0.1 - The Final Stand (Part One)
Avin Dromdel was roused from a quite pleasant sleep to hear the distant blaring of a horn. He rose, his bones weary and his muscles begging for more rest. Avin knew, however, that such a horn was not sounded but in the direst of circumstances. This old hero may well be needed, despite his advanced age and fading skills.
Going to the balcony outside his study, Avin breathed in the fresh air for the first time in weeks. He'd been reading through his old journals, reliving some of the very first adventures he'd had as a youth, before he'd known all of Runa Thei and become one of its very saviors. That was a long time ago, of course, and all Avin Dromdel really had left were those memories. Too many old friends lay buried somewhere, or lost in some forgotten dungeon, or turned to evil.
The horn blared again. Avin could see in the distance of
Roog Valley, at the choke point known as
Ouder's Tower, a gathering of troops, evidenced by banners and pennants poking into the air. Avin spied at least two companies of men and horses, meaning there were probably twice that number in the valley itself.
What could such a horn mean? Were these troops friendly? Were they planning an attack against
Dromdel Keep? If so, for what purpose? Avin was long hailed as a hero in
Mortay, but he wouldn't put it past the new regent,
Prince Hagan, so stir up public sentiment against the old guard and root out people like the aged Avin Dromdel. After all, Hagan was anxious to show that
he was the power in Mortay and not some elderly adventurers whose best days were a decade ago.
"And what are you staring at?" a very familiar female voice asked.
Avin half turned from the railing to see his wife,
Shanra Leftasis, his former adventuring partner, standing in the doorway. Shanra was dressed in fineries, as if she was planning to host a party or perhaps some distinguished guests. This role was a far cry from when Avin first met Shanra, when he could never imagine his future wife as a domestic and hostess.
"Are we to receive guests?" Avin asked.
"No," Shanra replied. "I just sent them away, in fact. Were you not cooped up in your study and actually took the time to play host, you might have known that." Shanra joined her husband at the balcony.
"What do you know of that?" Avin asked, pointing at the gathering at the entry to the valley.
"An army?"
"Indeed," Avin replied. "But for what purpose?"
"Perhaps we should send
Axor to query them."
Avin and Shanra's eldest son was only too anxious to represent Dromdel Keep in diplomatic matters. He possessed his father's charisma and his mother's lack of fear. Axor Dromdel was already well known to the people of Mortay; he would appear at many of the social events where his father had been invited but didn't care enough to attend. Axor had already been to Prince Hagan's court twice, whereas the elder hero was noticeable absent from the new Mortavian ruler's palace. Axor was not only a diplomat, but fancied himself a hero, to one day take his mother's and father's places amongst the pantheon of Mortavian heroes. Avin wasn't particularly anxious to see this transpire.
"Yes," Avin said. "Send the boy. He must not engage them -- "
"Seriously, Avin. Do you think our young man a dullard? He knows when best to use charm and when the sword is called for."
Avin looked out upon the valley. "I wish that were true."
"I'm sending him," Shanra declared. She walked towards the doors. "Axor...?"
The distant army was moving. Forces were gathered and approximately a thousand mounted men and footsoldiers were marching into Roog Valley. If these men
were heading towards Dromdel Keep, the local hero might as well gird himself for the coming battle. He left the balcony, walked through the study, almost forgetting the magical amulet that had been hanging on a copper hook for the past eight years. This amulet had more than once saved Avin's life and he would be remiss not to don it for what might be his final battle.
From the study, Avin moved to the stairs and descending them, found himself in a great hall. Several decorative suits of armor were displayed there, but none of these were suited to actual combat. Dromdel passed down the great hall and to a pair of stout double doors. Before entering the armory, Avin stopped to see an old suit of scale mail armor. He'd purchased the suit in
Crossroads, when he was still a student at the
Bleak Reaver Academy. That was such a long time ago. Avin considered donning the old suit one last time, but decided that old suits of armor were best left alone.
