, while swinging their swords wildly around them. Several of them whirled around themself with outstretched arms. They moved with such speed that they were difficult for archers to hit. Their torsos were covered with strange signs and markings, presumably magical symbols which were intended to protect them.
"Avoid melee combat with them Mudgeon" Agraynel yelled at me. "They are so-called war dancers. Masters of sword fighting. They are very fast and often strikes several blows, before their opponent even manage to react."
Thanks for the warning I thought to myself, before I first handed watched as a small group of Sprites, got showered by a barrage of hits from one of these fearsome warriors.
A large part of our entourage had lost the battle against Taneru and his troops. I assured myself that Agraynel was still alive. As was Loromir, I could see. But Thorgny had fallen in battle. He had been hit by several arrows with great force, which had pierced through his body. I had seen how Taneru had stretched his mighty bow, and sent an arrow through Thorgnys chest before he had been overpowered. Together with Agraynel I went over to Taneru's corpse. I looked at his bloody tigerskin clothings, before I wrenched his bow from his dead hands. Agraynel took the white tiger armor and his headgear, which was made of a tiger's head. The power these garments possessed was too powerful to simply leave behind.
Autumn was upon us, when we finally were on our way back to Farmerville. On the way, we passed a small farmhouse where a young man frantically ran around between some trees while waving his arms.
"No, no, no! It's terrible! Look!" he pointed. "The leaves are falling off. It's terrible! No, no, no, no, no! The leaves fall off the trees! Do something!" He pursued a horse carriage which passed by. "Help, stop! The leaves are falling off the trees! Do something!"
We stood and looked with amazement at his behaviour as a middle-aged man suddenly approached Agraynel.
"Tell me, are you not one of them thar elves?" he asked.
"Yes, I am" Agraynel answered.
The man pointed at Agraynel. "Then infact it's your responsibility that the leaves fall off. It happened last year, and also the year before and in ’99. Matter of fact, it's happened the past 14 years. Except in the ‘98
A window at the house stood open. The wife stuck out her head and shouted something to the man. "I’m now told that it also happened in ’98. It happens every year. It has happened every year, ever. Why don’t you do something about it? "The man asked accusingly.
Agraynel looked wonderingly at the man before she answered." You can’t do anything about it."
"Well, you’ll have to do something about it" the man went on." Does somebody have to die before a corpse is put on the table? How can this happen?"
Agraynel tilted her head slightly. "That’s a long technical explanation, but what in short sense happens in the leaves, is that the sunlight through glorofyl converts carbon dioxide and water in the photosynthesis to sugar substances. And then there is some evaporation in the leaves as well, so there is a lot of water that needs to be transported from the roots. In winter, if the weather is freezing, then they simply can’t retrieve all the water from the ground, so in order to survive, they simply drop the leaves."
"Yes. You know what young lady, that there, right? That’s judgement of taste of the worst kind. You're such an expert who believes that just because you are an expert of something, then you are an expert of something. So, you've read a lot of books, and then you come and beat us ordinary people with your knowledge about trees "said the man and waved his arms in a silly way."I know a lot about trees. I know much more about trees than you do "he said in a tone that suggested that he was imitating Agraynel."Well you don’t. Arbiter of taste! Ptff! Yuck! You know what?! The leaves fall off the trees in the winter because.." he continued in the same ridiculing voice.
"You know what, this.." said Agraynel and looked resignedly at me.
"..it gets summer and winter and fall, everyone bloody knows that" said the man angrily and stomped on the ground a little.
"..This I’m not gonna put up with. You can forget about it.." Agraynel said and began to walk away with heavy steps. I looked with great amazement back and forth between the man and Agraynel a few times before I soon followed Agraynel.
"You know what?" cried the man. "I shall ask you to leave! Right now!"
"Well, goodbye" Agraynel simply replied without looking back.
"Leave! Come back! You’re running from your responsibility!"
"Damala?"
Agraynel stood as if petrified. Her friend, she had helped bury only weeks earlier, now stood before us. Her face had turned a cold lifeless color. She stared back at us with a blank look. She had suffered the same fate as the residents here in Farmerville.
"Damala?" Agraynel repeated while she looked at me with despair in her eyes. "But how..?"
"That's what I’ve been trying to tell you. I learned that the drinking water in the region had been poisoned, and when you told me that Damala had died, I feared that she would be resurrected. I tried to tell you, but every time I got interrupted.."
Agraynel simply gazed blankly at me with eyes full of despair. Suddenly Morrex came shambling towards us with heavy steps. Agraynel drew her sword and turned to Morrex.
"It’s useless Agraynel. There is a curse on the village. They will just be brought back to life again. We must find a way to dispel the spell, otherwise.."
My attempt to explain my previous episode with Morrex was interrupted by a flick of rotten body fluids that hit my face. Agraynel had swung her sword and cut the throat of Morrex, who now stood swaying for a moment before he fell.
Agraynel took a deep breath and wiped a tear from her cheek before she drove her sword through the belly of Damala. As she stood leaning over Damala's corpse, she recited what I suppose was the elven spell to lift necromancy. None of them stood up again.
I buried Morrex while Agraynel buried Damala. She found a stick, which she used to write on Damalas grave.
"What did you write?" I asked.
"Kukaan ei ansaitsee Tulla haudatuksi kahdesti - No one deserves to be buried twice" Agraynel replied and proceeded towards the village.
Hubert and his wife were in the ramshackle hut, along with the man who had lived here. Ezsebeth still watched over her corpse, scaring crows away. I handed Hubert's wife, the missing bones.
"They fit well enough, although they are slightly gnawed" she said as she pieced him together. "..Hey a rib has fallen off" he noted, once he was back on his feet. "But who needs all of his ribs anyway? They're just for decoration."
I stood in the doorway and looked at Agraynel. We nodded to each other before I started to perform the exorcism. I carefully read aloud from the scroll, but despite loud screams of agony from the dead villagers, it didn’t appear to have much effect. I went outside to Agraynel.
"Did it work?" she asked.
I shook my head. "No. It caused them nothing but pain."
Agraynel closed her eyes and began to recite an incantation. She repeated it over and over again. I walked around the hut, to the place where Ezsebeth had watched over her earthly remains. She wasn’t there. Only her badly decomposed body could be seen. I called her a few times but got no answer. I went back to the cottage. Agraynel came out with a crafty smile.
"They've found peace" she said quietly and walked over to her horse. "Now show me to the Ent. Hopefully its spirit is not too weakened."
I stood and looked at the dead tree. There were still facial features to be seen in the burned bark. But that was what revealed that this was not just an ordinary wood. But an Ent. Or what had been an Ent. I looked over at Agraynel with a despairing look. "Is there anything you can do? I mean is there any hope that I could find out what really happened?"
Agraynel shrugged and pursed her lips while she walked around the tree and felt it with her hands. It was almost as if she was looking for something specific.
"The optimistic would probably say that there is always hope" she replied cryptically. Then she began to dig into the ground with her hands.
I looked at her in wonder. "What are you doing?"
She stopped digging and looked up at me. "What do you see?" she asked, pointing at the place she had dug under the tree.
"I don’t know" I sighed resignedly, without the faintest idea what it was she wanted me to see. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Dirt? Roots?"
She smiled and nodded "The Ents roots."
"Yes, but what does it mean? It's hardly a surprise to anyone that an Ent has roots. All trees have."
"Look at the roots, Mudgeon."
I stepped a little closer. "They still look fresh" I replied softly with a wrinkled brow. I didn’t yet fully understand the importance of this.
"It means that there is hope" she smiled. "Normally, the roots of a burned-out tree would be dried out by now, months later, but this could indicate that there is still a bit of life in The Ent. Give me your hand" she said and placed her other hand on the tree. I did the same. She began to recite an incantation. It wasn’t long before I started getting a strange feeling in my body. It was quite uncomfortable. As if she was draining me of energy. I slowly began feeling more and more dizzy. I had to sit down.
Agraynel looked down at me. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I nodded quietly. "Yes, I think so. I just got a little dizzy."
"Oh, sorry about that, but I thought you knew. But a healing may well affect you like that" Agraynel giggled.
"It's okay" I replied and remained sitting with my head between my legs. "Did it work?"
Seconds after there was a life-affirming gasp from the Ent. We both immediately directed our gaze at The Ent, who had opened its eyes.
"So you found the elves" said The Ent, sending me a smile that made the burned bark crack.
"Do you remember what happened?" I asked anxiously.
"I clearly remember that I was set on fire, and that it was skeletons carrying the torches."
"I’m aware that a necromancer was behind this, as well as burning down Farmerville.."
The Ent looked questioningly at me "Burning down?"
"Yes, most of Farmerville was burned down after the attack" I replied.
The Ent stared away from me. "Oh.. Then I assume there were.. no survivors?"
I shook my head. True there was Thorgny and the resurrected, but none of them knew anything about what had happened to either my parents or Vilingu. "My parents' cottage wasn’t located far from here. So was Vilingu Castle. Maybe you've heard what happened to them? Try to remember.." I begged.
"Unfortunately I only vaguely remember, but I think I heard a voice ordering Vilingu Castle burned down. I believe it was the same voice that also ordered me burned. Oh yes, I also believe that it was the same person who greatly emphasized that they needed the blacksmith alive. This he repeated a couple times.." said The Ent and sent me a sad look.
"Alive? Then my dad’s alive? What about my mom? Did they say anything about my mom?" I stepped right up to the tree "Did they say anything about my mother? Answer me. Are they both alive?"
"I’m truly sorry, but that's all I remember."
"And Vilingu? He was my master.." I said quietly to myself. On the one hand, I had renewed hope to be reunited with my father, but it felt like both my mother’s and Vilingu’s death certificates had just been signed.
I kept one hand on my mouth without saying anything for several minutes. I tried to think but all thought just stood still. I looked at The Ent. "You didn’t hear any names? The person who was behind this, must have a name.."
The Ent simply looked down at the ground, and thus let me understand that the answer was no. Of course not, I thought.
"It grieves me about your parents Mudgeon, but there's nothing more I can do to help you" Agraynel said and parted with me and the Ent. The Ent was likely to recover, but what about me?
I rode back to my parents' cottage, maybe there was something I had overlooked. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I guess I sincerely hoped to find a clue or anything that could give me just the slightest idea about who was behind my parents' disappearance and where they could have been taken. I went through each room thoroghly, but there were no traces. Everything was burned and blackened. I wasn’t even able to determine whether there had been a struggle, even though it would seem likely there had been. My father certainly would have done what he could to defend them both. I took a deep breath and once again parted with what was left of my birthplace and rode towards Vilingu Castle. Maybe Vilingu had managed to leave a trail. I fervently hoped so.
I stood in the courtyard and looked at what, until a few months ago, had been an old castle. The former apprentice’s hut appeared, oddly enough, no more burnt out than it had the first time I came here. I went to the hut. Strange. There a broken lock hung on the door. The door was still closed. I hadn’t previously noticed that the cabin had been sealed off in that way. I ignored it. If I wanted to know what had happened to Vilingu, his private chamber was probably a better place to start. Maybe I could find something among his notes, provided they hadn’t perished in the fire. I started walking towards the main building, while I was wondering where Vilingu could possibly have hidden notes for me, but my thoughts were interrupted by a voice that said my name. "Mudgeon?" There was something familiar about the voice, but I couldn’t immediately put a face to the voice. I turned around and instantly recognized the person. But the reunion was certainly not as joyful as one could have wished. I resolutely drew my sword.
"Are YOU behind this? What have you done to my parents..?"
Last edited by Anonymous on 10 Nov 2013, 22:56, edited 2 times in total.
hey Duzeom.
Currently I'm still working on map 9 - it's been standing still for about a month, but in the meanwhile map 4 has had alot of fixes after several tests and map 5 are being tested at the moment aswell. Map 8 has also been beta tested since last update. There's still a long way for the longest campaign ever
But please use this other tread viewtopic.php?t=13918 for comments ect. I will post a screenshot from map 9 in the near future. And hopefully update this story-tread with more screenshots and chapter 5 aswell. Update june 3rd. Screenshots added to the story.
Currently I'm still working on map 9 - it's been standing still for about a month, but in the meanwhile map 4 has had alot of fixes after several tests and map 5 are being tested at the moment aswell. Map 8 has also been beta tested since last update. There's still a long way for the longest campaign ever
But please use this other tread viewtopic.php?t=13918 for comments ect. I will post a screenshot from map 9 in the near future. And hopefully update this story-tread with more screenshots and chapter 5 aswell. Update june 3rd. Screenshots added to the story.
