Unforgiving lands - Now in hiatus - Details at last post
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Mahtave said:
Mahtave, I'm very glad to read that you liked it
Thank you for posting your input. As always, it's very much appreciated.Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Chapter 32
Self-doubt
The first moments after the fight was over were shrouded in silence. Vincent stood in the same spot he had been at the time of throwing his spear, unmoving. Without much ceremony Gilliam dropped to his knees and took several deep breaths. Meanwhile, Gon looked around, contemplating the corpses of the two apprentices with interest, and Darius kept his eyes on Vincent, looking serious. Kahleen healed her wounds with a flash of amber that shone around her figure, and Hantel did the same, although his magic came in a cerulean aura.
Gon began to rummage through the bodies of the apprentices without a word, doing the same with Ignus once he was done. Shaman and Seer went to ease the injuries of the rest, using their remaining magic to do so, and the former cancelled her entanglement spell. At length, Vincent came out of what looked like a trance and walked over to the corpse of the illusionist, plucking his weapon of choice out from its perforated neck.
“Now that he’s dead we won’t have to bother about watching our backs” Gilliam said with obvious relief. “There’s no one to chase us to the end of the world”.
Darius was busy with wiping his blade with a spare cloth, but he heard the words just fine. “However, we still don’t know why he was after us in the first place” the soldier said. “There could be more like him, waiting to take his spot once he goes down”.
“If they come, we shall deal with them just like we’ve done with Ignus”.
It had been Vincent who said those words, and the conviction with which he did so made the rest feel as if there was no other option, if only for a moment. “Well put, squire” Hantel praised with a smile as he finished his healing spell on him.
“Feh, they barely have anything” Gon was complaining. “Even the all-powerful Ignus barely has items of use”. The roguish soldier placed one of the apprentice’s robes on the ground in order to display the items he had acquired through the body-search. The objects included Ignus’ robe, which was etched in runes along the sleeves; the two wands from the apprentices, several magic scrolls from the illusionist, along with a pendant he had been wearing and a pair of silver bracers.
“All magical” Kahleen observed after summoning a simple power to assess the item’s essence. Gon smiled proudly and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve got a good eye for this kind of thing, y’know?”. The rest gathered around the display in order to take a better look.
Bending down on his knees a bit, Gilliam scanned each object for a brief while. “We can’t tell what they do until we get an experienced arcane user to do so” he said with a sigh. “This will have to wait until Tidebreaker, then” the mercenary concluded as he straightened up.
“Tidebreaker?” Darius asked at an obvious loss. “The fortress set up by House Dagoth?”.
“The one and only” Gon replied in the mercenary’s stead. “Geez, Broken Blade, you really need to fill that tiny brain of yours with more worldly knowledge!” the red-haired man said with exasperation. This drew a scowl from Darius. Before the blond soldier could give his opinion over Gon’s intellect, Kahleen interjected.
“We should make it there in five days, which means we’ll have to hunt in order to have something to eat” she informed the group in her serene voice. In normal circumstances, the notion would’ve been accepted without so much as a blink; yet these were not normal circumstances by any means, as the Spirit Wood was not a typical forest in which one with expertise can easily catch animals for dinner. The expression that formed on Gilliam’s face pretty much indicated how much he was looking forward to hunting in the enchanted woods.
“As long as Berethor guides us, we will be fine”.
It was not Hantel who said this, but Vincent, leaving the others quite surprised, and the priest quite happy. “Indeed, that’s all we really need, in the end” the aged priest agreed with a nod.
Gon wrapped all the items in the cloak they laid on and begun to stuff it into his backpack. “I’m ready” he announced. Gilliam recovered his swords, and as he bent down to do so noticed something peculiar. “What’s this?” he wondered as he picked up a small ivory token shaped like a whip. Like the whip that had attacked him not long ago, to be precise.
“It must be the item’s actual shape before it’s utilized” Kahleen theorized. “We’ll need to find out its command word if we are to use it”. Reluctant as he was to keep the object that had caused him difficulties in the past, Gilliam decided that he might as well turn his enemy’s weapons into his. The mercenary pocketed the token without another word.
Everyone reported to be ready, and so they walked onwards, their destination the same as before, their path less dangerous now that the illusionist had been slain.
However, Darius remained behind, walking much slower than the rest, and soon there were several feet of distance between him and Gon, who was at the back of the formation.
“Keep going, I’ll deal with him” Gilliam told the others upon noticing the soldier’s behavior. He trotted back to where Darius was now standing, and saw him glancing around awkwardly.
Gilliam stood ten feet in front of Darius, hands on hips. “Well?” he asked at length, seeing that the soldier did not give an explanation for staying behind. Darius seemed to come out of a trance then, and he blinked twice.
“Are you coming with us or what?” the mercenary insisted, keeping his tone even.
Darius sighed deeply. “You actually expect me to continue traveling with you?” he asked in disbelief. Gilliam’s eyebrow went up. “Yes, I actually do, Darius”.
“Why?”.
