Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 157
There is a dumbfounded silence. On the one hand, the message is fairly unambiguous. But… is this really the beginning of the end? Three months before the Planar Gate falls and Naradawk returns to Abernia? The Archmagi, for all of their tremendous power, are going to fail of their task?
“I frikkin’ hate Verdshane,” Dranko grumbles.
“Say,” says Kibi, only half innocently. “Isn’t that where that woman caught you sneaking around and held you hostage?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We should get word to the Spire right away!” exclaims Ernie.
“I’ll cast a sending to Yale,” says Morningstar.
She sends: Message from Ozilinsh follows. Three months maximum, probably less. Tell Crunard assemble troops at Verdshane. Stasis will double 48 hour warning when it falls.
The response: Understood. Knew this day would come. Troops will be sent to Verdshane from Balani pending confirmation. Inform Duke Nigel. Send more information if possible.
Morningstar follows up with another sending: We’re not sure where to go next. Could be at Balani in 30 days. Best place for us?
Back from Yale: Prefer to have you ready to assist Verdshane defense. Is Aravis ready? Protect him! You’d be valuable in Balani, but not sure if worth risk.
“I can prepare another sending for Duke Nigel,” says Morningstar.
“Here’s an idea,” says Dranko, grinning despite the grim news. “How about we walk across town and meet with him in person. It’s crazy, I know, but I’d like to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.”
“Oh,” says Morningstar. “Yeah.”
* *
Duke Nigel runs his hands through his thinning hair.
“I suppose it was inevitable,” he says quietly. A splash of sunlight from a window in the ducal audience chamber falls across his face. “I hope we’re ready. Aravis, are you ready?”
“I don’t know yet,” Aravis admits. “Right now, probably not. But I intend to be ready. In another week I will have finished work on an item that will expand my understanding of the arcane. I will go into the Maze, and learn what I need to learn."
“Good, good.” Nigel nods, frowning. Such things are obviously beyond him, and they all know he has no choice but to take Aravis at his word. “Keeping Aravis safe needs to be your top priority.”
The Company agrees.
“We haven’t been idle, I’m happy to say,” the Duke continues. “We’ve had several hundred troops and plenty of workers up in Verdshane for some time now, preparing the battlefield and making strategic preparations. Now we’ll start reassigning troops there in earnest. We’ll have to weaken our positions on the Peninsula, but we won’t have to decimate them. It’s a concern, obviously, but Verdshane is now our top priority. We can only hope that the Delfirian’s enemies in Kivia – the Bederen – can keep them busy enough in the upcoming weeks and months.”
Ernie suddenly perks up, and the others can almost see the light-bulb above his head. “Er, excuse me, Your Grace, but I have an idea.”
“Yes, Ernest?”
“Well, Your Grace, Morningstar has recently made contact – in the Dream World – with other Priestesses of Ell, in Kivia, who live close to Bederen. Maybe we could use them to contact the Bederen leaders, and set up a meeting in Dream where you could coordinate with them.”
Duke Nigel looks over to Morningstar.
“Would that be possible?”
“I don’t know,” answers Morningstar. “But I could certainly talk to Evenstar tonight. I don’t know how much contact she’s had with the Bederen. They’ve always valued their secrecy. But it won’t hurt to ask.”
“Please do,” says Nigel. “We’ve often wished there was some way to contact the Bederen directly, but the Uncrossable Sea prohibits all of the usual means, magic and mundane. It would be of tremendous benefit if we could convince them to push harder while our own troops are moved elsewhere.”
“We could help with the Delfirians while our soldiers are re-deployed,” Grey Wolf offers.
“While I’m sure you could be of great use, I don’t want to risk Aravis,” Nigel answers. “Or any of you, for that matter. However things go in Verdshane with the Crosser’s Maze, I want as much strength in place as we can spare. I want your Company to be ready to defend Verdshane.”
“As far as that goes,” says Kibi, “I could get plenty of dwarves up there in a hurry. I know a lot of people from Eggemoggin and Hae Kalkas who could do a lot of good in one month, let alone three.”
“That would be extremely useful, I’d imagine,” says the Duke. “You should coordinate with General Anabrook; she’s in charge of the defense at Verdshane. She’s the best we have. As intelligent as Largent, but more adaptive, more creative.
“Is there anything else for you to report?”
“Well, Your Grace,” says Dranko. “We might as well let you know that we were attacked again recently, by another one of Parthol’s frikkin’ simulacra. It makes me think that we shouldn’t be surprised if P makes his presence felt at the battle.”
“Ah, the elusive Parthol Runecarver. He’s an unpleasant wild-card in all of this. The Spire has given much thought to how Parthol could have survived this long unnoticed. I don’t like saying so, but at least some of the Archmagi have expressed the opinion that he has become a lich.”