Last edited by Anonymous on 03 Jun 2013, 21:46, edited 1 time in total.
I've added an encountered text to Townen: (and one more text is planned to be added as well)
Edit: new text's added
As we marched through the swamp, we suddenly found ourself being ambushed. Arrows flew around our heads, yet no enemies could be spotted. We were sitting ducks, with nowhere to hide. Several of Agraynel's kindsmen had allready fallen before the shooters were located, hiding in the tree tops. Clearly they had the advantage against us. Our defenses were weakened and it was difficult for us, to even attempt to shoot back at them.
A dryad appeared in front of us, taking shape in a small tree. The bark soon transformed into a face and the dryads womanly figure began to appear in the tree trunk. Unlike the previous dryads I had seen, this one was remarkably feminine and quite beautiful, like a young woman. It was as if her body and head were glued to the trunk, except being one unit. I guess these dryads have no actual form themself and can only speak when appearing in something. Her long branched fingers reached out for Agraynel as she began to speak. I didn't understand a word of the strange language it spoke, but Agraynel gave me a summary.
"My child.. the Elders have sent me to inform you that the city of Half Oak was attacked yesterday."
"By Tonwen's troops I presume" Agraynel said with sorrow in her voice.
"Not exactly. They were attacked by forest creatures.."
Agraynel shook her head in despair. "Forest creature? But they would never attack us.. It can't be. I don't understand.."
"Lately we've felt an disturbance in these woods. Animals have begun acting strange and we fear that Tonwen's powers might be growing. Some of her followers has taken control of the city, but they didn't participate during the attack. But clearly Tonwen was behind this. The Elders urge you to put an end to her crimes against nature, my child."
Agraynel nodded to herself as she clutched her staff. "I will.. I will.." The womanly figure vanished into the trunk of the tree.
"Should we turn back and aid them?" I asked.
Agraynel shook her head as she sighed deeply. "There's no time. We can't turn back now. We have to stop Tonwen. The sooner the better. I fear she might launch more of these attacks, if we don't hurry."
We stod in front of the swamp elven fortress known as Verag-Nar. "Tonwen, stop hiding like a coward and come out and face me!" Agraynel shouted.
"Oh, Agraynel?" Tonwen started laughing. "Ofcourse the Elder Counsil have send you. Their precious little gem stone. You know, you owe it all to your grandfather, right? If not for him, things might have been different."
"I've worked hard to get to where I am" Agraynel replied.
Townen bursted out in a mocking laugh "Ha! I was one of the greatest druids in our community, yet I never came close to your status. I'd had nothing to say.."
"You very well know the rules of the Elder Council. They cannot be bended" Agraynel said in a firm voice.
"Can't you see that their rules are contradictory? Each family is entitled to be represented in the council, yet I was too young. I lost my entire family during the reckoning. How was I to be represented?!"
"Is that why you decided to slaughter a litter of white tigers cubs? Because you were angry with the Elders?"
Tonwen put her head slightly tilted "Aw, you little softie. You're just as big a hypocrite as the rest of your kind. You despise orc's for cutting down tree's, yet you can cut off as many branches as you need for making bows. It's okay for you to kill a deer, but I get banished for killing white tiger cubs.. Where's the sense in that?"
Agraynel was clearly outraged by Tonwens point of view. "That's beyond comparison and you know it! White tigers are sacred animals. You commited a horrible crime against Nature, and that's why you were banished."
Townen stomped the ground. "Why is it, you insist on clinging on to the old ways of living? Nothing is sacred anymore! This ain't Enroth! We're no longer in AvLee. It's a different world, different rules. The dwarves realized that and left our kind. Even the centaurs got fed up with this way of living. They knew they had to fight for their survival. Really it's quite simple, Agraynel. Either you adapt or you die. We were banished to these swamps and we learned to live here. We have even adapted to the lack of sunlight in these caves. But the Elders have persistently refused to adapt, so.. your kind will become extinct.."
Agraynels expression showed that none of Tonwens arguments had made much impression on her. "Perhaps our kind will become extinct, but it won't be by your hand, Tonwen."
Edit: new text's added
As we marched through the swamp, we suddenly found ourself being ambushed. Arrows flew around our heads, yet no enemies could be spotted. We were sitting ducks, with nowhere to hide. Several of Agraynel's kindsmen had allready fallen before the shooters were located, hiding in the tree tops. Clearly they had the advantage against us. Our defenses were weakened and it was difficult for us, to even attempt to shoot back at them.
A dryad appeared in front of us, taking shape in a small tree. The bark soon transformed into a face and the dryads womanly figure began to appear in the tree trunk. Unlike the previous dryads I had seen, this one was remarkably feminine and quite beautiful, like a young woman. It was as if her body and head were glued to the trunk, except being one unit. I guess these dryads have no actual form themself and can only speak when appearing in something. Her long branched fingers reached out for Agraynel as she began to speak. I didn't understand a word of the strange language it spoke, but Agraynel gave me a summary.
"My child.. the Elders have sent me to inform you that the city of Half Oak was attacked yesterday."
"By Tonwen's troops I presume" Agraynel said with sorrow in her voice.
"Not exactly. They were attacked by forest creatures.."
Agraynel shook her head in despair. "Forest creature? But they would never attack us.. It can't be. I don't understand.."
"Lately we've felt an disturbance in these woods. Animals have begun acting strange and we fear that Tonwen's powers might be growing. Some of her followers has taken control of the city, but they didn't participate during the attack. But clearly Tonwen was behind this. The Elders urge you to put an end to her crimes against nature, my child."
Agraynel nodded to herself as she clutched her staff. "I will.. I will.." The womanly figure vanished into the trunk of the tree.
"Should we turn back and aid them?" I asked.
Agraynel shook her head as she sighed deeply. "There's no time. We can't turn back now. We have to stop Tonwen. The sooner the better. I fear she might launch more of these attacks, if we don't hurry."
We stod in front of the swamp elven fortress known as Verag-Nar. "Tonwen, stop hiding like a coward and come out and face me!" Agraynel shouted.
"Oh, Agraynel?" Tonwen started laughing. "Ofcourse the Elder Counsil have send you. Their precious little gem stone. You know, you owe it all to your grandfather, right? If not for him, things might have been different."
"I've worked hard to get to where I am" Agraynel replied.
Townen bursted out in a mocking laugh "Ha! I was one of the greatest druids in our community, yet I never came close to your status. I'd had nothing to say.."
"You very well know the rules of the Elder Council. They cannot be bended" Agraynel said in a firm voice.
"Can't you see that their rules are contradictory? Each family is entitled to be represented in the council, yet I was too young. I lost my entire family during the reckoning. How was I to be represented?!"
"Is that why you decided to slaughter a litter of white tigers cubs? Because you were angry with the Elders?"
Tonwen put her head slightly tilted "Aw, you little softie. You're just as big a hypocrite as the rest of your kind. You despise orc's for cutting down tree's, yet you can cut off as many branches as you need for making bows. It's okay for you to kill a deer, but I get banished for killing white tiger cubs.. Where's the sense in that?"
Agraynel was clearly outraged by Tonwens point of view. "That's beyond comparison and you know it! White tigers are sacred animals. You commited a horrible crime against Nature, and that's why you were banished."
Townen stomped the ground. "Why is it, you insist on clinging on to the old ways of living? Nothing is sacred anymore! This ain't Enroth! We're no longer in AvLee. It's a different world, different rules. The dwarves realized that and left our kind. Even the centaurs got fed up with this way of living. They knew they had to fight for their survival. Really it's quite simple, Agraynel. Either you adapt or you die. We were banished to these swamps and we learned to live here. We have even adapted to the lack of sunlight in these caves. But the Elders have persistently refused to adapt, so.. your kind will become extinct.."
Agraynels expression showed that none of Tonwens arguments had made much impression on her. "Perhaps our kind will become extinct, but it won't be by your hand, Tonwen."
Last edited by Anonymous on 02 Sep 2013, 20:40, edited 2 times in total.
I'm silent in seven languages - and I got all my familys fear.
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
Chapter 5 - Friend Or Foe
Prologue:
In order to conquer one must, in time, make some difficult choices. Few rulers have reigned long without support from other nations. People being betrayed, new and liberal alliances are formed and enemies overcome. All to maintain its position or take someone else's. For Baron Von Tarkin, the question now is whether you are a Friend Or Foe.
Map description:
Shortly after Bakrus had poisoned the drinking water throughout the region of The Wheel, Baron Von Tarkin had left all of the cities deserted. No one was left alive. With his rapidly growing army, Baron Von Tarkin has now decided to go for the capital of Channon, Rylos. But before he begins his campaign, he has demanded that all the undead in the wasteland of Korresan, acknowledges him as their king and place themselves and their troops at his disposal.
The Story:
As promised, Baron Von Tarkin had offered Moorgué eternal life as an undead. Now he only needed to choose how he would live for the rest of his days. He was given the choice of being transformed into either a vampire, skeleton, zombie or ghost. If he chose one of these, he would be reborn as a strong undead with new abilities. He could also choose to let death magic slowly devour his body and proceed as a necromancer. Thus he would avoid the uncontrollable craving for blood or that his body would decay.
Moorgué had allready made his choice..
Moorgué had flashbacks of his last minutes, as a living human. Tarkin had come to fulfil his part of their agreement. Moorgué had chosen to be immortalized as a ghost. A choice Tarkin was quite happy about. Although his gratification probably arose from the fact, that he got to see Moorgué die. And of course wake him back to life under his command.
Prior to his transformation, Moorgué however had predicted that Tarkin hardly would let him keep his own will, so before the agreement was settled, Moorgué had cast a spell that would prevent Tarkin from gaining control over his mind. Tarkin was certainly not pleased, when he learned that Moorgué was not bound to him, as the rest of his troops. But although Moorgué was not bound to him by magic, he still thought of Tarkin as his lord. At least for now.
Immediately after Moorgué made his choice, Tarkin ordered two skeletons to hold him. Tarkin drew his sword and cut the throat of Moorgué. The feeling of life leaving his body was extremely uncomfortable, but fortunately only lasted briefly. Moorgué were stripped and thrown into a fire. Tarkin cast a spell that bound Moorgué's soul to this world and slowly his spirit took form. Tarkin handed him a sword, which he grabbed hold of. He could feel the cold steel in his hand, but that was also the only thing he could feel. He no longer felt anything. It was a strange feeling.
Moorgué awoke deep indside the Mausoleum
Moorgué having left the Mausoleum
Baron Von Tarkin had killed the former ruler of Korresan, Maximillian Devlos and now demanded to get the region's war-lord's terms, in order for them to surrender their armies to him and acknowledge him as their ruler. He had also aired his idea of overthrowing Rylos, and expected their immediate support. Once Rylos lay before Tarkin's feet, he could begin to exterminate all life.
The vampire Clan, the Von Carsteins, flatly refused both to recognize Tarkin as their ruler and also to support him in his plan to conquer Rylos. "Its words of a madman, we are witnessing" they replied. A response that quite clearly revealed, that they indirect feared that the source of their own survival, mankind would disappear. Typical of vampires to let their bloodlust cloud all rational thinking.
Count Rigor had required to recieve a larger sum of money and conditioned that they would keep a small army. Just as safety, in case of war or attacks from neighbouring nations. How could Baron Von Tarkin interpret their demands as nothing more than an insult to his offer to let them join his army.
The last warlord had not responded. However, Baron Von Tarkin knew that it was Kreegan demons, who possessed the last part of the region.
None of them had expressed any desire to meet Tarkin's requirements, so they left him with no choice. He had to take his position as ruler of Korresan by force. A shame, since Tarkin wanted to fight the religious fools from Channon, rather than his own kind.
Moorgué could still remember his last time as a living person. It was now many months ago, that he had made the agreement with Baron Von Tarkin, to be transformed into an undead creature of his own choice. However, Moorgué had to complete a few tasks for Tarkin first. The last task, to poison the drinking water in all towns in the region where Moorgué himself lived, he had paid someone else to do. Such a risky job, he saw no reason to carry out himself. Moorgué knew the region quite well and knew where he might be able to find someone who would accept such a task.
The Robber's Hole was the place where people went to have their dirty work done. A man named Bakrus had accepted the job. It later turned out that Bakrus, who had been in the process of performing a necromancers deeds, was a monk. A fact that Moorgué had found both ironic and amusing. After Bakrus had accepted the assignment, Moorgué had ordered a small group of ghosts to constantly keep track of his whereabouts. An assurance that things went as they should. Had Bakrus deviated even the slightest from his task, he would immediately have been given a warning. If necessary, they would have killed him. Thus Moorgué also knew exactly when the task was completed and Bakrus would turn up to collect the rest of his payment. When Moorgué had sensed that Bakrus was about to complete the task, he had reported Bakrus to the authorities.