Entering the armory, Avin found his sons, Axor and
Ilarn, busy with servants aiding the boys in donning their armor.
"It takes two of you to speak to this army?" Avin asked as he entered.
Seeing his father, Axor smiled. "Father! It does my heart good to see you up and around."
"Likewise," Ilarn added.
"I'm no old codger, you know," Avin replied. "I'm not ready to be put out to pasture. Not yet." He summoned a servant over. "Here, this one," he said, motioning to a gleaming, polished set of scale armor, emblazoned with the Dromdel crest and standards.
"You're going with us?" Ilarn asked.
"If it's a fight they want..." the father replied.
"Surely, this is a diplomatic visit," Axor said.
"Boy," Avin replied. "They don't send a thousand armed men for a social call."
Shanra appeared at the doors to the armory. "Well, don't you three make quite a fetching crew?"
"Now is not the time for levity," her husband pointed out.
"You're planning to fight these men, aren't you?" she asked. "That is insanity."
"Are you saying I'm too old to do it?"
Shanra frowned. "I'm saying there are a thousand cavalry and footmen marching towards our doorstep. I highly doubt the three of you will make much of a difference."
"I've made a difference in the past," Avin replied. "You should know that better than anyone."
Shanra approached her husband, now half-clad in metal. "I know," she said. "No one disputes your past accomplishments, Avin. Your sons honor you. Your kingdom honors you."
"It's not my kingdom. Not anymore."
"Are these men really here to fight us?" the young Ilarn asked.
"I can't think of any other reason they would come," Avin replied. He looked upon the lovely Shanra, the thief of his heart. "You know, I don't see any reason that your particular talents wouldn't be of use in this conflict."
Shanra had adventured alongside Avin Dromdel since the beginning of his career. Though Avin was more broadly considered a heroic figure in Mortay and indeed in all of Runa Thei, Shanra had experienced her moments of heroism as well. Her skills at trickery and sorcery were well known to the people of Mortay and her magical powers were not to be underestimated. Still, it had been a long time since Shanra Leftasis had wielded such powers.
"I'm not of a mind to fight these troops," she said.
Another horn blared, this time from much closer than the ones that had roused Avin Dromdel from a mid-afternoon nap.
"They seek an audience," Axor said.
Avin waived off the servant putting the last touches on his armor and finished the job himself. "Perhaps," he replied. "If that's the case, I'll ride out to meet them myself."
"No, father," Axor said. "Please, if they mean to do us harm, what can you do to stop them? No, you must not ride alone."
"You just said they seek an audience," Ilarn pointed out.
"I... could be mistaken."
That was a revelation. Axor Dromdel was not one to admit weakness, failure, or indecision.
"I will ride out alone and that is final," Avin said and left the room without another word.
Axor, Ilarn, and Shanra looked at each other with discomfort.
"I hope your father knows what he's doing," Shanra said.
Avin Dromdel rode a new horse, a blue
Selefrian mare, decked out in barding bearing the Dromdel crest, and took the horse to a ledge overlooking the
Nears River, which ran the length of the Roog Valley.
Avin could see the army moving in, crossing a ford where the river was particularly narrow. Now that he could see them with more detail, Avin knew these were Mortavian soldiers and by their markings, men of Prince Hagan's honor guard. These were soldiers and knights chosen from the very best Mortay had to offer; many had served under Hagan's father,
King Laius the Blooded, a man who Avin Dromdel had called friend. Avin wondered whether such men, some of whom Avin had personally commanded in battle, would truly turn on one of the kingdom's only remaining heroes.
Riding down a hillside trail wide enough for just one horse to pass, Avin came within sight of the army. They stopped dead in their tracks. Avin spotted a man coming to the front. It was a man Avin knew well.
"
Boris Veck," Avin said.
"Dromdel," Beck said as he approached on horseback. "It's good to see you again, my old friend."