“Crap!” Dranko utters, even in the presence of royalty.
“My thoughts exactly,” says the Duke with a grim smile. “But we have too much to worry about already, just including the dangers we know we’re facing. If Parthol wants to have his say, well, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. I trust that the Archmagi will know what to do.”
Everyone agrees on that!
“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to help get things rolling. Moving a few thousand troops won’t happen by itself.”
He stands.
“It’s the beginning of the end, my friends. I hope it ends well.”
* *
The Company returns to the Greenhouse, ready to answer the question: “Just how many magic items can we create in three months?” The busy days start to tick away…
Step continues to help train the kids over at the Church of Werthis. Some other members of the Company start to join him for evening sessions, eager to leave the smelly basement lab of the Greenhouse and keep their muscles loose.
On one such evening, Step stands at one end of the training yard with Dranko, Ernie and Grey Wolf spread out near him. Before him the class of thirty kids stands at attention, ordered in crisp rows, alert.
“I have been teaching you about teamwork,” says Step. “Tonight you’ll need to show me what you’ve learned. The four of us are here, ready to defend ourselves. You outnumber us almost eight to one, but we are much stronger than you are. Remember what I’ve taught you about flanking, and about assisting one another in battle. You may begin when ready.
Step stands back. Grey Wolf grins at him, and the members of the Company ready themselves.
Immediately the oldest boy, Thommel, gathers all of the kids into a huddle, and starts whispering to them. Dranko tries to listen in but is too far away to hear what’s being planned. After about thirty seconds they break the huddle, form into groups of eight, and start to slowly advance on the defending instructors. But when they have closed to about fifteen feet away, Thommel shouts “Now!”
The three groups of kids that had been advancing on Grey Wolf, Step and Ernie veer away. The fourth group charges Dranko en masse. Dranko readies himself to deflect their swings, but the kids don’t bother. The kid in front leaps at Dranko’s chest, and the half-orc easily knocks him aside. But the second kid lunges at his ankles, and two more grab at his arms. Although he shrugs off a good half-dozen of the kids, the students from the other groups also start throwing themselves on the pile. Soon Dranko is dragged down by the sheer weight of the entire class pig piling on top of him. Some are grabbing at his hands, trying to disarm him. Others are managing to poke him with their wooden swords, or simply pummeling him with their fists. After thirty seconds of this – with Step looking on with approval – Thommel shouts “Change!” and the kids start disentangling themselves from the pile. Quickly they are back in formation, some of them hopping or limping to simulate wounds incurred in the rush. Dranko just lies there, slightly bruised.
“Now!” Thommel cries again, and the whole class converges on Ernie. A similar scene ensues, ending with Ernie buried beneath 1500 pounds of students. When they disengage, Step orders them back into formation.
“In battle,” he says sternly, “many of you would have died using that tactic. But I am very pleased. I did not teach you overbearing, but you have applied other lessons, and took advantage of your collective strength. Thommel, your leadership skills are noted. All of you should be proud.”
The students beam. They have learned that Step is not easy to please.
“You have earned three minutes of rest. Afterward, we will run.”
Thirty smiles fade.
* *
Morningstar meets Evenstar one evening in Ava Dormo to discuss sending an emissary to the Bederen warchiefs. Evenstar confesses that her enclave has never made contact with any officials in Bederen, and only rarely do they even venture to small villages to trade. But she is more than willing to send a half-dozen sisters, with Snokas serving as bodyguard, to make contact with Bederen leaders if possible. She figures it shouldn’t be too long before such a group would be captured and questioned as to their purpose. With luck, they’ll get to talk with someone who will take them seriously.
On many evenings, Morningstar also continues to train the rest of the Company in Ava Dormo. Using the prayer dream anchor she can bring all of them to Ava Dormo with her, where they practice fighting, moving, and concentrating on maintaining their personal realities. All of them become accustomed to arriving with their own equipment and items. Casting spells is tougher, but with practice they learn this too. The speed-of-thought movement is still beyond most of their skills; only Ernie and Step can muster the mental discipline. Still, Morningstar is confident that the rest of the Company could prove useful in an Ava Dormo altercation.
Evenstar is also continuing to school her own sisters, and helping to coordinate them with Amber’s troops. June and Previa, the two most proficient of the Charagan sisters, work closely with the Kivians on developing group tactics. Many of Evenstar’s sisters are too old and frail to fight, but they are extremely good at removing the arms and armor of others with concerted thought.
* *
Kibi just wants to finish up a sash of transparency he’s been working on for Dranko, before teleporting to Verdshane to speak with General Anabrook. On the last day of its creation, Kibi holds it up to the light of a continual flame torch.