Now the situation was such, that the region was not part of a nation and therefore had no actual ruler or regent. It was a region consisting of many races and nationalities. And in particular, a haven for criminals. Some cities in the outlaying area of The Wheel, which the region was called, had tried to become a part of emerging nations such as Great Arcane and Palaedra but the borders were already drawn up. And of course, nobody wanted to disturb the peace between the nations, by suddenly expanding the boundary. This was among the reasons, why this region was so obvious a target for Tarkin's plan. But most cities did have some kind of law and order. And usually also someone to enforce their rules. And it was these people of the law, Moorgué had put on the trail of Bakrus as a diversionary tactic of Tarkin's further plan.
Moorgué's brain clung to the memories of the events of recent months. A natural reaction. Many people see their lives pass by just before they die. The reawakened will witness their memories being brought forth, one last time before slowly sliding into oblivion, leaving them without any particular remembrance of their former lives. Such was the case for Moorgué as well.
He remembered how he, together with Baron Von Tarkin, with no problems had snuck into the city, Dursey. The city's defenses were paralyzed by the poisoned drinking water, which Bakrus short time before had been behind. Based on a recipe Baron Von Tarkin had found in his precious book, The Necronomicon, which he had recently come into possession of. A mixture of deadly poison and immortality potion. But not an ordinary immortality potion. No, this was specially designed to make the undead immortal. A variation of the so called Potions of Immortality, called Potion of Undead Immortality. The special thing about this potion was that anyone who drank it, would first die from poisoning, and then become practically immortal once they would be raised as undead.
A fate all residents in Dursey and several other cities came to suffer.
For a little more than a few weeks, Moorgué had followed the developments in Dursey first hand. The number of dead rose steadily day by day. The streets soon began to flow with corpses, so in order to avoid contamination, the dead bodies were collected several times a week. The corpses were then dumped in a mass grave, whose location Baron Von Tarkin was very interested in. The plan was simple and would soon prove to be progressing smoothly.
"Bring out your dad! Bring out your dad!" a man shouted in the outskirt of town.
Behind him a man who pulled a cart, stopped. "Bloody hell, I've been listening to this nonsense in the past cities, but now's enough!" The man in front of him turned around with a confused expression on his face. "It's not their dad's we want them to bring out.."
"It's not?"
"No, it's their dead.."
"Their dead?! Aw, now that's sick!" the man replied, clearly showing his disgust.
"What's sick about it? We are the dead collectors."
The man looked confused. "The debt collectors? But I thought that.."
"What?! That we were the dad collectors?"
"Well, yes.."
The man in front of the cart placed his hands on both sides of his hips, before raising one arm as he continued to speak "Now why one earth would we be collecting dads? Besides, haven't you noticed they're not moving?" he said as he pointed at the people laying in the cart.
The other man shrugged his shoulders "Well, I guess I figured they were dead drunk."
"Dead drunk?!" the man with the cart exclaimed. "Then what? Our job is to drive them around 'till they sobered up?"
His face wore a shameful expression as he tried to explain himself "Well err.. Truthfully told, I haven't really thought that much about it. But yes, something like that I reckon.."
He leaned in over the cart and turned over one of the bodies. "Then how would you explain the women, then?"
The other man went over to the cart and took a real close look at the head of the body in front of him, before he exclaimed, surprised while pointing at the corpse "That's a woman?!"
The man in front of the cart raised his arms to the sky "Our lord on a horse, where ever did they find you..? Listen, just say it right in this here next town, okay?"
The other man nodded and they proceeded onwards.
Moorgué had taken place in one of the city's streets and was now just waiting, with Tarkin hanging over his shoulder, for the day's first dead to be retrieved.
"Bring out your dead!" shouted the man while he repeatedly struck a pot with a wooden spoon. His cries grew louder. He came closer.
"Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"
Clearly sick people were crawling around in the mud and some tried to hide in baskets. An old woman was about to dust off her cat, by slapping it against a wall. Women and children's crying could be heard in the background. People coughed and moaned of illness. All were slowly dying.
Two men pulled a cart with dead behind them, while the one hit a saucepot with a wooden spoon. Moorgué stood and watched as a man was thrown up on the cart.
"Only nine pence" replied the man with the pot, when the corpse had been placed on the cart. "Bring out your dead!"
A tall, lanky man came carrying an old man over his shoulder. "Here's one."
"Only nine pence" replied the man with the pot.
"I'm not dead!" it came from the old man.
The man with the pot looked first at the tall man and then at the old geezer he had over his shoulder. "What?"
"Nothing. Here's your nine pence" said the tall man.
The man on the shoulder complained "I'm not dead!"
The man with the pot looked with great amazement at the tall man. "He says he's not dead."
"Yes he is."
"No!" it sounded distraught from the old.
The man with the pot went round the tall man and looked at the old man's face. "He isn't."
The tall man lashed out with his head. "Well, he will be soon, he's very ill."
"I'm getting better!" said the old man.
The young tall man turned his head. "No, you're not. You'll be stone dead in a moment." he said in a rough tone.
The man with the pot shook his head and waved his arms repellent. "Oh, I can't take him like that, it's against regulations."
"I don't want to go in the cart!" whimpered the old man.
The tall man turned his head towards the old. "Oh, don't be such a baby" he said in a patronizing tone.
The man with the pot still refused. "I can't take him..."
"I feel fine.." said the old man and raised his head.
The tall young man put his head on one side and smiled kindly. "Oh, do us a favor.."
But the man with the pot only shook his head. "I can't."
The tall man scratched himself on the cheek. "Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long."
The man with the pot drew a little corner of the mouth. "Naaah, I got to go on to Robinson's, they've lost nine today."
"Well, when is your next round?" asked the tall lanky man.
"Thursday."
"I think I'll go for a walk" said the old man while he was still hanging from the young man's shoulder.
The young man turned his head. "You're not fooling anyone y'know." Then he looked at the man with the pot. "Look, isn't there something you can do?"
"I feel happy... I feel happy" the old man started to sing.
The man with the pot looked around and then struck the old man in the head with his spoon.
"Ah, thanks very much" said the tall man and threw the old one up on the cart.
"Not at all. See you on Thursday" the man replied and received the nine pence.
"Right" said the young man.
Moorgué was carrying Tarkin, who for the occasion was dressed in old worn brown clothes and a hood over his head, not to attract attention. He threw Tarkin up on the cart, so he lay face down. The man with the cart took hold of his hand.
"Woaw, how long have you had him lying around?" he asked, surprised and held up Tarkin's bony right hand.
"Don't know. He has blocked the toilet all morning" Moorgué replied with a straight face.
"All morning?" he exclaimed with wide eyes. "There is nothing left but bones" he concluded with chock written all over his face.
Moorgué shrugged. "No, but you know how many rats there are."
"True," he nodded.
Moorgué looked at the man with the spoon. "Won't you take him?"
"Why, yes of course. Nine pence" the man replied and put out his hand. "Well, at least there's no risk of contagion" he muttered to himself.
"Excuse me, what?" Moorgué asked.
"Oh, I just concluded, that there is no risk of contagion with him. Since there are only his bones left" the man replied with a wry smile.
"Risk of contagion?" Moorgué asked wonderingly.
"Yes, the black plague you know" the man said, pointing around him.
"The black plague" Moorgué nodded. How fortunate that they just suspected the black plague of being responsible for the many sick, Moorgué thought to himself.
"Contagious or not, he still cost nine pence" said the man and held out his hand once more.
"Be careful with him" Moorgué said with a cunning smile as he handed the man the nine pence.
After a prolonged driving, the cart finally stopped. Baron Von Tarkin, who was still lying face down, could hear the man lift the dead from the cart and threw them in the mass grave. When the man lying next to Baron Von Tarkin was lifted up, he sounded an apologetic grunt.
"I'm not dead" he complained and raised a hand to his head, as he got lifted onto man's shoulder.
"Sorry old man, but you've already been paid for" he replied and threw him into the grave.
The vague scream got replaced by a crack. Probably the sound of his neck breaking. Baron Von Tarkin was turned around by the arm, so he laid face-up, looking at the man who was about to lift him up and put him over his shoulder.
"YOU are certainly dead" the man noted before he bent down to pick up Tarkin.
"I am very much dead" Tarkin said with a malicious smile as he grabbed the man's neck with one hand. "And in a moment you will be just as dead as the people you've just thrown into that grave."
Baron Von Tarkin threw the man's life loose body from him. It landed with a slight bump on the ground. He descended from the cart and looked out over the mass grave. In hundreds of bloated, half-rotten corpses was thrown on top of each other. The stench would've been unbearable for those who could smell something. Baron smiled to himself. So far everything went according to plan, without further trouble. He could easily raise the hundreds of dead and march them through the towns in the region. Nobody would be shown mercy.
In less than a month Baron Von Tarkin's troops had left all cities in an entire region deserted of people and raised them all as part of his army of undead. Baron Von Tarkin and Moorgué had repeated their little act from Dursey in Lenceros. Afterwards Tarkin had merely marched his troops into Angel Falls, Paradise and Vail's Gate and slaughtered all who were still alive. Even a small monastery on the way to the last destination of their trip, were not spared from being a part of the rapidly growing army of undead. Tarkin had apparently found it too ironic to just leave the monks behind, after the monastery had been burned down.
The last target was a small village named Farmerville. It wasn't the number of inhabitants that made this village a prime target. No, there was something very special about this village that made it worthwhile to pay a quick visit. Namely, a blacksmith who possessed the ability to forge magical weapons and items. It was the only one of the cities where Moorgué had been present during the actual attack. But Moorgué was the only one who knew who the blacksmith was, and it was important to him that he remained alive for the sake of his abilities.
Moorgué stood recalling the slaughter of villagers. It was midnight when they rode into the village, Farmerville. The moon shone clear in the sky. There were only few clouds that night. Aedth had waited just outside the village with Tarkin troops, while Moorgué and Tarkin had ridden into town. Moorgué stood in front of a barn when the Baron Von Tarkin came towards him. The moon light illuminated his pale bones and gave his face a bluish tinge.
"Ah, harvest season" said Tarkin with an insidious smile. "My favorite time of year." He had found a scythe, standing up against one side of the barn. "What do you say Moorgué, shouldn't we help these poor village people with their harvest?" Tarkin asked and let one finger run down the long blade of the scythe. The sound of the sharp blade against his bone gave a faint grinding sound. "Then maybe they can help us afterwards with our harvest. The harvest of their country men's souls" he laughed spitefully.
Tarkin stood like this for nearly a minute and laughed at his own remark. Tarkin looked at Moorgué. "Was it a little too long?" Moorgué nodded. "And a little too evil?" Moorgué nodded once more. Tarkin nodded a few times in self-discovery, before he raised the scythe up high and signalled to his troops, who stood on the outskirts of the village. The sound of feet being dragged along the ground, rattling bones and snorting horses soon followed. The stench of rotten flesh hung heavy in the warm summer air. A sour odour attacked Moorgué's nostrils. The content of his stomach turned, he suffocated. He felt as though he would vomit. In an attempt to endure the stench, he pulled his shirt up in front of his mouth.
Tarkin looked scornfully at him while he snorted. "When this is over, we'll have helped you with that problem."
A pair of chickens protested vociferously when several zombies was about to trample them down, and soon after several of the peasants animals began to act wild. Pigs squealed loudly. Several horses whinnied wildly, while they panicky tried to stand on hind legs.
A candle was lit in one of the cottages and a farmer came out with a pitchfork in one hand and a torch in the other. "Who's there?" He coughed as if he had pneumonia.
His eyes barely got to express his horror at seeing the dead walking around, before a sword had pierced his chest. Soon followed a number of screams, all of which soon were silenced. The only thing that now broke the silence was the sound of the burning buildings. Once again Moorgué looked up at the moon before they left the village, lying in ruins. The moon was as crimson red as the ground beneath them.
Prologue:
In order to conquer one must, in time, make some difficult choices. Few rulers have reigned long without support from other nations. People being betrayed, new and liberal alliances are formed and enemies overcome. All to maintain its position or take someone else's. For Baron Von Tarkin, the question now is whether you are a Friend Or Foe.
