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Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos: The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)
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<blockquote data-quote="Canaan" data-source="post: 2820238" data-attributes="member: 40239"><p><strong>Chapter 4: The Circle</strong></p><p></p><p>Chapter 4: The Circle </p><p></p><p>Save for Shale’s quiet incantation, and the soft humming of countless invisible crickets, all was quiet. I tightened my grip on the hilt of my mace and tried to relax enough to land a clear strike to the first goblin or boar head that showed itself. </p><p></p><p>The tall grass shimmered as if latticed with dew and began to twist and curl under Shale’s command. A voice, parched and hoarse, cried out from the overgrowth.</p><p></p><p>“Shale!” it called. “It’s me! Gabriel!” </p><p></p><p>Shale fell out of his trance. He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the direction of the sound, alert and tense. </p><p></p><p>“Gabriel?” he asked with more than a hint of suspiciousness. He moved closer to the source of the sound. I moved up just a pace or two closer the Druid, my mace pulled up over my head. Shale pulled the grass aside. Tied up in dozens of warped green and yellow strands sat a very annoyed, blonde haired, blue-eyed man, garbed in simple brown traveling clothes. Shale immediately smiled at the sight, uttered a single word and the grass released him. </p><p></p><p>Gabriel stood, his scowl vanished and he fell into Shale with a big, warm, fraternal embrace. Shale returned the hug, but added in a whisper. </p><p></p><p>“Why did you come out here without me?” </p><p></p><p>Gabriel sighed. “It was Lilian. She believed time was of the essence.” </p><p></p><p>“Then I will have words with her.” Answered Shale. </p><p></p><p>The reunion was cut short by a shout. </p><p></p><p>“Damn!” Gabriel growled. “More of them!” </p><p></p><p>Eerie, high pitched chattering and shouts filled the air. It was followed swiftly by the telltale clash of metal against metal. </p><p></p><p>Gabriel ran ahead. I left my donkey tethered as I followed him and Shale into the tall grass. The sounds of battle drew nearer with every step. My palms and brow dripped thin tributaries of anxious sweat. Boars were frightening enough, now we were about to face a hoard of rampaging goblins! </p><p></p><p>I fought down my mind’s every attempt to swallow me up with fear and I plunged forward through the grass, Shale and Gabriel but a few paces ahead of me. We emerged into a clearing that was alive with the chaos of a violent skirmish. </p><p></p><p>I was instantly beset by four of the gray-hued, flat-faced creatures bearing horrid gray fangs and crude axes, clubs and swords. I called upon Canaan to show me his Divine Favor, and my mace glowed with His Eternal Justice as I struck down the first goblin to cross my path. </p><p></p><p>Round, mystical bolts of energy flew from the hands of frail Aesendal. They leveled two of the marauding creatures. </p><p></p><p>The pale frame of Hu Li chanted on the edge of the clearing, his hands and fingers writhing in complicated contortions. A moment later, a haloed hound appeared in the middle of three of the goblins, snapping and pawing at them. It caught one by the throat and wrestled it down to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Lilian’s long, golden hair, reflected the soft blue moonlight as she limped toward a clump of goblins, deftly brandishing her sword. Her leg, still bandaged from the impaling, was stiffly dragged along. If she was in any pain, her face showed none of it. An aura of hope emanated from her like the first spring thaw after a dreadful winter.</p><p></p><p>Talon and Gabriel effortlessly grappled and flung several goblins into each other. The ghastly cracks of shattering bones combined with the goblin’s high-pitched battle cries.</p><p></p><p>Shale appeared beside me, readying his own weapon, a weapon I had never seen him use until this moment. Though it remained sheathed at his belt, I scantly recall even taking notice of it. It reflected moonlight as it cleaved a hapless goblin in twain. The blade, slightly curved at the end, was brandished with the same eloquence and poetry of Lilian’s impressive swordsmanship. </p><p></p><p>A moment later, those few goblins who had survived the initial fray, dropped their weapons and fled. </p><p></p><p>The blazing, enchanted hound vanished, its celestial light along with it, and the clearing was plunged into the dim blues of moon and star light. </p><p></p><p>Shale was met with gracious, brotherly embraces from everyone, even Hu Li.