Avin looked upon the assembled men. Each was tense, but not necessarily gauged for immediate violence. They did not seem at all intent on doing Avin harm.
"I must ask the purpose of your visit, Boris."
Veck rode a little closer. "It's not a social call, Avin. These men are here to protect you."
Avin rose an eyebrow. "Protect me?"
Veck laughed. "Did you think we were here to kill you? Or perhaps throw you in prison?"
"The thought occurred to me. Especially with that half-breed Hagan seated on the old man's throne."
"Watch your tongue," Veck curtly replied. "Were I not your good friend, and were you not the master of my order -- "
"You were always loyal to the crown," Avin said. "For that, you deserve much admiration."
"And you are disloyal?"
"My loyalty was to King Laius," Avin said. "I have no love for Prince Hagan. Or, more specifically, his father."
"It's
King Hagan now."
Avin didn't want to think about the Mortavian crown sitting atop that half-breed's head. "You said these men were here to
protect me?"
"Perhaps you and I should discuss this matter inside the walls of your fine keep," Veck suggested.
"You will tell me right here and now or I'll turn these men away."
Veck rode very close to Avin. He whispered, "
Kith Kangus."
Those words were daggers to Avin Dromdel, tearing open old wounds only recently healed.
"Surely not."
"Now will you escort me into Dromdel Keep so that we may further this discussion?"
Avin led Veck back up the hill, across the shelf, and past the meager guard compliment keeping an eye on the soldiers assembled not more than 150 yards from Dromdel Keep.
Once the horses had been stabled, Avin took Boris Veck into the keep proper and ushered him immediately to the downstairs parlor, where Shanra, Axor, and Ilarn were waiting.
"Fire and spit," Avin said as he entered.
Shanra frowned as Boris Veck entered. "What is
he doing here?"
"I have asked Boris to accompany me here," Avin said. He moved to Veck's side. "Now, if you would please explain yourself."
Veck sat down. "This is most troubling."
"What is?" Shanra asked.
"I'm not quite sure how to explain it all," Veck replied. "Much has transpired, much of which I'm sure you're unaware, being located where you are. This keep is a long way from civilization. You know, Avin. Would it kill you to pay a visit to Crossroads or
Castle Mortay once in a while?"
"Stop stalling," Avin said. "Look, you can't just come to my home, flush with a thousand troops, utter
that name, and then beat around the bush. Out with it!"
Veck winced. "Kith Kangus. He has returned."
"Father? He doesn't mean
the Kith Kangus. That old emperor you killed, once, twice, three times...?" Axor asked.
"He means the same."
Veck nodded. "From all accounts, Emperor Kangus is back in Mortay. Graves throughout the kingdom, and possibly elsewhere, they have been emptied of their corpses. And I think you know what that means, Avin."
"An undead army?" Shanra asked.
Going to the window, Avin looked out upon the soldiers assembled in the Roog Valley below. "A thousand troops is not enough."
"I know," Veck replied. "We suspect that Kangus is out for revenge. This is the place he'd come."
"He will destroy all of Mortay along the way," Avin said. "He knows that it will draw me out."
"This isn't your battle anymore," Shanra said, rushing to her husband's side. "Avin, you have to let others take up the sword. Your sons, the sons of our friends, the youth of Mortay and all of Runa Thei..."
Avin turned to look upon Shanra. He recalled when the two of them were adventurers just starting out in the world. They were so young, so naive. The memories were so faded. They almost seemed like they belonged to someone else.
"Perhaps it is time," he said faintly.
"Look, I don't want to tell you when to retire," Shanra said. "Everyone still loves you, loves what you've done for the kingdom. But you were not always great, were you? There was a time, perhaps too long ago for you to remember, when you were unproven, when neither of us was worth a silver crown. We had to join with others, to go out and prove our worth, to accomplish something."
"I remember," Avin said. "Not well enough. Not as well as I once did. But I remember..."
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