Map description:
Shortly after Bakrus had poisoned the drinking water throughout the region of The Wheel, Baron Von Tarkin had left all of the cities deserted. No one was left alive. With his rapidly growing army, Baron Von Tarkin has now decided to go for the capital of Channon, Rylos. But before he begins his campaign, he has demanded that all the undead in the wasteland of Korresan, acknowledges him as their king and place themselves and their troops at his disposal.
The Story:
As promised, Baron Von Tarkin had offered Moorgué eternal life as an undead. Now he only needed to choose how he would live for the rest of his days. He was given the choice of being transformed into either a vampire, skeleton, zombie or ghost. If he chose one of these, he would be reborn as a strong undead with new abilities. He could also choose to let death magic slowly devour his body and proceed as a necromancer. Thus he would avoid the uncontrollable craving for blood or that his body would decay.
Moorgué had allready made his choice..
Moorgué had flashbacks of his last minutes, as a living human. Tarkin had come to fulfil his part of their agreement. Moorgué had chosen to be immortalized as a ghost. A choice Tarkin was quite happy about. Although his gratification probably arose from the fact, that he got to see Moorgué die. And of course wake him back to life under his command.
Prior to his transformation, Moorgué however had predicted that Tarkin hardly would let him keep his own will, so before the agreement was settled, Moorgué had cast a spell that would prevent Tarkin from gaining control over his mind. Tarkin was certainly not pleased, when he learned that Moorgué was not bound to him, as the rest of his troops. But although Moorgué was not bound to him by magic, he still thought of Tarkin as his lord. At least for now.
Immediately after Moorgué made his choice, Tarkin ordered two skeletons to hold him. Tarkin drew his sword and cut the throat of Moorgué. The feeling of life leaving his body was extremely uncomfortable, but fortunately only lasted briefly. Moorgué were stripped and thrown into a fire. Tarkin cast a spell that bound Moorgué's soul to this world and slowly his spirit took form. Tarkin handed him a sword, which he grabbed hold of. He could feel the cold steel in his hand, but that was also the only thing he could feel. He no longer felt anything. It was a strange feeling.
Moorgué awoke deep indside the Mausoleum
Moorgué having left the MausoleumBaron Von Tarkin had killed the former ruler of Korresan, Maximillian Devlos and now demanded to get the region's war-lord's terms, in order for them to surrender their armies to him and acknowledge him as their ruler. He had also aired his idea of overthrowing Rylos, and expected their immediate support. Once Rylos lay before Tarkin's feet, he could begin to exterminate all life.
The vampire Clan, the Von Carsteins, flatly refused both to recognize Tarkin as their ruler and also to support him in his plan to conquer Rylos. "Its words of a madman, we are witnessing" they replied. A response that quite clearly revealed, that they indirect feared that the source of their own survival, mankind would disappear. Typical of vampires to let their bloodlust cloud all rational thinking.
Count Rigor had required to recieve a larger sum of money and conditioned that they would keep a small army. Just as safety, in case of war or attacks from neighbouring nations. How could Baron Von Tarkin interpret their demands as nothing more than an insult to his offer to let them join his army.
The last warlord had not responded. However, Baron Von Tarkin knew that it was Kreegan demons, who possessed the last part of the region.
None of them had expressed any desire to meet Tarkin's requirements, so they left him with no choice. He had to take his position as ruler of Korresan by force. A shame, since Tarkin wanted to fight the religious fools from Channon, rather than his own kind.
Moorgué could still remember his last time as a living person. It was now many months ago, that he had made the agreement with Baron Von Tarkin, to be transformed into an undead creature of his own choice. However, Moorgué had to complete a few tasks for Tarkin first. The last task, to poison the drinking water in all towns in the region where Moorgué himself lived, he had paid someone else to do. Such a risky job, he saw no reason to carry out himself. Moorgué knew the region quite well and knew where he might be able to find someone who would accept such a task.
The Robber's Hole was the place where people went to have their dirty work done. A man named Bakrus had accepted the job. It later turned out that Bakrus, who had been in the process of performing a necromancers deeds, was a monk. A fact that Moorgué had found both ironic and amusing. After Bakrus had accepted the assignment, Moorgué had ordered a small group of ghosts to constantly keep track of his whereabouts. An assurance that things went as they should. Had Bakrus deviated even the slightest from his task, he would immediately have been given a warning. If necessary, they would have killed him. Thus Moorgué also knew exactly when the task was completed and Bakrus would turn up to collect the rest of his payment. When Moorgué had sensed that Bakrus was about to complete the task, he had reported Bakrus to the authorities.
Now the situation was such, that the region was not part of a nation and therefore had no actual ruler or regent. It was a region consisting of many races and nationalities. And in particular, a haven for criminals. Some cities in the outlaying area of The Wheel, which the region was called, had tried to become a part of emerging nations such as Great Arcane and Palaedra but the borders were already drawn up. And of course, nobody wanted to disturb the peace between the nations, by suddenly expanding the boundary. This was among the reasons, why this region was so obvious a target for Tarkin's plan. But most cities did have some kind of law and order. And usually also someone to enforce their rules. And it was these people of the law, Moorgué had put on the trail of Bakrus as a diversionary tactic of Tarkin's further plan.
Moorgué's brain clung to the memories of the events of recent months. A natural reaction. Many people see their lives pass by just before they die. The reawakened will witness their memories being brought forth, one last time before slowly sliding into oblivion, leaving them without any particular remembrance of their former lives. Such was the case for Moorgué as well.
He remembered how he, together with Baron Von Tarkin, with no problems had snuck into the city, Dursey. The city's defenses were paralyzed by the poisoned drinking water, which Bakrus short time before had been behind. Based on a recipe Baron Von Tarkin had found in his precious book, The Necronomicon, which he had recently come into possession of. A mixture of deadly poison and immortality potion. But not an ordinary immortality potion. No, this was specially designed to make the undead immortal. A variation of the so called Potions of Immortality, called Potion of Undead Immortality. The special thing about this potion was that anyone who drank it, would first die from poisoning, and then become practically immortal once they would be raised as undead.
A fate all residents in Dursey and several other cities came to suffer.
For a little more than a few weeks, Moorgué had followed the developments in Dursey first hand. The number of dead rose steadily day by day. The streets soon began to flow with corpses, so in order to avoid contamination, the dead bodies were collected several times a week. The corpses were then dumped in a mass grave, whose location Baron Von Tarkin was very interested in. The plan was simple and would soon prove to be progressing smoothly.
"Bring out your dad! Bring out your dad!" a man shouted in the outskirt of town.
Behind him a man who pulled a cart, stopped. "Bloody hell, I've been listening to this nonsense in the past cities, but now's enough!" The man in front of him turned around with a confused expression on his face. "It's not their dad's we want them to bring out.."
"It's not?"
"No, it's their dead.."
"Their dead?! Aw, now that's sick!" the man replied, clearly showing his disgust.
"What's sick about it? We are the dead collectors."
The man looked confused. "The debt collectors? But I thought that.."
"What?! That we were the dad collectors?"
"Well, yes.."
The man in front of the cart placed his hands on both sides of his hips, before raising one arm as he continued to speak "Now why one earth would we be collecting dads? Besides, haven't you noticed they're not moving?" he said as he pointed at the people laying in the cart.
The other man shrugged his shoulders "Well, I guess I figured they were dead drunk."
"Dead drunk?!" the man with the cart exclaimed. "Then what? Our job is to drive them around 'till they sobered up?"
His face wore a shameful expression as he tried to explain himself "Well err.. Truthfully told, I haven't really thought that much about it. But yes, something like that I reckon.."
He leaned in over the cart and turned over one of the bodies. "Then how would you explain the women, then?"
The other man went over to the cart and took a real close look at the head of the body in front of him, before he exclaimed, surprised while pointing at the corpse "That's a woman?!"
The man in front of the cart raised his arms to the sky "Our lord on a horse, where ever did they find you..? Listen, just say it right in this here next town, okay?"
The other man nodded and they proceeded onwards.
Moorgué had taken place in one of the city's streets and was now just waiting, with Tarkin hanging over his shoulder, for the day's first dead to be retrieved.
"Bring out your dead!" shouted the man while he repeatedly struck a pot with a wooden spoon. His cries grew louder. He came closer.
"Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"
Clearly sick people were crawling around in the mud and some tried to hide in baskets. An old woman was about to dust off her cat, by slapping it against a wall. Women and children's crying could be heard in the background. People coughed and moaned of illness. All were slowly dying.
Two men pulled a cart with dead behind them, while the one hit a saucepot with a wooden spoon. Moorgué stood and watched as a man was thrown up on the cart.
"Only nine pence" replied the man with the pot, when the corpse had been placed on the cart. "Bring out your dead!"
A tall, lanky man came carrying an old man over his shoulder. "Here's one."
"Only nine pence" replied the man with the pot.
"I'm not dead!" it came from the old man.
The man with the pot looked first at the tall man and then at the old geezer he had over his shoulder. "What?"
"Nothing. Here's your nine pence" said the tall man.
The man on the shoulder complained "I'm not dead!"
The man with the pot looked with great amazement at the tall man. "He says he's not dead."
"Yes he is."
"No!" it sounded distraught from the old.
The man with the pot went round the tall man and looked at the old man's face. "He isn't."
The tall man lashed out with his head. "Well, he will be soon, he's very ill."
"I'm getting better!" said the old man.
The young tall man turned his head. "No, you're not. You'll be stone dead in a moment." he said in a rough tone.
The man with the pot shook his head and waved his arms repellent. "Oh, I can't take him like that, it's against regulations."
"I don't want to go in the cart!" whimpered the old man.
The tall man turned his head towards the old. "Oh, don't be such a baby" he said in a patronizing tone.
The man with the pot still refused. "I can't take him..."
"I feel fine.." said the old man and raised his head.
The tall young man put his head on one side and smiled kindly. "Oh, do us a favor.."
But the man with the pot only shook his head. "I can't."
The tall man scratched himself on the cheek. "Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long."
The man with the pot drew a little corner of the mouth. "Naaah, I got to go on to Robinson's, they've lost nine today."
"Well, when is your next round?" asked the tall lanky man.
"Thursday."
"I think I'll go for a walk" said the old man while he was still hanging from the young man's shoulder.
The young man turned his head. "You're not fooling anyone y'know." Then he looked at the man with the pot. "Look, isn't there something you can do?"
"I feel happy... I feel happy" the old man started to sing.
The man with the pot looked around and then struck the old man in the head with his spoon.
"Ah, thanks very much" said the tall man and threw the old one up on the cart.
"Not at all. See you on Thursday" the man replied and received the nine pence.
"Right" said the young man.
Moorgué was carrying Tarkin, who for the occasion was dressed in old worn brown clothes and a hood over his head, not to attract attention. He threw Tarkin up on the cart, so he lay face down. The man with the cart took hold of his hand.
"Woaw, how long have you had him lying around?" he asked, surprised and held up Tarkin's bony right hand.
"Don't know. He has blocked the toilet all morning" Moorgué replied with a straight face.
"All morning?" he exclaimed with wide eyes. "There is nothing left but bones" he concluded with chock written all over his face.
Moorgué shrugged. "No, but you know how many rats there are."
"True," he nodded.
Moorgué looked at the man with the spoon. "Won't you take him?"
"Why, yes of course. Nine pence" the man replied and put out his hand. "Well, at least there's no risk of contagion" he muttered to himself.
"Excuse me, what?" Moorgué asked.
"Oh, I just concluded, that there is no risk of contagion with him. Since there are only his bones left" the man replied with a wry smile.
"Risk of contagion?" Moorgué asked wonderingly.
"Yes, the black plague you know" the man said, pointing around him.
"The black plague" Moorgué nodded. How fortunate that they just suspected the black plague of being responsible for the many sick, Moorgué thought to himself.
"Contagious or not, he still cost nine pence" said the man and held out his hand once more.
"Be careful with him" Moorgué said with a cunning smile as he handed the man the nine pence.
After a prolonged driving, the cart finally stopped. Baron Von Tarkin, who was still lying face down, could hear the man lift the dead from the cart and threw them in the mass grave. When the man lying next to Baron Von Tarkin was lifted up, he sounded an apologetic grunt.
"I'm not dead" he complained and raised a hand to his head, as he got lifted onto man's shoulder.
"Sorry old man, but you've already been paid for" he replied and threw him into the grave.
The vague scream got replaced by a crack. Probably the sound of his neck breaking. Baron Von Tarkin was turned around by the arm, so he laid face-up, looking at the man who was about to lift him up and put him over his shoulder.