</p><p></p><p>Finally, with an outstretched hand, Shale introduced me, “This is Evora Faro.” Lilian’s eyes fell on my symbol of Canaan. </p><p></p><p>“You’re a priest of Canaan?” She asked, hope pouring from her voice.</p><p></p><p>“Yes.” I simply replied. </p><p></p><p>“Good!” Snapped Hu Li. “Then you can call upon your beloved deity to mend her bum leg! Just, please, don’t start preaching. It’s been bad enough out here.” </p><p></p><p>A fire was stoked. The travelers sat around it, warming themselves as they could. Tales of travels, of Jazzad, of the rabid boars and the hoard of goblins were shared as I prayed to Canaan, asking for his healing grace to smile upon his champion, the fair, the chaste and the beautiful Lilian Evenshire. His Wonderfulness answered and her bones mended, her flesh healed and she could once again walk without any added exertion. </p><p></p><p>I did what I could to salve the scrapes and bruises suffered by the others in the battle. </p><p></p><p>Talon refused any aid from me, insisting that his faith in the Green would suffice. He folded into a lotus position, closed his eyes and became very still. For the remainder of the evening, he did not utter a single word. He remained perfectly still, warmed and lit by the small fire, his eyes and soul shut away from the world. </p><p></p><p>Gabriel suffered numerous wounds from the goblins’ fanatical attack. When I first approached him, he, like Talon, wished no help, but his sister convinced him otherwise. </p><p></p><p>“He is a Priest.” She told him. “He is here to help. That is the only thing that concerns him. This has nothing to do with you, Gabriel. Cease your stubbornness and accept his aid.” </p><p></p><p>Gabriel acquiesced. I bound his wounds and lay a simple blessing upon him that went but a small way toward entirely relieving his pain. He remained tense in my presence, as if standing in wait for some horrible blow to befall him that he must be ready to parry. I refrained from inquiring why my presence so upset him. I simply let him be. </p><p></p><p>Both Arcanists, The Acolyte Hu Li and Aesendal emerged from the skirmish unscathed, having spent its entirety lobbing their evocations from a distance. Though the two shared a talent for the Art, I quickly learned that evening that their outlooks, approaches, and theoretical foundations were diametrically opposed. </p><p></p><p>“Lore!” Hu Li preached “That is where the truth lies. All that is known is already known and has been committed by those who have the capacity to understand the true nature of reality in esoteric tomes….”</p><p></p><p>“But that does not explain me.” Aesendal interrupted. “I learned nothing from ancient, dusty books. My talents come… naturally. Yes, my magic may not be as versatile as yours, Hu Li, but…”</p><p></p><p>“That is because you practice… polluted… magics!” Hu Li scolded. </p><p></p><p>Everyone laughed. Hu Li harrumphed and retreated to his rolled out blanket. He crossed his legs, took up one of his thick, cumbersome books and read. The outburst failed to disturb Talon, who continued his meditation unabated before the dwindling fire. </p><p></p><p>I found myself staring at Hu Li. My curiosity had been tweaked. Perhaps he would be able to lead me through the first steps toward becoming an Urgic Mystic. I thanked Canaan for bringing me to this eccentric, belligerent, spirit.</p><p></p><p>A hand on my shoulder broke the enchantment. Lilian’s verdant eyes smiled at me. “I am glad you are here.” She said. “Where Shale has the knowledge to show us the way through the Wildlands, you have the faith that will insure we will arrive safely.”