“Dranko, you said you wanted it red, right?”
“Yeah,” says Dranko suspiciously. “Why?”
Kibi has been threatening for days to do something embarrassing in the creation of Dranko’s sash (which will allow the casting of improved invisibility 1/day, with 50 charges). Dranko has been growing more and more tired of these ‘threats,’ especially knowing that Kibi really would follow through if given any leeway.
“What would you think of a pale red?” Kibi asks innocently.
“How pale?”
“Um. Very pale. Extremely pale.”
“You mean ‘pink?’”
“I guess you might say that. It just seemed fitting for a froofy sash like this.”
“No!”
“Oh, fine.”
Grey Wolf gets a similar item but accepts it in the form of a proper dwarvish-styled vest. Kibi, always one to consider style as keenly as substance, clearly considers Dranko’s fashion sense to be less than sensible. A sash? Please!
Dranko grumbles and turns back to his own work. He is nearly done improving his whip of the searing tongue, making it more magical and imbuing it with the sure striking ability. He dabs a bit of enchanted dye onto the handle, and there is a curious hissing sound.
“I wonder if that’s supposed to… whoa!”
The handle of the whip starts to glow a dull red. Dranko yelps in pain and drops it to the ground.
“That thing is hot! I hope I didn’t mess something up…”
As he watches the whip-handle turns a bright orange, and then pure white. Only after several minutes have passed does it cool down and return to its normal hue. Dranko gingerly picks it up, and notices right away that it’s lighter and more balanced. He gives it a test crack, curling the end around an empty metal vial and deftly depositing the vial into his open hand.
“Hot damn! It worked! Man, I’m good.”
* *
The next day Kibi, Morningstar and Ernie get ready to teleport to Verdshane. Kibi is familiar enough with the inside of the inn (the Shadow Chaser) to feel comfortable that nothing will go wrong. Morningstar suggests that they put on their official uniforms, designating them as King’s solders. When all is ready, Kibi waves his arms around and…
…they find themselves surrounded by armed guards, all scrambling to point loaded crossbows at them. Kibi looks around confused… this is the Shadow Chaser, clearly.
“Hello!” he announces cheerfully. “We’re here to offer our assistance.”
None of the guards lower their crossbows.
“How nice of you,” says a sarcastic voice, approaching from behind the lines of bowmen. “Perhaps you’d care to introduce yourselves.”
“My name is Kibilhathur Bimson,” says Kibi, addressing the advancing figure. This is Morningstar of Ell and Ernest Roundhill. We’re from Tal Hae. Duke Nigel said that General Anabrook could use our help.”
A tall figure emerges from the ranks of crossbowmen. His face is furrowed with a deep frown that softens – if you can call it that – into an annoyed grimace.
“Kibilhathur Bimson,” he says. “While I’m sure we will be most grateful for your help, perhaps in the future you could give us a warning that you are about to teleport directly into the command center of our military operation!”
“Err…” says Kibi.
“We’re very sorry!” pipes up Ernie. “We didn’t know this was where you had your headquarters.”
“And it’s the only place I remembered well enough to teleport to,” adds Kibi.
The man sighs.
“Please don’t do it again,” he grumbles. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing those uniforms. Otherwise my men might have shot first and asked questions afterward.”
“We really are sorry, sir.” says Morningstar.
“Yes. Well.”
The man gestures to the guards, who relax and go back to their posts.
“I am Lieutenant Madoc,” he says. “Perhaps we should talk in private about the purpose of your visit.”
The four of them adjourn to a windowless office. Kibi makes his offer to supply dwarves to help in the defense, and Madoc accepts.
“They can help build redoubts along the perimeter of the Mud Zone. We’re putting up as many as we can, and building platforms in the trees.”
When the three members of the Company look puzzled, Madoc explains.
“For months we’ve been clearing out all of trees around the Gate. Our best intelligence is that, when the enemy forces arrive, they’ll tend to be clustered in that vicinity. We’ll have quite a welcome in store for ‘em. You see, we’ve also diverted part of the river that flows just south of here. We’ve got wooden channels pouring water into a huge area, night and day, day and night. It’s a big area – half a mile on a side – and we’re turning it into a muddy soup. Give us another couple of months to add new channels, and pretty much that whole area will be a nightmare for foot-soldiers or cavalry. We call it the Mud Zone. But it should be a killing field.
“You see, we’ll have hundreds – maybe over a thousand – archers, set up all along the forest perimeter. We have tens of thousands of arrows at hand, and fletchers are working around the clock making more. While the enemy troops are slogging slowly through the mud to get out of the Mud Zone, we’ll be raining arrows down on them like… well, like rain.”