"YOU are certainly dead" the man noted before he bent down to pick up Tarkin.
"I am very much dead" Tarkin said with a malicious smile as he grabbed the man's neck with one hand. "And in a moment you will be just as dead as the people you've just thrown into that grave."
Baron Von Tarkin threw the man's life loose body from him. It landed with a slight bump on the ground. He descended from the cart and looked out over the mass grave. In hundreds of bloated, half-rotten corpses was thrown on top of each other. The stench would've been unbearable for those who could smell something. Baron smiled to himself. So far everything went according to plan, without further trouble. He could easily raise the hundreds of dead and march them through the towns in the region. Nobody would be shown mercy.
In less than a month Baron Von Tarkin's troops had left all cities in an entire region deserted of people and raised them all as part of his army of undead. Baron Von Tarkin and Moorgué had repeated their little act from Dursey in Lenceros. Afterwards Tarkin had merely marched his troops into Angel Falls, Paradise and Vail's Gate and slaughtered all who were still alive. Even a small monastery on the way to the last destination of their trip, were not spared from being a part of the rapidly growing army of undead. Tarkin had apparently found it too ironic to just leave the monks behind, after the monastery had been burned down.
The last target was a small village named Farmerville. It wasn't the number of inhabitants that made this village a prime target. No, there was something very special about this village that made it worthwhile to pay a quick visit. Namely, a blacksmith who possessed the ability to forge magical weapons and items. It was the only one of the cities where Moorgué had been present during the actual attack. But Moorgué was the only one who knew who the blacksmith was, and it was important to him that he remained alive for the sake of his abilities.
Moorgué stood recalling the slaughter of villagers. It was midnight when they rode into the village, Farmerville. The moon shone clear in the sky. There were only few clouds that night. Aedth had waited just outside the village with Tarkin troops, while Moorgué and Tarkin had ridden into town. Moorgué stood in front of a barn when the Baron Von Tarkin came towards him. The moon light illuminated his pale bones and gave his face a bluish tinge.
"Ah, harvest season" said Tarkin with an insidious smile. "My favorite time of year." He had found a scythe, standing up against one side of the barn. "What do you say Moorgué, shouldn't we help these poor village people with their harvest?" Tarkin asked and let one finger run down the long blade of the scythe. The sound of the sharp blade against his bone gave a faint grinding sound. "Then maybe they can help us afterwards with our harvest. The harvest of their country men's souls" he laughed spitefully.
Tarkin stood like this for nearly a minute and laughed at his own remark. Tarkin looked at Moorgué. "Was it a little too long?" Moorgué nodded. "And a little too evil?" Moorgué nodded once more. Tarkin nodded a few times in self-discovery, before he raised the scythe up high and signalled to his troops, who stood on the outskirts of the village. The sound of feet being dragged along the ground, rattling bones and snorting horses soon followed. The stench of rotten flesh hung heavy in the warm summer air. A sour odour attacked Moorgué's nostrils. The content of his stomach turned, he suffocated. He felt as though he would vomit. In an attempt to endure the stench, he pulled his shirt up in front of his mouth.
Tarkin looked scornfully at him while he snorted. "When this is over, we'll have helped you with that problem."
A pair of chickens protested vociferously when several zombies was about to trample them down, and soon after several of the peasants animals began to act wild. Pigs squealed loudly. Several horses whinnied wildly, while they panicky tried to stand on hind legs.
A candle was lit in one of the cottages and a farmer came out with a pitchfork in one hand and a torch in the other. "Who's there?" He coughed as if he had pneumonia.
His eyes barely got to express his horror at seeing the dead walking around, before a sword had pierced his chest. Soon followed a number of screams, all of which soon were silenced. The only thing that now broke the silence was the sound of the burning buildings. Once again Moorgué looked up at the moon before they left the village, lying in ruins. The moon was as crimson red as the ground beneath them.
I'm silent in seven languages - and I got all my familys fear.
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
Moorgué recalled an episode that had made a big impression on him many years ago, back in the old world. A woman named Ecila Percoo had been burned, accused of necromancy.
Ecila possessed the ability to reunite families or widows with their loved ones. For a fee she offered distraught widows and widowed men, to revive their spouses. The same was the case with parents, who had lost one or more of their children. Rumours said that she worshiped occult powers, but the locals saw her abilities as a blessing, and thus the rumours were given little attention. Ecila was a loner. Pretty, but weird. She had kept to herself and lived isolated for many years, until one day a traveller came by her place and much to his horror, revealed her secret. That she lived with her deceased family, whom she had lost almost a year earlier due to illness. Well, deceased was perhaps not the right designation, for her husband and children had walked lively around the house. The stranger reported Ecila to the authorities, who immediately took action. Ecila was arrested and sentenced to death for her dark deeds.
People who in the past had asked her to raise their loved ones, now stood and accused her of having brought them back to life. They had probably come to realize, that life with their deceased family wasn't as it used to be or as they had hoped for. Moorgué remembered clearly her pale appearance and the long grey hair. Before she was tied to the stake, she was asked what she had to say in her defense. A poor attempt to make the session appear as a fair trial. She had always been silent, and spoke only because she was questioned. Moorgué recalled how he at the same time was both disgusted, but also fascinated by the words, that a few minutes later sealed her death sentence.
"I love the dead before they're cold, their blueing flesh for me to hold, cadaver eyes upon me see - nothing. I love the dead before they rise, no farewells, no goodbyes."
A man believed to have heard her recite the following phrase, one evening he had went to visit his parents' grave at the cemetery. He had never dared to tell this to anyone until now. "I never even knew your now rotting face. But while friends and lovers mourn your silly grave, I have other uses for you, darling" he claimed she had said. It turned out the man's parents, had been awakened back to life, but people had already convinced each other that Ecila had raised the dead, because she was in cahoots with dark forces.
In the years after Ecila was burned at the stake, the thought of immortality and the price therefore, had been in the back of Moorgué's head. Now, the thought had been realized.
Aedth and Moorgué had spotted a small group of troops who rode under the Von Carstein clans flag. Unless they came with a statement of subjugation, they were to be considered as enemy troops. Aedth and Moorgué had been spotted, but the group gave them no sign, that they came for peaceful purposes. All of a sudden the colour of the group's flag changed, but by that time, Aedth had already called the attack.
Moorgué and Aedth announced Baron Von Tarkin that they had spotted enemy troops the day before, not far from Trakash. A small group of skeletons, all of which were defeated with one exception. The leader of the group was still alive. He had surrendered unconditionally, claiming that he was one of Tarkin's spies, thus he demanded to talk with the Baron.
"I told him that we knew nothing about any spies" said Aedth with a saucily smile.
Tarkin's gaze turned toward him. His eye sockets issued a reddish glow. "Where is he now?" he growled.
Aedth backed a step. "In the dungeon." Aedth could see Tarkin's increasing irritation. "We didn't know that he spoke the truth. You haven't mentioned anything about a spy to us" Aedth replied apologetic.
Tarkin sighed deeply and nodded. "Just get him."
Moorgué and Aedth went down into the dungeon to retrieve the spy, Restinur. On the way to his cell, they passed another cell, where another prisoner was held captive. Moorgué looked into the cell and realized that he had forgotten all about the blacksmith. He had now been sitting in the dungeon below Trakash for some time. And all this time, they had not taken advantage of his special abilities. Moorgué had to make sure to obtain the necessary paraphernalia, such as a hammer and anvil, then he could always hypnotize the blacksmith, if he didn't voluntarily agree to forge weapons for them. But he had to put things in place while he could still remember the hypnotic spell.
Restinur was led to Tarkin, accompanied by both Aedth and Moorgué. It soon became apparent that Restinur had intercepted some very interesting and useful information.
"Tell me what you have learned Restinur" Tarkin said and signalled to Moorgué and Aedth, that they should let Restinur go.
Restinur straightened up and brushed his arm, where Aedth had held. "I believe that my information will please the Baron" he smiled. "I have heard Vaclav Von Carstein discuss some concerns with his family. Apparently some of their Kreegan allies has given the expression, that they would be willing to join the Baron."
"So?" said Baron Von Tarkin. "Why didn't they announce this during our negotiations?"
"It is my clear impression that the Kreegans fear the Carstein family. For many years, they have been under the protection of the family, Von Carsteins. The Kreegans are quite wealthy, but their numbers are too scarce. They only seek wealth and land. As it is, they pay for their protection, but it is my belief, that their loyalty lies with the strongest leader. They will follow the one they feel will be most profitable for them."
Baron Von Tarkin interrupted while he nodded understandingly. "So you reckon that the Kreegans will join me, if I kill the Von Carstein family?"
Restinur nodded with a grim smile. "Exactly."
Baron Von Tarkin looked at Aedth and Moorgué. "Then it seems like there is no reason wasting time negotiating. A shame. Their family could have been a strong ally. But if the Kreegans are so scarce in numbers, what would then prevent me from defeating them as well?"
Restinur stood puzzled for a moment. "But they could become a wealthy ally.."
"And then? If I kill them, I take their land and wealth. And then I can keep it all myself. Besides it's all rightfully mine."
Aedth broke into the conversation, "It's not worthwhile, my Lord. Demons are ill-suited to be raised as undead. And even if you let them live, they will be disloyal if you kill their leader. It would be an inadvisable loss at this time."
"Well said, Aedth. Let us instead focus on the Von Carsteins, so we may soon again concentrate on the actual objective. Was there anything else Restinur?" Tarkin asked.
"After the meeting, I heard the Kreegan leaders mention a book, the Demonary. I examined the name and according to legend, it is written by the powers of darkness. `Demonary Ex Mortes´. Roughly translated, it means `the demon book´. The book should serve as a portal to the old Kreegan realm. It was written long ago, back when the sea was red with blood. Blood which the book was written with. It is said to give the possessor the ability to conjure up countless demons."
"I hope you have something more concrete than just a legend about an old Kreegan book" Tarkin said.
"A rumour tells of a demon, who came to this world with the book in its possession. But upon her arrival, she was overpowered by a necromancer.."
"So a necromancer is believed to be in possession of the book?" Tarkin asked with increased interest.
Restinur nodded. "Several sources have mentioned a necromancer named Sandor. He should be residing in the underworld."
"What else do you know?" asked Tarkin. "Does he have a large army?"
Restinur shook his head "Not to my knowledge. But with the book in his possession, he doesn't need an army. He can evoke hundreds of demons, in an instant, if the book is as powerful as the legend tells. But you are not the only one, wanting to grab hold of the book. Vaclav and the Kreegans have already sent out troops."
Baron Von Tarkin paid Restinur for the information and let him go.
"If the rumour about the book is true, the other warlords will obey my every command, once it is in my possession."
It didn't take long, before Tarkin had conjured a portal to the underworld, which he went through.
Moorgué went down into the dungeon with a hammer in his hand. It was time to exploit the blacksmith skills. Anvil and other required paraphernalia had already been arranged in his cell. The blacksmith was asleep when Moorgué entered his cell. He had barely had time to wake up before Moorgué had hypnotized him using a spell.
Moorgué's memory was beginning to fail him and it got harder and harder remembering the old incantations. But this hypnotic spell, he had written down on a piece of paper, shortly after he had been reminded that the blacksmith sat in the dungeon. A hypnotic spell works only briefly, maybe a few hours. So Moorgué left the paper with the spell in the custody of a zombie. Thus, the guards could ensure that the blacksmith remained under hypnosis until he had completed his work.
A single clubfooted zombie came wandering towards Aedth and Moorgué. Aedth drew his sword at the sight of the zombie, but Moorgué placed a hand on Aedth sword, signalling for him to lower his weapon. Surely this lonely zombie wouldn't pose a treat to them. Besides he appeared unarmed. When he finally came within reach, he asked if they served under the command of, Baron Von Tarkin.
Aedth confirmed this and asked for the purpose of the zombies presence.
"I've come to serve the proclaimed ruler of Korresan" the zombie replied.
"Good for you" Aedth said in a tone the revealed that he wasn't impressed by the zombies appearance. "But I doubt that my Lord will be needing your assistance." They began to ride on.
"But I'm a highly skilled mage" the zombie shouted, loudly dragging his foot, trying to keep up with the two.
Aedth barely bothered to turn his head as he replied in a mocking tone "Perhaps you are, but being perhaps the slowest creature in Korresan, I don't see you being much of a help in combat. At least when you're not mounted on a horse.."
Aedth's mocking comment had put a grin on Moorgué face.
"I've got proposal for you then..!" the zombie yelled.
They stopped, allowing for the clubfooted zombie to catch up with them.