</p><p></p><p>I swallowed at the thought. Such faith she should have in a total stranger, but I fought down the idea until it was crushed into dust and scattered to the four winds. She was a champion of Canaan, and I was His earthly emissary. I had a duty to perform which had nothing to do with me. Canaan had brought me here. That was all either one of us needed to accept. </p><p></p><p>Lilian blessed me with the story of her and Gabriel’s childhood. Their father, Lord Eladrin Evenshire, was as devout and pure as a champion of Canaan could be. He spent his many years in service to the Church seeking servants of the Adversary and routing out its wicked schemes. It was said that Canaan so blessed Lord Evenshire that a Holy Emissary of Canaan, one of His Celestial Host personally watched over him. That Emissary, Cilestrial, saw in the young champion, a pure and gentle heart, a compassionate disposition, a just will, and a righteous fury. </p><p></p><p>When Eladrin’s wife, Lady Amila Evenshire, became pregnant, Cilestrial came to him, an ethereal angel dressed in white and enshrouded in a shimmering halo. Her golden celestial wings spread and unfurled encompassing the whole of the Champion’s vision. The Angel gave him this message: </p><p></p><p>“I come bearing glad tidings! You have been gifted with a family! Care for them for they will be champions of Canaan. Watch and guide them for they are mortal and possess free will. Though the path of good comes naturally they shall not be immune to the intoxicating calls of corruption. They shall be blessed with strength, wisdom and beauty, but such virtues are quickly sullied in the absence of unending vigilance.” </p><p></p><p>Shortly thereafter, Lord Evenshire retired from campaigning and spent his days at his estate, taking a more academic position with the Church. Lord and Lady Evenshire taught the children well and were not surprised that good, honesty and selflessness came naturally to them. Still, a little dishonesty and a tantrum or two reminded them that they indeed were possessed of a mortal spirit and were not infallible. Eladrin was content. Canaan had blessed him with a good and loving family. </p><p></p><p>“When we were still very young....” Lilian began, her voice weakening slightly. </p><p></p><p>Gabriel looked over to her, and then to me.</p><p></p><p>“Lilian, please.” He interrupted. “You have said enough. Let the Priest be. And let our past be.” </p><p></p><p>His voice trailed off on the last utterance. Lilian’s features hardened, but remained kind. Gabriel turned away, shaking his head. He dug at the ground with a finger. Lilian continued her story.</p><p></p><p>“When we were but six, our parents left us. My father told us he and my mother had something very important to do for the Church. They never returned.” </p><p></p><p>“How awful.” It was all I could think of to say in the silence that followed. </p><p></p><p>“Indeed, it was.” She answered. Her voice was both breathy and weighted. “They are presumed dead. We were raised in the Church in Soliel, then I was transferred to serve at Goldfire Glen, within the walls of Underhill Keep. Gabriel came with me. Our birthright, our family’s estate, was turned over to the Church. One day I will reclaim it. I will command an army of Canaanite champions and we will protect Turgos from any and all machinations of the Adversary.” </p><p></p><p>Her voice was as crisp and clear as the air after a warm spring rain. It was not difficult to imagine her commanding great, gleaming waves of armored men who stand in opposition to voracious malevolence. </p><p></p><p>“I wish only to be at your side when such a day comes.” I told her, awed by the vision her story awoke in me. </p><p></p><p>Gabriel turned back around. Their eyes locked for a long, silent moment. At last, Gabriel nodded and smiled. She returned it.</p><p></p><p>“Welcome, Evora.” Gabriel said, eyes still on his sister. “Welcome, Priest of Canaan.” He stood and moved over to his blanket and lay down. Lilian looked over to me.</p><p></p><p>“He likes very few.” She said with a smirk. “I can tell he likes you.”</p><p></p><p>Without any official word or ceremony, I was invited into the circle. I never felt more welcomed anywhere in my life. </p><p></p><p></p><p>* * * *</p><p></p><p>As I sit on this rocky ship heading to the dreadful isle of Demon Claw, I just now realize it has been several weeks since the events I am committing to paper. So much has happened that I find it hard to recall every detail. The whole of their tale, up to that point was told from each their own limited and fractured points of view. </p><p></p><p>Writing it all down is proving to be an effective means to unlock the bound doors of memory and flooding in the light of recollection, illuminating much of the details previously confined to enshrouding mists. </p><p></p><p>While this is a minor point and has little relevance to the rest of this tale, I now recall that Shale and I tried to visit Balian's Tower before we went to Goldfire Glen. </p><p></p><p>As I said, it matters not, but for geography, for Balian's Tower is a full day's journey South of Goldfire Glen, while the road one takes from Goldfire Glen to get near The Wildlands, which winds along the river that feeds that village, is due West of Goldfire Glen. Perhaps senility is setting in, even at my tender age, or perhaps it is merely the oppressive stresses of my recent trials and tribulations.