Madoc tells them more about the defenses – that since there are no guarantees that every enemy soldier will appear in the Mud Zone, there will be kingdom forces spread out in strike teams throughout the surrounding forest. And that Kinnet Gorge will have a stationary guard ordered to drive enemies away who might tamper with the hanging boxes. And that the magical key-room itself (from which Meledien was chased away some months ago) will not only be physically barricaded with logs, but rigged to explode with dozens of barrels of Karthian Oil. Some brave soldiers are sealed inside with plenty of food and water, along with orders to blow the place up if any enemy forces gain entry.
“Anyway, if you can get us some stonewrights and carpenters and such, it will help us fortify the perimeter. We won’t have the time to wall off the whole two miles, but every bit helps.”
Kibi finds a spot on the road about fifty yards down from the Shadow Chaser, near a roadside sentry post. He spends a couple of hours studying that spot, memorizing every detail, intending for it to be his future arrival point when teleporting. Morningstar casts wind walk and returns to Tal Hae with Ernie, while Kibi teleports again, this time to his home in Eggemoggin. Over the next few days he visits numerous local watering holes, and even makes a trip into Hae Kalkas. By making clear the great prestige that will be earned by helping fortify kingdom positions against a perilous foe, Kibi manages to collect many eager dwarves for the task. The dwarves are less happy to learn that they must be reduced to expedite teleporting large numbers of them, but Kibi assures them that no will see them in a shrunken state. On the matter of his teleport’s reliability Kibi dissembles a bit, making vague assurances that everything will be fine.
The first batch of tiny dwarves arrives near Verdshane – in plain view of two human sentries. The dwarves are mortified, and start to mutter angrily at Kibi. One of the guards guffaws.
“Dwarfish dwarves! Who’d a thunk it!”
Kibi, at full size and wearing his royal uniform, advances on the guard and lets his hand drop to the handle of his axe.
“You will not speak of this to anyone. That is an order. Do you understand?”
Scree amasses threateningly around Kibi’s feet. The guard becomes businesslike and snaps a saulte.
“Yes sir!”
Kibi and the dwarves retreat around a bend in the road until the reduce wears off, after which he studies a new patch of ground, more reliably out of human sight.
* *
About a week after receiving the note from Ozilinsh’s tower, Aravis finishes crafting his headband of intellect +4. He gathers the Company around him.
“Friends, I’m going to journey into the Crosser’s Maze. I want to find past Keepers, and get them to tell me what I should do about stopping Naradawk. I don’t know how long it will take. If you absolutely have to snap me out of it, Pewter can claw my shoulder – I’ll know that’s the signal. But only if it’s really urgent. While I’m gone, I’m leaving Pewter in charge of my body – just in case of emergencies. He should be able to move me around in a pinch.”
“Don’t worry, boss,” Pewter says over their mindlink. “I’ll take good care of you while you’re gone. I bet it’ll fun driving you around.”
“Pewter…”
“Just kidding, boss. No worries.”
Aravis sets the headband on his brow, and feels his mind expanding, his understanding of the arcane mysteries growing. The Maze seems clearer to him now than ever.
“Wish me luck,” he says. And in he goes.
Aravis is sitting down, back against a wall, Pewter perched on his shoulder. Aravis’ face goes slack, the stars still glittering out of his eye sockets. About a minute later, the body starts moving around jerkily. His arms twitch, his head lolls, and one of his legs starts to wander. Pewter still sits calmly by Aravis’ head. Then Aravis opens his mouth, and slurred, incomprehensible vocalizations come out.
Worried, Kay casts speak with animals and asks Pewter if everything’s ok.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just trying out the body. I want to get in some practice, in case we need to go somewhere in a hurry. Never hurts to be prepared, right? Still having a bit of trouble with the vocal chords, but I think I’ve almost got it.”
In a horrific parody of Aravis’ normal voice, his body says: “Hiiiieeeeyy, Eeeeeevory Wunnnnnn.”
“Please don’t do that,” says Kay.
“No problem,” Pewter says in feline. “Aravis is about to head inward, for real. I don’t really understand the Crosser’s Maze, but I gather it’s got some kind of huge inner universe full of different – er – space-times, or something. He’s not having any difficulty that I can… uh, hold on.”
Pause.
“Aravis says… uh oh. He says you should get your weapons ready.”
Kay relays this startling suggestion to the others, who scramble for weapons.
“He’s really sorry about this, but something’s coming back through the Maze. The Boss didn’t see that one coming. I’ll bet he’s… Oh, he says it shouldn’t happen again. There are… there are two of them. Watch out!”
…to be continued…