"What proposal?" Aedth asked currious.
"You believe me to be the slowest creature in all of Korresan, right?" Aedth nodded with a smile. "This meaning that, say a cerberus, is faster than me?"
"That meaning that even a slug could outrun you.."
"What's that got to do with this proposal of yours?" Moorgué asked.
"Well, if I could outrun a cerberus, would you let me join you?"
Aedth turned to Moorgué, who shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't see why they shouldn't agree to that. Aedth turned around, facing the zombie mage once again. "You know what? Letting you race against only one ceberus, just doesn't seem fair. We'll let you run against five ceberus, and if you can outrun any one of them, we'll let you join our forces, deal?"
"A deal" the zombie mage replied with a smile. "But might I request that you bring along five, no six ghosts as well as the five ceberi?"
"For what reason?" Aedth asked wonderingly. "You think you can outrun a ghost?"
"No, that's not the case. But I figured the ghosts, with their transparent appearance, could stand side by side forming the starting line."
"A strange request, but fair enough. Just to be able to watch you humiliating yourself, we will bring five ceberi and six ghost back here" Aedth replied.
Aedth and Moorgué returned to the club footed zombie with the ghosts and the ceberi. As suggested by the zombie, the ghosts were lined up in a row, with their arms stretched out, reaching each other. The zombie and ceberi, each took place in front a ghost. Aedth raised his arm to signal for the race to begin, and in that same time, Moorgué noticed how the lips of the zombie moved in way, as if he was muttering some sort of spell. He couldn't determine which spell though. Aedth lowered his arm, giving signal for the competitors to begin the race. Each of the six passed through the transparent ghost, with such an ease, as if they were mere air. All of the ceberi had a good start, but soon the club footed zombie mage, caught up with the ceberi, passed them all and eventually came in first.
Aedth came to the finishing line, where the zombie awaited them. Moorgué had told Aedth about the spell muttering and Aedth was furious with the zombie. "You've tricked us!" he shouted.
Moorgué on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. Clearly the zombie wasn't quite sure how to react to those accusations. "Indeed you did. I believe you cast some sort of spell upon the ceberi before start, and using the ghosts to age your opponents was quite a cleaver trick. Clearly we'd underestimated you. You're obviously stronger than you appear. You know what? I think we should let you join us, but in return, you should teach me that spell you casted."
The zombie looked at Aedth. His facial expression was beginning to change. The fury calmed. Instead he began laughing. "Moorgué, I think you're right. Anyone who can pull off a trick like that, is worthy of joining Tarkin's army."
Baron Von Tarkin's financial advisor came to Moorgué and Aedth with a troubled expression on his face. "The city's wealth is almost gone.."
Aedth raised his eyebrows "What do you mean, almost gone? I checked it just last week and it was almost full of gold at that time."
"Well yes, but the Baron has ordered quite a lot of gold send to him lately.." The advisor was clearly afraid of being punished for his bad news.
Aedth sighed. And with a worried expression, he stated, "Obviously Tarkin must be trying to buy a large amount of troops. I knew he should have brought more men along. If this continues much longer, he's gonna spend all the gold, in his quest for that book."
"Clearly he has no idea of the large amount of gold he's wasting away" Moorgué added. "How are we supposed to wage war without any money?"
Aedth looked at the advisor and then at Moorgué. "That's our problem, not his."
Moorgué shook his head. "But it will be, once he finds out he's spend all his wealth"
"Well, you just go ahead and inform him about the lack of gold, if you feel up for it. But there's a reason why the advisor chose to tell us, rather than sending a letter off to Tarkin."
The advisor just looked at Moorgué without saying a word. But his facial expression said enough. Now Moorgué didn't know Tarkin nearly as well as Aedth did, but clearly he was right. Oh, the advantages of being ruler. Leaving others to take care of your problems. Surely the task he had presented them with just seemed to get harder and harder, Moorgué thought to himself.
Aedth looked at the advisor who just had been standing, without saying anything. "Was there anything else?" he asked.
"Well, just one more thing" the advisor said. "Tarkin has demanded yet another shipment of gold sent off to him, but I fear that the city's money supply isn't enough.."
"How much is he demanding?" asked Aedth. The advisor handed the letter to Aedth. After reading it, he looked at the advisor. "We don't even have that much gold left?"
"I'm afraid not."
Aedth sighed deeply. And after a few minutes of thinking he had come up with a solution. "Okay, write him a letter telling him that, due to the risk of the money getting robbed on the way, we'll split it into ten shipments."
Up ahead, was a small canyon. A few ghosts appeared with a bit of information about this area, brought to them by Restinur. Apparently a group of old-aged Nightmares roamed in this canyon. Aedth just snorted at this information. Why did the spy Restinur even bother, sending a group of ghost scouts out to inform them about some slow old horses.
"Nightmares are more than just ordinary horses" Moorgué said. "It's said that their stare is able to look into the soul of any living man, forcing him to face the fears of his worst nightmares, paralyzing him with terror. Thus earning them their names of Nightmares."
"Fortunately for us, we're no longer living, neither do we dream anymore" Aedth noted.
Moorgué haven't really thought about that until now, but it was true. He hadn't had a single dream since his transformation. And obviously the undead wouldn't be affected by their paralyzing gaze. But still, they shouldn't underestimate those nightmares.
Restinur had supplied Aedth and Moorgué with information about the Carstein family, who controlled this part of Korresan. Aedth took out the information. They were a family of ancient vampires and as all vampires, they possessed the ability to suck the life out of any living opponent. Nothing new in that, Aedth thought to himself. Furthermore they all had developed the ability to quickly heal any wounds they might recieve during battle. This made them particularly dangerous opponents. Vaclac, head of the family, even possessed the ability to hypnotize his enemies. Even the undead, who was otherwise immune to mind spells.
"What has he written about their weaknesses?" Moorgué asked.
"That's all it says" Aedth replied.
Moorgué frowned. Sure, it was nice of Restinur to make a list of valuable information they ought to know about their opponents, but the fact that he hadn't at the same time, been able to gather information about possible weaknesses, didn't exactly impress Moorgué. Oh well, it seemed they just had to defeat them the old fashion way.
Baron Von Tarkin and his companions surprised a small group of demons. The size of the group, clearly indicated that they needed to be able to travel quickly. They were undoubtedly down here in search of the demon book.
"I presume you seek, that which is rightfully mine" Tarkin said to the group's leader, a male demon.
With a deep voice, the demon answered "I have no idea what you're talking about and we have no account with you, but if you stand in our way, we will not hesitate to kill you."
"Don't play dumb with me" Tarkin snapped. "I know from a reliable source, that you are looking for a book called The Demonary."
The demon hesitated for a moment, after which he produced a small smile. "Even if the book were to exist, it wouldn't do you much good. For I doubt that you are able to read ancient Kreegan" laughed the demon.
"I see" Tarkin nodded. "But you are ..?" The demon didn't answer that. "Why don't you help me? If you join me, I will reward you with wealth and titles. A rank in my army and maybe even some land. That's a better deal than the one you have with the Carstein family."
"Why should we accept your offer? With that book in my possession, I can release my kind from the bunch of bloodsuckers. Ha, I'll even be able to claim the throne of this wasteland."
"Fool! Don't you know that it was I, who killed Maximillian Devlos! I rule this nation! And I claim that book!" Tarkin yelled. "My men and I greatly outnumber you and your pitiful search team. If there is just the least bit of sense in you, you'll accept my offer. This is your last chance. Join me or be eradicated!"
The demon laughed once more. "My sense tells me that I should stick to my own plan. We do not know fear. Not even if we're outnumbered." His facial expression changed. "But we know of anger! And I will crush all of your bones, for your insult!"
Not all of the demons seemed as eager as their leader, who had already drawn his weapon. They seemed to be in doubt. Should they accept Tarkin's proposal while there was still time? Tarkin smiled to himself on the inside. Restinur was right. The demons were so divided, that they were willing to betray their own kind for wealth or a rank in the enemy army, if it was greater than their own. Once he was in possession of the book, he would hardly need to spend much time fighting the demons in his nation.
"I see that you carry the Carstein family banner!" Baron Von Tarkin shouted to a female vampire, who led a small group of troops. "I am Baron Von Tarkin, declared ruler of Korresan. Your Lord has refused to acknowledge me as your ruler, but I am willing to ignore that. If you swear allegiance to me and join my army, I shall spare you."
"I guess the Lord you refer to, is my father.." the vampire replied with a bold smile. "And I'm not going to oppose his refusal. You see, I am quite familiar with the story that you killed the former ruler of Korresan, more than two decades ago. And now, after all these years, you expect us to bow before you and join you in a war against Channon? My father was right. You must be mad!" she yelled back, in a mocking tone. "But I'll be happy to put your dusty old bones to rest forever and then my family may claim your part of Korresan!"
Tarkin's right hand was clutching hard around his sceptre. No one should mock the rightful ruler of Korresan in such a way.
When Baron Von Tarkin arrived at Sandor's mansion, he was greeted by a female demon. She watched Tarkin's entourage from the door and quickly realized that he probably had come to defeat Sandor.
"Are you seeking the Demonary?" asked the demon as she cast a nervous glance inside the mansion.
"So the book does exist?" Tarkin said slightly surprised.
The demon nodded. "Sandor keeps me as his slave. If you kill him and promised me a rank in your army, I'll show you the book's true potential."
Baron Von Tarkin agreed to let Vilexica take place in his army as soon as Sandor was dead. And should she turn out to be deceiving Tarkin, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
Sandor had seen Baron Von Tarkin come. He stood with a book in front of him and recited the following: "Kanda! Estrata! Amantos! Kanda! Amandat! Nosferatos! Amendon! Akadiv! Kanda!" Seconds later, a minor army of demons had been summoned.
Sandor had no more than just dropped dead after Baron Von Tarkin had proved just how strong his magic powers really was, before Vilexica had wrested the Demonary book out of his dead hands and stood and regarded the book, she had brought to this new world years ago. And she only so briefly had been allowed to possess.
Baron Von Tarkin stood for a while, from a short distance and watched how Vilexica admiringly studied and almost caressed the book, as if it was her most precious possession. It might have been, once. Tarkin calmly walked over to her and reached out for the book, without saying a word. She looked at him with slightly greedy eyes as she clutched the book in her hands. If Tarkin had lungs, he would probably have exhausted a deep, slightly impatient, sigh. But as it were, he no longer did. Instead, he stretched his long bony arm all the way out, while he held his left hand open in front Vilexica.
"Give me the book."
It was like Vilexica had woken from a trance, when she looked up at Baron Von Tarkin. She handed him the book.
"I didn't mean to .."
"You offered to teach me about the powers and abilities of this book, if I were to kill Sandor. Now I offer you a place in my army. A title of Commander if you wish. If you'd rather have your freedom and wealth, you will be given that. But if you approach this book without my knowledge, or I arouse suspicion that you intend to betray me, I will not hesitate to kill you, Vilexica."
Vilexica bowed reverently. "I gratefully thank you for you offer and owe you my freedom. I would never dream of betraying you. Instead, I shall serve you as best I can, my Lord."
Baron Von Tarkin packed the book away and opened a portal back to Trakash.
When the Baron once again found himself above ground, with the book in his possession, he summoned Moorgué and Aedth, in order to be updated about the developments in the battle against the other warlords. He was not particularly satisfied with their excuses, that they met more resistance than expected and that the area was so barren it was difficult for them to gather the resources necessary to wage war. Had the once so luxuriant Korresan really become as barren and desolate as they described it?
He had to admit that he had spent most of the past several years in his castle in Trakash and thus had not kept up with the way the land had evolved. How could it be, that he as a ruler, no longer possessed enormous wealth? Had it all just slowly dwindled away? He began to realize that he had done nothing all these years. Despite the fact that he had defeated the former ruler, he had let other warlords gain a foothold and in time, each of them had acquired their own part of Korresan, which they now ruled.
The gold which the Kreegans paid the vampire family to protect them, was gold that should have been his. It was about at this moment that Tarkin realized, that if his plan to overthrow Rylos and conquer Channon were to succeed, he had to strike hard and fast. As he rode out into the wastelands of Korresan, he thought about what preparations that had to be made, before he would embark against Channon. He knew that the preparation would be important, because he could not accept a failed attempt of conquest. In addition, he had already wasted enough time, during all these years.