</p><p></p><p>No matter. But while on the subject of geography, I suppose this would be a good time to inform the reader, you, a bit about Turgos as it existed at the time of this writing.</p><p></p><p>Goldfire Glen is a small but significant agricultural community in what many citizens refer to as the "breadbasket of Turgos." Farms abound among the rolling hills and plains near Goldfire Glen. More than a mere village, Goldfire Glen is in fact a Barony, one of many in the County of Auros, the capital of which is the Town of Auros, where Duke and Duchess Devonhilt reside. </p><p></p><p>The County of Auros is one of seven counties that make up the Kingdom of Turgos, the capital of which is Soliel. Auros lies to the North of Goldfire Glen about a week's journey and Soliel lies to the East and North of Auros about a week's journey. Soliel is a port city with the vast Altisanum Sea (Sea of Unknown Depth) to the East of it. </p><p></p><p>Far to the south of Goldfire Glen, beyond the southernmost edge of the County of Auros, and the southern counties below that, is the Kingdom of Shuuth. Shuuth is an arid, desert land populated with demon worshipping pagans. Its harsh, stoic and exotic peoples bear skin the color of tree bark and, it is said, shamelessly attire themselves in thin, translucent, billowing silks that reveal far more flesh than they obscure. Some say their harshness is merely a shield hiding a delightful and jovial race. I find that hard to believe given the powers they worship. It is written that the deities of Shuuth are the corrupted, enslaving Sleeping Gods who Canaan banished long ago. Most horrid, most foul, most unwise for these people to take refuge in such depravity! </p><p></p><p>The North of Turgos is a mountainous land, rumored to be a place of succor for outlaws and other unfortunates, where profiteers mine iron, gold, silver and precious stones. It is said that whole nations of a people referred to as Dwarves reside in those mountains. Though I have known men and women of diminutive stature, to claim they are an entirely foreign race is preposterous and insulting. They are still human. They are still the beloved Creation of Canaan! </p><p></p><p>The Wildlands, the vast, untamed wilderness where Shale, myself and the others are traveling in the part of our story that this journal currently records, runs along the western border of Turgos and is bordered on the north by the foothills of the Blackrock Mountains and on the south by Mistmarsh Lake. It remains unclear what lies to the west of The Wildlands. Nobody has journeyed all the way through The Wildlands and returned. It is a land devoted to The Green and it separates the civilized lands of Turgos from what lays beyond it. </p><p></p><p>It is somewhere near the heart of these stunningly beautiful and serene land that the ancient temple of destruction and evil, Rappan’Athuk, rests. </p><p></p><p>Rappan’Athuk is a blight on the land, a place so vile that it gives pause to the heartiest warrior. It is a place of nightmares, the subject of bedtime stories told to keep children on their best behavior. Dark rituals dedicated to the most depraved of beings are said to have been performed at this place long, long ago. When the church of Canaan learned of its presence, it convinced then King George III of Turgos to join his armies with those of the church to cleanse this abomination. Thousands of soldiers entered The Wildlands. Only three returned. </p><p></p><p>No coherent report could be gleaned from the survivors as they had all been driven mad by whatever unspeakable horrors they witnessed. Had the Voice and Will of Canaan not informed the Curia that the raid was a total failure, none would have ever known. </p><p></p><p>I have since been privy to truths of that doomed crusade that the Curia would prefer to be left unknown. The Wildlands was trampled under the weight of the armies of Soliel. The wound they left has yet to fully heal. In that time, the Curia ordered and carried out a vicious and cruel oppression of all denizens of the Green in the name of Canaan. Countless innocents were mercilessly burned at the stake for heresy and other preposterous unfounded transgressions. </p><p></p><p>Much later in this tale, Shale, returned to us after his untimely death, reincarnated as a creature unlike any I have ever seen, was granted the vision of the horrors of which I just wrote. He now calls himself Shallahai. He bears a scimitar infused with the power of the Green. He professes to be the Green’s Answer. I have no reason to doubt him. It was his very vision that set me on the path I now fully embrace. </p><p></p><p>Forgive the digression. Let us return to the story at hand.