Marius could tell that the mood was tense within Senator Gracchus’ villa. From what he had gathered the initial chaos of the Orcish Invasion of Emor had now moved from the “utter panic” phase, through the “desperate marshalling of resources” phase and was now settling in flux somewhere between “mourning the countless dead” and “recriminations and blame laying with a strong eye toward political gain” phases. It was almost enough to make one long for the simple desperation of doing battle against the demon-hordes of Hell. At least you knew where you stood with them.
At long last he was admitted to see the Senator. Gracchus looked tired and was fairly short tempered with his staff but managed a smile at Marius. “Sit down, my friend. I haven’t much time but I anxiously await whatever news you can bring from the north.”
Marius wondered whether this man truly considered him a friend or merely a political tool, a stance that many others had adopted of late. Regardless, they were allies for the time. “The tidings from the north are ill, Senator. Bane has broken free of his tomb in Hell but instead of returning to his place among the gods he has brought his brother, Bale, back to life. Bale is rampaging south toward the barbarian lands and I don’t think he plans to stop there.”
The Senator frowned, “Yes, I’d heard something of this from the Senate Liaison from the Church of St. Cuthbert. Is it really as bad as they say?”
Marius was dumbfounded but had to remind himself that this man dealt primarily with earthly, bureaucratic matters, not the prehistoric, reborn, brethren of dead gods, “Sir, he is a force of destruction the likes of which has not been seen since before the dawn of the Empire. He drinks in death and destruction like mothers milk and the very sound of his voice inspires murder in the hearts of men. I know. I’ve felt it. If he crushes the barbarians and finds his way south then our nation will live or die at his whim.”
Senator Gracchus stared in amazement, his mind just not quite capable of comprehending a force that could not be legislated away or defeated by the Imperial Legions. “Well…what should we do? We’ve already got a hostile army on our nation’s soil! Can this thing be killed?!”
Marius was pleased that at least the Senator seemed to want to help. From the sound of things all that Flavius, acting on his father’s behalf, was doing was being glad that it was the barbarians and not his people who were being hit by Bale. “We’re going to fight him. In the Northlands before he gets any further south. The Fodor Tribes are making a stand and my friends and I plan to stand with them. If you can send any aid at all then it would help. It may be a futile gesture but Bale is only going to grow stronger with each passing battle. If he defeats us there then there is little hope that you’ll triumph over him later.”
Gracchus’ eyes narrowed in concentration. “I’m not sure that there is much aid I can offer. It is too far for the Legions to be deployed there quickly and we’ve concentrated all our efforts on taking them OUT of the Northlands. We’re simply in no position to have them go back. I might be able to pull some strings with those at the Imperial War College to have some War Wizards get up there to aid in the battle. Beyond that I’m not sure I can offer any sort of help.” The Senator’s eyes darted back and forth as he struggled to think of other resources that could be brought to bear.
At least he’s trying, thought Marius. It’s more than I can say for most of the Senate. “Whatever you can send would be helpful, sir. As to the War College, I’ve got a friend there right now who’s trying to get help and hopefully he’ll have some luck…”
***************
Lazarius was having no luck at all getting aid from the War College. He’d managed to browbeat a junior Supply Clerk into opening the vault on the basis that Chancellor Felix was his mentor but he’d found it nearly stripped of useful magic items. A few scrolls and a half-charged wand were all he had managed to gain. The War College was very nearly abandoned with every apprentice who could conjure a Ray of Frost having been sent to aid in the battle against the Orcs.
Lazarius knew in his bones that this was no coincidence. The timing was too perfect. If the Legions had not invaded the Northlands to attack the barbarians then they’d have been able to repel the Orc invaders with relative ease. And that would have freed up a great many resources to bring against Bale.
And who had made the decision to invade the Northlands? Flavius. And who was his closest advisor? Senator Pontius. Who was married to…Solvaria.
Lazarius sat in the College Library, head in hands. “That greedy, power-hungry bitch I call my sister is going to destroy the entire Empire, if not the world!” He banged his fist on the table in frustration and stopped himself before he did it a second time.
DO NOT strike that table again. It is a useless gesture and a waste of time. Focus yourself like you were trained to do.
Now: What is my primary objective? Find a way to stop Bale.
Is there anything I can use from here that will help that cause? No material aid and little chance that I’ll be able to round up more than a token force from among the Chancellors. That leaves information.
Lazarius stood from the chair and walked toward the large desk that sat empty at the center of the Library. He began searching the Index volumes that sat atop it looking for any reference he could find to the Bloodstone Blade…
*********
Lazarius sat hunched behind a heap of discarded books and absently reached his hand out to grasp the mug that sat at the corner of the table. His eyes scanned the text before him as his fingers noticed that his coffee was cold yet again. For the third time that night he performed a bit of Prestidigitation that would heat the liquid up again as he brought it to his mouth. The liquid never passed his lips as he sat the mug back down again with his attention focused firmly on the page in front of him.
And so it was that an orphaned boy journeyed into the East and a hardened man returned. His armor had been fashioned by the Novantae Dwarves in payment of his aiding their battle against the Fiend of Ghul Mithrak. On the breast was the blazing symbol of his Lord, Pelor.
At his side hung his mace, a weapon that shone with light from within, forged from the strange, enchanted glass that made up the Plain of Glittering Stone. He wielded it with pride as its inner light inspired allies who fought beside him and laid waste to the unliving. But on this, his journey back to the West he had but one ally.
Hanging at his other hip he carried The Bloodstone Blade, taken from the hands of the Stone Sentinel that guarded the Tomb of the Shadowlord. Whether he had gone inside or not is a tale that has never been told but he returned to the West a changed man. A man set to right the wrong done to his people in his youth and to bring justice to a creature who had reigned in terror for so long.
None but he was there to see the battle unfold and he was not a man to brag of such deeds. But when he came down from the Dragonmount, he no longer carried the Bloodstone Blade and the Dragon did not trouble those lands for generations to come.
With his people avenged, Cuthbert of Pelor left behind his homelands and moved south to champion a new people, the people of Emor, against the many foes that beset the Empire in its youth…
I had a blast playing Brandis Tolhart the sneaky Halfling Scout. There were Sythian warriors, Fire Witches and Giant Scorpions galore. We very nearly lost our elven archeress to the Huge Scorpion conjured by a Fire Witch but thanks to Brandis and Vercinius of Osirian (I might have spelled that name right) played by our very own Riggs, we smacked down the Witch and poof went the Scorpion!