Count and Countess Rigor and Mortise had sent a messenger in the form of a zombie, which came with their desire to capitulate, on condition that Baron Von Tarkin would spare them. They were willing to surrender the rest of their armies. All they wanted in return was an estate and a little land. Baron Von Tarkin decided to decline the conditions of their surrender. He ordered two skeletons to retain the messenger as he scratched a Holy Word spell into the chest of the zombie and cut off one hand. The spell would weaken the messenger so much, that he would be dead before the week had passed. But that ought to be time enough for him to go home to his master, with a response that should be clearly understood.
Since Baron Von Tarkin had succeeded bringing Rigor and Mortise to their knees, he might as well crush the last of their troops and set an example. After all, he had given them the offer several months ago, but they had chosen to battle rather than surrender. Now they had to face the consequences of their choice.
Baron Von Tarkin had succeeded to uphold his position as ruler of the wasteland, Korresan. All opponents in the area had either been defeated or forced to its knees.
The vampire family, the Von Carsteins, who puree had refused to acknowledge Von Tarkin as their ruler and also had the audacity to call him a madman when he had aired his plans to attack Channon and topple Rylos had sealed their own fate.
Count and Countess Rigor and Mortise first came to their senses when they found themselves greatly outnumbered at their last thinly guarded fortress.
Once the Kreegan demons realized that the Von Carstein family no longer were able to offer them protection, they didn't hesitate to surrender and acknowledge Von Tarkin as their ruler. To the amazement of many of Tarkin's men, also including Aedth and Moorgué, the demons had now become part of Tarkin's army. There was something in their unconditional surrender, which had amused Tarkin. The demons were so desperate, they would stab one of their own, just to save their own skin. And it was that desperation Tarkin had sensed. He basically didn't care about the Kreegans, but their willingness to fight for their survival, could prove extremely useful. There had been a drastic development since the Kreegans heyday in the old world and now. They were weak, disorganized and treacherous towards each other. The entertainment value of seeing their behaviour was yet another reason why Baron Von Tarkin had accepted their submission.
Baron Von Tarkin now only lacked to complete the final preparations before he could begin his conquest of the nation of Channon.
Ecila possessed the ability to reunite families or widows with their loved ones. For a fee she offered distraught widows and widowed men, to revive their spouses. The same was the case with parents, who had lost one or more of their children. Rumours said that she worshiped occult powers, but the locals saw her abilities as a blessing, and thus the rumours were given little attention. Ecila was a loner. Pretty, but weird. She had kept to herself and lived isolated for many years, until one day a traveller came by her place and much to his horror, revealed her secret. That she lived with her deceased family, whom she had lost almost a year earlier due to illness. Well, deceased was perhaps not the right designation, for her husband and children had walked lively around the house. The stranger reported Ecila to the authorities, who immediately took action. Ecila was arrested and sentenced to death for her dark deeds.
People who in the past had asked her to raise their loved ones, now stood and accused her of having brought them back to life. They had probably come to realize, that life with their deceased family wasn't as it used to be or as they had hoped for. Moorgué remembered clearly her pale appearance and the long grey hair. Before she was tied to the stake, she was asked what she had to say in her defense. A poor attempt to make the session appear as a fair trial. She had always been silent, and spoke only because she was questioned. Moorgué recalled how he at the same time was both disgusted, but also fascinated by the words, that a few minutes later sealed her death sentence.
"I love the dead before they're cold, their blueing flesh for me to hold, cadaver eyes upon me see - nothing. I love the dead before they rise, no farewells, no goodbyes."
A man believed to have heard her recite the following phrase, one evening he had went to visit his parents' grave at the cemetery. He had never dared to tell this to anyone until now. "I never even knew your now rotting face. But while friends and lovers mourn your silly grave, I have other uses for you, darling" he claimed she had said. It turned out the man's parents, had been awakened back to life, but people had already convinced each other that Ecila had raised the dead, because she was in cahoots with dark forces.
In the years after Ecila was burned at the stake, the thought of immortality and the price therefore, had been in the back of Moorgué's head. Now, the thought had been realized.
Aedth and Moorgué had spotted a small group of troops who rode under the Von Carstein clans flag. Unless they came with a statement of subjugation, they were to be considered as enemy troops. Aedth and Moorgué had been spotted, but the group gave them no sign, that they came for peaceful purposes. All of a sudden the colour of the group's flag changed, but by that time, Aedth had already called the attack.
Moorgué and Aedth announced Baron Von Tarkin that they had spotted enemy troops the day before, not far from Trakash. A small group of skeletons, all of which were defeated with one exception. The leader of the group was still alive. He had surrendered unconditionally, claiming that he was one of Tarkin's spies, thus he demanded to talk with the Baron.
"I told him that we knew nothing about any spies" said Aedth with a saucily smile.
Tarkin's gaze turned toward him. His eye sockets issued a reddish glow. "Where is he now?" he growled.
Aedth backed a step. "In the dungeon." Aedth could see Tarkin's increasing irritation. "We didn't know that he spoke the truth. You haven't mentioned anything about a spy to us" Aedth replied apologetic.
Tarkin sighed deeply and nodded. "Just get him."
Moorgué and Aedth went down into the dungeon to retrieve the spy, Restinur. On the way to his cell, they passed another cell, where another prisoner was held captive. Moorgué looked into the cell and realized that he had forgotten all about the blacksmith. He had now been sitting in the dungeon below Trakash for some time. And all this time, they had not taken advantage of his special abilities. Moorgué had to make sure to obtain the necessary paraphernalia, such as a hammer and anvil, then he could always hypnotize the blacksmith, if he didn't voluntarily agree to forge weapons for them. But he had to put things in place while he could still remember the hypnotic spell.
Restinur was led to Tarkin, accompanied by both Aedth and Moorgué. It soon became apparent that Restinur had intercepted some very interesting and useful information.
"Tell me what you have learned Restinur" Tarkin said and signalled to Moorgué and Aedth, that they should let Restinur go.
Restinur straightened up and brushed his arm, where Aedth had held. "I believe that my information will please the Baron" he smiled. "I have heard Vaclav Von Carstein discuss some concerns with his family. Apparently some of their Kreegan allies has given the expression, that they would be willing to join the Baron."
"So?" said Baron Von Tarkin. "Why didn't they announce this during our negotiations?"
"It is my clear impression that the Kreegans fear the Carstein family. For many years, they have been under the protection of the family, Von Carsteins. The Kreegans are quite wealthy, but their numbers are too scarce. They only seek wealth and land. As it is, they pay for their protection, but it is my belief, that their loyalty lies with the strongest leader. They will follow the one they feel will be most profitable for them."
Baron Von Tarkin interrupted while he nodded understandingly. "So you reckon that the Kreegans will join me, if I kill the Von Carstein family?"
Restinur nodded with a grim smile. "Exactly."
Baron Von Tarkin looked at Aedth and Moorgué. "Then it seems like there is no reason wasting time negotiating. A shame. Their family could have been a strong ally. But if the Kreegans are so scarce in numbers, what would then prevent me from defeating them as well?"
Restinur stood puzzled for a moment. "But they could become a wealthy ally.."
"And then? If I kill them, I take their land and wealth. And then I can keep it all myself. Besides it's all rightfully mine."
Aedth broke into the conversation, "It's not worthwhile, my Lord. Demons are ill-suited to be raised as undead. And even if you let them live, they will be disloyal if you kill their leader. It would be an inadvisable loss at this time."
"Well said, Aedth. Let us instead focus on the Von Carsteins, so we may soon again concentrate on the actual objective. Was there anything else Restinur?" Tarkin asked.
"After the meeting, I heard the Kreegan leaders mention a book, the Demonary. I examined the name and according to legend, it is written by the powers of darkness. `Demonary Ex Mortes´. Roughly translated, it means `the demon book´. The book should serve as a portal to the old Kreegan realm. It was written long ago, back when the sea was red with blood. Blood which the book was written with. It is said to give the possessor the ability to conjure up countless demons."
"I hope you have something more concrete than just a legend about an old Kreegan book" Tarkin said.
"A rumour tells of a demon, who came to this world with the book in its possession. But upon her arrival, she was overpowered by a necromancer.."
"So a necromancer is believed to be in possession of the book?" Tarkin asked with increased interest.
Restinur nodded. "Several sources have mentioned a necromancer named Sandor. He should be residing in the underworld."
"What else do you know?" asked Tarkin. "Does he have a large army?"
Restinur shook his head "Not to my knowledge. But with the book in his possession, he doesn't need an army. He can evoke hundreds of demons, in an instant, if the book is as powerful as the legend tells. But you are not the only one, wanting to grab hold of the book. Vaclav and the Kreegans have already sent out troops."
Baron Von Tarkin paid Restinur for the information and let him go.
"If the rumour about the book is true, the other warlords will obey my every command, once it is in my possession."
It didn't take long, before Tarkin had conjured a portal to the underworld, which he went through.
Moorgué went down into the dungeon with a hammer in his hand. It was time to exploit the blacksmith skills. Anvil and other required paraphernalia had already been arranged in his cell. The blacksmith was asleep when Moorgué entered his cell. He had barely had time to wake up before Moorgué had hypnotized him using a spell.
Moorgué's memory was beginning to fail him and it got harder and harder remembering the old incantations. But this hypnotic spell, he had written down on a piece of paper, shortly after he had been reminded that the blacksmith sat in the dungeon. A hypnotic spell works only briefly, maybe a few hours. So Moorgué left the paper with the spell in the custody of a zombie. Thus, the guards could ensure that the blacksmith remained under hypnosis until he had completed his work.
A single clubfooted zombie came wandering towards Aedth and Moorgué. Aedth drew his sword at the sight of the zombie, but Moorgué placed a hand on Aedth sword, signalling for him to lower his weapon. Surely this lonely zombie wouldn't pose a treat to them. Besides he appeared unarmed. When he finally came within reach, he asked if they served under the command of, Baron Von Tarkin.
Aedth confirmed this and asked for the purpose of the zombies presence.
"I've come to serve the proclaimed ruler of Korresan" the zombie replied.
"Good for you" Aedth said in a tone the revealed that he wasn't impressed by the zombies appearance. "But I doubt that my Lord will be needing your assistance." They began to ride on.
"But I'm a highly skilled mage" the zombie shouted, loudly dragging his foot, trying to keep up with the two.
Aedth barely bothered to turn his head as he replied in a mocking tone "Perhaps you are, but being perhaps the slowest creature in Korresan, I don't see you being much of a help in combat. At least when you're not mounted on a horse.."
Aedth's mocking comment had put a grin on Moorgué face.
"I've got proposal for you then..!" the zombie yelled.
They stopped, allowing for the clubfooted zombie to catch up with them.
"What proposal?" Aedth asked currious.
"You believe me to be the slowest creature in all of Korresan, right?" Aedth nodded with a smile. "This meaning that, say a cerberus, is faster than me?"
"That meaning that even a slug could outrun you.."
"What's that got to do with this proposal of yours?" Moorgué asked.
"Well, if I could outrun a cerberus, would you let me join you?"
Aedth turned to Moorgué, who shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't see why they shouldn't agree to that. Aedth turned around, facing the zombie mage once again. "You know what? Letting you race against only one ceberus, just doesn't seem fair. We'll let you run against five ceberus, and if you can outrun any one of them, we'll let you join our forces, deal?"
"A deal" the zombie mage replied with a smile. "But might I request that you bring along five, no six ghosts as well as the five ceberi?"
"For what reason?" Aedth asked wonderingly. "You think you can outrun a ghost?"
"No, that's not the case. But I figured the ghosts, with their transparent appearance, could stand side by side forming the starting line."
"A strange request, but fair enough. Just to be able to watch you humiliating yourself, we will bring five ceberi and six ghost back here" Aedth replied.
Aedth and Moorgué returned to the club footed zombie with the ghosts and the ceberi. As suggested by the zombie, the ghosts were lined up in a row, with their arms stretched out, reaching each other. The zombie and ceberi, each took place in front a ghost. Aedth raised his arm to signal for the race to begin, and in that same time, Moorgué noticed how the lips of the zombie moved in way, as if he was muttering some sort of spell. He couldn't determine which spell though. Aedth lowered his arm, giving signal for the competitors to begin the race. Each of the six passed through the transparent ghost, with such an ease, as if they were mere air. All of the ceberi had a good start, but soon the club footed zombie mage, caught up with the ceberi, passed them all and eventually came in first.
Aedth came to the finishing line, where the zombie awaited them. Moorgué had told Aedth about the spell muttering and Aedth was furious with the zombie. "You've tricked us!" he shouted.