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Canaan, post: 2820238, member: 40239"] [b]Chapter 4: The Circle[/b] Chapter 4: The Circle Save for Shale’s quiet incantation, and the soft humming of countless invisible crickets, all was quiet. I tightened my grip on the hilt of my mace and tried to relax enough to land a clear strike to the first goblin or boar head that showed itself. The tall grass shimmered as if latticed with dew and began to twist and curl under Shale’s command. A voice, parched and hoarse, cried out from the overgrowth. “Shale!” it called. “It’s me! Gabriel!” Shale fell out of his trance. He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the direction of the sound, alert and tense. “Gabriel?” he asked with more than a hint of suspiciousness. He moved closer to the source of the sound. I moved up just a pace or two closer the Druid, my mace pulled up over my head. Shale pulled the grass aside. Tied up in dozens of warped green and yellow strands sat a very annoyed, blonde haired, blue-eyed man, garbed in simple brown traveling clothes. Shale immediately smiled at the sight, uttered a single word and the grass released him. Gabriel stood, his scowl vanished and he fell into Shale with a big, warm, fraternal embrace. Shale returned the hug, but added in a whisper. “Why did you come out here without me?” Gabriel sighed. “It was Lilian. She believed time was of the essence.” “Then I will have words with her.” Answered Shale. The reunion was cut short by a shout. “Damn!” Gabriel growled. “More of them!” Eerie, high pitched chattering and shouts filled the air. It was followed swiftly by the telltale clash of metal against metal. Gabriel ran ahead. I left my donkey tethered as I followed him and Shale into the tall grass. The sounds of battle drew nearer with every step. My palms and brow dripped thin tributaries of anxious sweat. Boars were frightening enough, now we were about to face a hoard of rampaging goblins! I fought down my mind’s every attempt to swallow me up with fear and I plunged forward through the grass, Shale and Gabriel but a few paces ahead of me. We emerged into a clearing that was alive with the chaos of a violent skirmish. I was instantly beset by four of the gray-hued, flat-faced creatures bearing horrid gray fangs and crude axes, clubs and swords. I called upon Canaan to show me his Divine Favor, and my mace glowed with His Eternal Justice as I struck down the first goblin to cross my path. Round, mystical bolts of energy flew from the hands of frail Aesendal. They leveled two of the marauding creatures. The pale frame of Hu Li chanted on the edge of the clearing, his hands and fingers writhing in complicated contortions. A moment later, a haloed hound appeared in the middle of three of the goblins, snapping and pawing at them. It caught one by the throat and wrestled it down to the ground. Lilian’s long, golden hair, reflected the soft blue moonlight as she limped toward a clump of goblins, deftly brandishing her sword. Her leg, still bandaged from the impaling, was stiffly dragged along. If she was in any pain, her face showed none of it. An aura of hope emanated from her like the first spring thaw after a dreadful winter. Talon and Gabriel effortlessly grappled and flung several goblins into each other. The ghastly cracks of shattering bones combined with the goblin’s high-pitched battle cries. Shale appeared beside me, readying his own weapon, a weapon I had never seen him use until this moment. Though it remained sheathed at his belt, I scantly recall even taking notice of it. It reflected moonlight as it cleaved a hapless goblin in twain. The blade, slightly curved at the end, was brandished with the same eloquence and poetry of Lilian’s impressive swordsmanship. A moment later, those few goblins who had survived the initial fray, dropped their weapons and fled. The blazing, enchanted hound vanished, its celestial light along with it, and the clearing was plunged into the dim blues of moon and star light. Shale was met with gracious, brotherly embraces from everyone, even Hu Li. Finally, with an outstretched hand, Shale introduced me, “This is Evora Faro.” Lilian’s eyes fell on my symbol of Canaan. “You’re a priest of Canaan?” She asked, hope pouring from her voice. “Yes.” I simply replied. “Good!” Snapped Hu Li. “Then you can call upon your beloved deity to mend her bum leg! Just, please, don’t start preaching. It’s been bad enough out here.” A fire was stoked. The travelers sat around it, warming themselves as they could. Tales of travels, of Jazzad, of the rabid boars and the hoard of goblins were shared as I prayed to Canaan, asking for his healing grace to smile upon his champion, the fair, the chaste and the beautiful Lilian Evenshire. His Wonderfulness answered and her bones mended, her flesh healed and she could once again walk without any added exertion. I did what I could to salve the scrapes and bruises suffered by the others in the battle. Talon refused any aid from me, insisting that his faith in the Green would suffice. He folded into a lotus position, closed his eyes and became very still. For the remainder of the evening, he did not utter a single word. He remained perfectly still, warmed and lit by the small fire, his eyes and soul shut away from the world. Gabriel suffered numerous wounds from the goblins’ fanatical attack. When I first approached him, he, like Talon, wished no help, but his sister convinced him otherwise. “He is a Priest.” She told him. “He is here to help. That is the only thing that concerns him. This has nothing to do with you, Gabriel. Cease your stubbornness and accept his aid.” Gabriel acquiesced. I bound his wounds and lay a simple blessing upon him that went but a small way toward entirely relieving his pain. He remained tense in my presence, as if standing in wait for some horrible blow to befall him that he must be ready to parry. I refrained from inquiring why my presence so upset him. I simply let him be. Both Arcanists, The Acolyte Hu Li and Aesendal emerged from the skirmish unscathed, having spent its entirety lobbing their evocations from a distance. Though the two shared a talent for the Art, I quickly learned that evening that their outlooks, approaches, and theoretical foundations were diametrically opposed. “Lore!” Hu Li preached “That is where the truth lies. All that is known is already known and has been committed by those who have the capacity to understand the true nature of reality in esoteric tomes….” “But that does not explain me.” Aesendal interrupted. “I learned nothing from ancient, dusty books. My talents come… naturally. Yes, my magic may not be as versatile as yours, Hu Li, but…” “That is because you practice… polluted… magics!” Hu Li scolded. Everyone laughed. Hu Li harrumphed and retreated to his rolled out blanket. He crossed his legs, took up one of his thick, cumbersome books and read. The outburst failed to disturb Talon, who continued his meditation unabated before the dwindling fire. I found myself staring at Hu Li. My curiosity had been tweaked. Perhaps he would be able to lead me through the first steps toward becoming an Urgic Mystic. I thanked Canaan for bringing me to this eccentric, belligerent, spirit. A hand on my shoulder broke the enchantment. Lilian’s verdant eyes smiled at me. “I am glad you are here.” She said. “Where Shale has the knowledge to show us the way through the Wildlands, you have the faith that will insure we will arrive safely.” I swallowed at the thought. Such faith she should have in a total stranger, but I fought down the idea until it was crushed into dust and scattered to the four winds. She was a champion of Canaan, and I was His earthly emissary. I had a duty to perform which had nothing to do with me. Canaan had brought me here. That was all either one of us needed to accept. Lilian blessed me with the story of her and Gabriel’s childhood. Their father, Lord Eladrin Evenshire, was as devout and pure as a champion of Canaan could be. He spent his many years in service to the Church seeking servants of the Adversary and routing out its wicked schemes. It was said that Canaan so blessed Lord Evenshire that a Holy Emissary of Canaan, one of His Celestial Host personally watched over him. That Emissary, Cilestrial, saw in the young champion, a pure and gentle heart, a compassionate disposition, a just will, and a righteous fury. When Eladrin’s