Moorgué on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. Clearly the zombie wasn't quite sure how to react to those accusations. "Indeed you did. I believe you cast some sort of spell upon the ceberi before start, and using the ghosts to age your opponents was quite a cleaver trick. Clearly we'd underestimated you. You're obviously stronger than you appear. You know what? I think we should let you join us, but in return, you should teach me that spell you casted."
The zombie looked at Aedth. His facial expression was beginning to change. The fury calmed. Instead he began laughing. "Moorgué, I think you're right. Anyone who can pull off a trick like that, is worthy of joining Tarkin's army."
Baron Von Tarkin's financial advisor came to Moorgué and Aedth with a troubled expression on his face. "The city's wealth is almost gone.."
Aedth raised his eyebrows "What do you mean, almost gone? I checked it just last week and it was almost full of gold at that time."
"Well yes, but the Baron has ordered quite a lot of gold send to him lately.." The advisor was clearly afraid of being punished for his bad news.
Aedth sighed. And with a worried expression, he stated, "Obviously Tarkin must be trying to buy a large amount of troops. I knew he should have brought more men along. If this continues much longer, he's gonna spend all the gold, in his quest for that book."
"Clearly he has no idea of the large amount of gold he's wasting away" Moorgué added. "How are we supposed to wage war without any money?"
Aedth looked at the advisor and then at Moorgué. "That's our problem, not his."
Moorgué shook his head. "But it will be, once he finds out he's spend all his wealth"
"Well, you just go ahead and inform him about the lack of gold, if you feel up for it. But there's a reason why the advisor chose to tell us, rather than sending a letter off to Tarkin."
The advisor just looked at Moorgué without saying a word. But his facial expression said enough. Now Moorgué didn't know Tarkin nearly as well as Aedth did, but clearly he was right. Oh, the advantages of being ruler. Leaving others to take care of your problems. Surely the task he had presented them with just seemed to get harder and harder, Moorgué thought to himself.
Aedth looked at the advisor who just had been standing, without saying anything. "Was there anything else?" he asked.
"Well, just one more thing" the advisor said. "Tarkin has demanded yet another shipment of gold sent off to him, but I fear that the city's money supply isn't enough.."
"How much is he demanding?" asked Aedth. The advisor handed the letter to Aedth. After reading it, he looked at the advisor. "We don't even have that much gold left?"
"I'm afraid not."
Aedth sighed deeply. And after a few minutes of thinking he had come up with a solution. "Okay, write him a letter telling him that, due to the risk of the money getting robbed on the way, we'll split it into ten shipments."
Up ahead, was a small canyon. A few ghosts appeared with a bit of information about this area, brought to them by Restinur. Apparently a group of old-aged Nightmares roamed in this canyon. Aedth just snorted at this information. Why did the spy Restinur even bother, sending a group of ghost scouts out to inform them about some slow old horses.
"Nightmares are more than just ordinary horses" Moorgué said. "It's said that their stare is able to look into the soul of any living man, forcing him to face the fears of his worst nightmares, paralyzing him with terror. Thus earning them their names of Nightmares."
"Fortunately for us, we're no longer living, neither do we dream anymore" Aedth noted.
Moorgué haven't really thought about that until now, but it was true. He hadn't had a single dream since his transformation. And obviously the undead wouldn't be affected by their paralyzing gaze. But still, they shouldn't underestimate those nightmares.
Restinur had supplied Aedth and Moorgué with information about the Carstein family, who controlled this part of Korresan. Aedth took out the information. They were a family of ancient vampires and as all vampires, they possessed the ability to suck the life out of any living opponent. Nothing new in that, Aedth thought to himself. Furthermore they all had developed the ability to quickly heal any wounds they might recieve during battle. This made them particularly dangerous opponents. Vaclac, head of the family, even possessed the ability to hypnotize his enemies. Even the undead, who was otherwise immune to mind spells.
"What has he written about their weaknesses?" Moorgué asked.
"That's all it says" Aedth replied.
Moorgué frowned. Sure, it was nice of Restinur to make a list of valuable information they ought to know about their opponents, but the fact that he hadn't at the same time, been able to gather information about possible weaknesses, didn't exactly impress Moorgué. Oh well, it seemed they just had to defeat them the old fashion way.
Baron Von Tarkin and his companions surprised a small group of demons. The size of the group, clearly indicated that they needed to be able to travel quickly. They were undoubtedly down here in search of the demon book.
"I presume you seek, that which is rightfully mine" Tarkin said to the group's leader, a male demon.
With a deep voice, the demon answered "I have no idea what you're talking about and we have no account with you, but if you stand in our way, we will not hesitate to kill you."
"Don't play dumb with me" Tarkin snapped. "I know from a reliable source, that you are looking for a book called The Demonary."
The demon hesitated for a moment, after which he produced a small smile. "Even if the book were to exist, it wouldn't do you much good. For I doubt that you are able to read ancient Kreegan" laughed the demon.
"I see" Tarkin nodded. "But you are ..?" The demon didn't answer that. "Why don't you help me? If you join me, I will reward you with wealth and titles. A rank in my army and maybe even some land. That's a better deal than the one you have with the Carstein family."
"Why should we accept your offer? With that book in my possession, I can release my kind from the bunch of bloodsuckers. Ha, I'll even be able to claim the throne of this wasteland."
"Fool! Don't you know that it was I, who killed Maximillian Devlos! I rule this nation! And I claim that book!" Tarkin yelled. "My men and I greatly outnumber you and your pitiful search team. If there is just the least bit of sense in you, you'll accept my offer. This is your last chance. Join me or be eradicated!"
The demon laughed once more. "My sense tells me that I should stick to my own plan. We do not know fear. Not even if we're outnumbered." His facial expression changed. "But we know of anger! And I will crush all of your bones, for your insult!"
Not all of the demons seemed as eager as their leader, who had already drawn his weapon. They seemed to be in doubt. Should they accept Tarkin's proposal while there was still time? Tarkin smiled to himself on the inside. Restinur was right. The demons were so divided, that they were willing to betray their own kind for wealth or a rank in the enemy army, if it was greater than their own. Once he was in possession of the book, he would hardly need to spend much time fighting the demons in his nation.
"I see that you carry the Carstein family banner!" Baron Von Tarkin shouted to a female vampire, who led a small group of troops. "I am Baron Von Tarkin, declared ruler of Korresan. Your Lord has refused to acknowledge me as your ruler, but I am willing to ignore that. If you swear allegiance to me and join my army, I shall spare you."
"I guess the Lord you refer to, is my father.." the vampire replied with a bold smile. "And I'm not going to oppose his refusal. You see, I am quite familiar with the story that you killed the former ruler of Korresan, more than two decades ago. And now, after all these years, you expect us to bow before you and join you in a war against Channon? My father was right. You must be mad!" she yelled back, in a mocking tone. "But I'll be happy to put your dusty old bones to rest forever and then my family may claim your part of Korresan!"
Tarkin's right hand was clutching hard around his sceptre. No one should mock the rightful ruler of Korresan in such a way.
When Baron Von Tarkin arrived at Sandor's mansion, he was greeted by a female demon. She watched Tarkin's entourage from the door and quickly realized that he probably had come to defeat Sandor.
"Are you seeking the Demonary?" asked the demon as she cast a nervous glance inside the mansion.
"So the book does exist?" Tarkin said slightly surprised.
The demon nodded. "Sandor keeps me as his slave. If you kill him and promised me a rank in your army, I'll show you the book's true potential."
Baron Von Tarkin agreed to let Vilexica take place in his army as soon as Sandor was dead. And should she turn out to be deceiving Tarkin, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
Sandor had seen Baron Von Tarkin come. He stood with a book in front of him and recited the following: "Kanda! Estrata! Amantos! Kanda! Amandat! Nosferatos! Amendon! Akadiv! Kanda!" Seconds later, a minor army of demons had been summoned.
Sandor had no more than just dropped dead after Baron Von Tarkin had proved just how strong his magic powers really was, before Vilexica had wrested the Demonary book out of his dead hands and stood and regarded the book, she had brought to this new world years ago. And she only so briefly had been allowed to possess.
Baron Von Tarkin stood for a while, from a short distance and watched how Vilexica admiringly studied and almost caressed the book, as if it was her most precious possession. It might have been, once. Tarkin calmly walked over to her and reached out for the book, without saying a word. She looked at him with slightly greedy eyes as she clutched the book in her hands. If Tarkin had lungs, he would probably have exhausted a deep, slightly impatient, sigh. But as it were, he no longer did. Instead, he stretched his long bony arm all the way out, while he held his left hand open in front Vilexica.
"Give me the book."
It was like Vilexica had woken from a trance, when she looked up at Baron Von Tarkin. She handed him the book.
"I didn't mean to .."
"You offered to teach me about the powers and abilities of this book, if I were to kill Sandor. Now I offer you a place in my army. A title of Commander if you wish. If you'd rather have your freedom and wealth, you will be given that. But if you approach this book without my knowledge, or I arouse suspicion that you intend to betray me, I will not hesitate to kill you, Vilexica."
Vilexica bowed reverently. "I gratefully thank you for you offer and owe you my freedom. I would never dream of betraying you. Instead, I shall serve you as best I can, my Lord."
Baron Von Tarkin packed the book away and opened a portal back to Trakash.
When the Baron once again found himself above ground, with the book in his possession, he summoned Moorgué and Aedth, in order to be updated about the developments in the battle against the other warlords. He was not particularly satisfied with their excuses, that they met more resistance than expected and that the area was so barren it was difficult for them to gather the resources necessary to wage war. Had the once so luxuriant Korresan really become as barren and desolate as they described it?
He had to admit that he had spent most of the past several years in his castle in Trakash and thus had not kept up with the way the land had evolved. How could it be, that he as a ruler, no longer possessed enormous wealth? Had it all just slowly dwindled away? He began to realize that he had done nothing all these years. Despite the fact that he had defeated the former ruler, he had let other warlords gain a foothold and in time, each of them had acquired their own part of Korresan, which they now ruled.
The gold which the Kreegans paid the vampire family to protect them, was gold that should have been his. It was about at this moment that Tarkin realized, that if his plan to overthrow Rylos and conquer Channon were to succeed, he had to strike hard and fast. As he rode out into the wastelands of Korresan, he thought about what preparations that had to be made, before he would embark against Channon. He knew that the preparation would be important, because he could not accept a failed attempt of conquest. In addition, he had already wasted enough time, during all these years.
Count and Countess Rigor and Mortise had sent a messenger in the form of a zombie, which came with their desire to capitulate, on condition that Baron Von Tarkin would spare them. They were willing to surrender the rest of their armies. All they wanted in return was an estate and a little land. Baron Von Tarkin decided to decline the conditions of their surrender. He ordered two skeletons to retain the messenger as he scratched a Holy Word spell into the chest of the zombie and cut off one hand. The spell would weaken the messenger so much, that he would be dead before the week had passed. But that ought to be time enough for him to go home to his master, with a response that should be clearly understood.
Since Baron Von Tarkin had succeeded bringing Rigor and Mortise to their knees, he might as well crush the last of their troops and set an example. After all, he had given them the offer several months ago, but they had chosen to battle rather than surrender. Now they had to face the consequences of their choice.
Baron Von Tarkin had succeeded to uphold his position as ruler of the wasteland, Korresan. All opponents in the area had either been defeated or forced to its knees.
The vampire family, the Von Carsteins, who puree had refused to acknowledge Von Tarkin as their ruler and also had the audacity to call him a madman when he had aired his plans to attack Channon and topple Rylos had sealed their own fate.
Count and Countess Rigor and Mortise first came to their senses when they found themselves greatly outnumbered at their last thinly guarded fortress.
Once the Kreegan demons realized that the Von Carstein family no longer were able to offer them protection, they didn't hesitate to surrender and acknowledge Von Tarkin as their ruler. To the amazement of many of Tarkin's men, also including Aedth and Moorgué, the demons had now become part of Tarkin's army. There was something in their unconditional surrender, which had amused Tarkin. The demons were so desperate, they would stab one of their own, just to save their own skin. And it was that desperation Tarkin had sensed. He basically didn't care about the Kreegans, but their willingness to fight for their survival, could prove extremely useful. There had been a drastic development since the Kreegans heyday in the old world and now. They were weak, disorganized and treacherous towards each other. The entertainment value of seeing their behaviour was yet another reason why Baron Von Tarkin had accepted their submission.
Baron Von Tarkin now only lacked to complete the final preparations before he could begin his conquest of the nation of Channon.
I'm silent in seven languages - and I got all my familys fear.
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
Everytime you throw dirt, you loose a little ground
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