wife, Lady Amila Evenshire, became pregnant, Cilestrial came to him, an ethereal angel dressed in white and enshrouded in a shimmering halo. Her golden celestial wings spread and unfurled encompassing the whole of the Champion’s vision. The Angel gave him this message: “I come bearing glad tidings! You have been gifted with a family! Care for them for they will be champions of Canaan. Watch and guide them for they are mortal and possess free will. Though the path of good comes naturally they shall not be immune to the intoxicating calls of corruption. They shall be blessed with strength, wisdom and beauty, but such virtues are quickly sullied in the absence of unending vigilance.” Shortly thereafter, Lord Evenshire retired from campaigning and spent his days at his estate, taking a more academic position with the Church. Lord and Lady Evenshire taught the children well and were not surprised that good, honesty and selflessness came naturally to them. Still, a little dishonesty and a tantrum or two reminded them that they indeed were possessed of a mortal spirit and were not infallible. Eladrin was content. Canaan had blessed him with a good and loving family. “When we were still very young....” Lilian began, her voice weakening slightly. Gabriel looked over to her, and then to me. “Lilian, please.” He interrupted. “You have said enough. Let the Priest be. And let our past be.” His voice trailed off on the last utterance. Lilian’s features hardened, but remained kind. Gabriel turned away, shaking his head. He dug at the ground with a finger. Lilian continued her story. “When we were but six, our parents left us. My father told us he and my mother had something very important to do for the Church. They never returned.” “How awful.” It was all I could think of to say in the silence that followed. “Indeed, it was.” She answered. Her voice was both breathy and weighted. “They are presumed dead. We were raised in the Church in Soliel, then I was transferred to serve at Goldfire Glen, within the walls of Underhill Keep. Gabriel came with me. Our birthright, our family’s estate, was turned over to the Church. One day I will reclaim it. I will command an army of Canaanite champions and we will protect Turgos from any and all machinations of the Adversary.” Her voice was as crisp and clear as the air after a warm spring rain. It was not difficult to imagine her commanding great, gleaming waves of armored men who stand in opposition to voracious malevolence. “I wish only to be at your side when such a day comes.” I told her, awed by the vision her story awoke in me. Gabriel turned back around. Their eyes locked for a long, silent moment. At last, Gabriel nodded and smiled. She returned it. “Welcome, Evora.” Gabriel said, eyes still on his sister. “Welcome, Priest of Canaan.” He stood and moved over to his blanket and lay down. Lilian looked over to me. “He likes very few.” She said with a smirk. “I can tell he likes you.” Without any official word or ceremony, I was invited into the circle. I never felt more welcomed anywhere in my life. * * * * As I sit on this rocky ship heading to the dreadful isle of Demon Claw, I just now realize it has been several weeks since the events I am committing to paper. So much has happened that I find it hard to recall every detail. The whole of their tale, up to that point was told from each their own limited and fractured points of view. Writing it all down is proving to be an effective means to unlock the bound doors of memory and flooding in the light of recollection, illuminating much of the details previously confined to enshrouding mists. While this is a minor point and has little relevance to the rest of this tale, I now recall that Shale and I tried to visit Balian's Tower before we went to Goldfire Glen. As I said, it matters not, but for geography, for Balian's Tower is a full day's journey South of Goldfire Glen, while the road one takes from Goldfire Glen to get near The Wildlands, which winds along the river that feeds that village, is due West of Goldfire Glen. Perhaps senility is setting in, even at my tender age, or perhaps it is merely the oppressive stresses of my recent trials and tribulations. No matter. But while on the subject of geography, I suppose this would be a good time to inform the reader, you, a bit about Turgos as it existed at the time of this writing. Goldfire Glen is a small but significant agricultural community in what many citizens refer to as the "breadbasket of Turgos." Farms abound among the rolling hills and plains near Goldfire Glen. More than a mere village, Goldfire Glen is in fact a Barony, one of many in the County of Auros, the capital of which is the Town of Auros, where Duke and Duchess Devonhilt reside. The County of Auros is one of seven counties that make up the Kingdom of Turgos, the capital of which is Soliel. Auros lies to the North of Goldfire Glen about a week's journey and Soliel lies to the East and North of Auros about a week's journey. Soliel is a port city with the vast Altisanum Sea (Sea of Unknown Depth) to the East of it. Far to the south of Goldfire Glen, beyond the southernmost edge of the County of Auros, and the southern counties below that, is the Kingdom of Shuuth. Shuuth is an arid, desert land populated with demon worshipping pagans. Its harsh, stoic and exotic peoples bear skin the color of tree bark and, it is said, shamelessly attire themselves in thin, translucent, billowing silks that reveal far more flesh than they obscure. Some say their harshness is merely a shield hiding a delightful and jovial race. I find that hard to believe given the powers they worship. It is written that the deities of Shuuth are the corrupted, enslaving Sleeping Gods who Canaan banished long ago. Most horrid, most foul, most unwise for these people to take refuge in such depravity! The North of Turgos is a mountainous land, rumored to be a place of succor for outlaws and other unfortunates, where profiteers mine iron, gold, silver and precious stones. It is said that whole nations of a people referred to as Dwarves reside in those mountains. Though I have known men and women of diminutive stature, to claim they are an entirely foreign race is preposterous and insulting. They are still human. They are still the beloved Creation of Canaan! The Wildlands, the vast, untamed wilderness where Shale, myself and the others are traveling in the part of our story that this journal currently records, runs along the western border of Turgos and is bordered on the north by the foothills of the Blackrock Mountains and on the south by Mistmarsh Lake. It remains unclear what lies to the west of The Wildlands. Nobody has journeyed all the way through The Wildlands and returned. It is a land devoted to The Green and it separates the civilized lands of Turgos from what lays beyond it. It is somewhere near the heart of these stunningly beautiful and serene land that the ancient temple of destruction and evil, Rappan’Athuk, rests. Rappan’Athuk is a blight on the land, a place so vile that it gives pause to the heartiest warrior. It is a place of nightmares, the subject of bedtime stories told to keep children on their best behavior. Dark rituals dedicated to the most depraved of beings are said to have been performed at this place long, long ago. When the church of Canaan learned of its presence, it convinced then King George III of Turgos to join his armies with those of the church to cleanse this abomination. Thousands of soldiers entered The Wildlands. Only three returned. No coherent report could be gleaned from the survivors as they had all been driven mad by whatever unspeakable horrors they witnessed. Had the Voice and Will of Canaan not informed the Curia that the raid was a total failure, none would have ever known. I have since been privy to truths of that doomed crusade that the Curia would prefer to be left unknown. The Wildlands was trampled under the weight of the armies of Soliel. The wound they left has yet to fully heal. In that time, the Curia ordered and carried out a vicious and cruel oppression of all denizens of the Green in the name of Canaan. Countless innocents were mercilessly burned at the stake for heresy and other preposterous unfounded transgressions. Much later in this tale, Shale, returned to us after his untimely death, reincarnated as a creature unlike any I have ever seen, was granted the vision of the horrors of which I just wrote. He now calls himself Shallahai. He bears a scimitar infused with the power of the Green. He professes to be the Green’s Answer. I have no reason to doubt him. It was his very vision that set me on the path I now fully embrace. Forgive the digression. Let us return to the story at hand. [/QUOTE]
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Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos: The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)
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