The question had Gilliam thinking for a moment, out of surprise. “Because you are a part of this group, and our group is heading towards the north of the continent” the mercenary responded with a rather condescending tone. “Good enough?”.
The blond warrior shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I’m doing anything for this group, other than getting in other’s way and risking my own life. I’m not prepared for this, Gilliam”.
His words drew a chuckle from Gilliam. “Really? And you think that any of the rest were somehow prepared to deal with any of the situations we’ve been through?”.
Ignoring his words, Darius went on. “I’m just a soldier, Gilliam, not a knight like you’ve attempted to make me believe!” he practically shouted. “And I don’t believe I can go through any more battles, any more encounters with death. This isn’t for me”.
Gilliam nodded as he considered the words. “True enough… you’re not a knight” he agreed. “You’re a coward”. Darius looked hurt by the comment, but did not deny it. “And we don’t need cowards in this group, Darius Broken Blade”.
The mercenary placed his index finger pointing at Darius. “Go away”.
“What?” the soldier asked dumbfounded. “You’re just letting me go?”.
“You expect me to try to convince you otherwise?” Gilliam asked incredulously. “I can’t keep dragging you along the journey, Darius, not anymore. I thought that if I gave you a little push you’d spread your wings and fly on your own, but it seems as if you’re afraid of doing the flying part”. He shrugged as if it really did not matter. “In the end, you’ve proved me wrong: you can’t fly by yourself. You’re a coward, and as such you can’t stay with us”.
Gilliam gestured towards the way that lead back home. “Go. Back to Master Ender, to whom you’ll report what we’ve done so far and of your own self-dismissal” he said with a tone that indicated a settled matter.
Darius remained frozen on the spot for a long moment, silent; his head tilted down in defeat, his shoulders slumped. He moved his lips and a barely audible sound came out at length.
“What was that?” Gilliam asked with curiosity.
“I said no” Darius repeated, louder.
“Oh, so you want to stay, coward?” Gilliam taunted.
“I’m not going anywhere save forward” Darius insisted, his voice obtaining more conviction with each word. His posture had gone back to normal, and he was now facing Gilliam.
“I won’t let you” the mercenary responded, drawing his twin swords in a flash and entering a battle stance. “You’ll have to kill me if you want to continue the journey” he said with grim finality.
Darius hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second; he drew his own blade at once, assuming a fighting pose as well. “If that’s what it takes”.
“You’d try to defeat me, someone clearly more skilled than you, in order to advance?” Gilliam asked.
“I’ll cut down anything in my path” Darius responded with a slash that was meant to emphasize his intent.
“Why?”.
The question appeared to take the soldier by surprise. “Because…” he began, and trailed off. It took him an extra second to find the answer. “Because I have my honor, and without it I’m nothing, just like House Kashtar or the Honor Guard”.
Gilliam sheathed his blades just as quickly as he had drawn them. “Good enough” he said approvingly with a nod. “Let’s make haste and join the rest then”. The mercenary turned around and began walking without another word, leaving Darius even more perplexed.
A test, then Darius reasoned, and he put his own sword away. Together, they jogged to reach the group, who were actually waiting in place for the two of them.
“What took you so long, boss?” Gon inquired with annoyance.
With a sly smile on his face, Gilliam passed him by and went back to the front of the group. “Oh, just discussing Darius’ future training”.
“Training?” the rest, Darius included, asked.
“Yes, knightly training” Gilliam responded matter-of-factly.
Self-doubt
The first moments after the fight was over were shrouded in silence. Vincent stood in the same spot he had been at the time of throwing his spear, unmoving. Without much ceremony Gilliam dropped to his knees and took several deep breaths. Meanwhile, Gon looked around, contemplating the corpses of the two apprentices with interest, and Darius kept his eyes on Vincent, looking serious. Kahleen healed her wounds with a flash of amber that shone around her figure, and Hantel did the same, although his magic came in a cerulean aura.
Gon began to rummage through the bodies of the apprentices without a word, doing the same with Ignus once he was done. Shaman and Seer went to ease the injuries of the rest, using their remaining magic to do so, and the former cancelled her entanglement spell. At length, Vincent came out of what looked like a trance and walked over to the corpse of the illusionist, plucking his weapon of choice out from its perforated neck.
“Now that he’s dead we won’t have to bother about watching our backs” Gilliam said with obvious relief. “There’s no one to chase us to the end of the world”.
Darius was busy with wiping his blade with a spare cloth, but he heard the words just fine. “However, we still don’t know why he was after us in the first place” the soldier said. “There could be more like him, waiting to take his spot once he goes down”.
“If they come, we shall deal with them just like we’ve done with Ignus”.
It had been Vincent who said those words, and the conviction with which he did so made the rest feel as if there was no other option, if only for a moment. “Well put, squire” Hantel praised with a smile as he finished his healing spell on him.
“Feh, they barely have anything” Gon was complaining. “Even the all-powerful Ignus barely has items of use”. The roguish soldier placed one of the apprentice’s robes on the ground in order to display the items he had acquired through the body-search. The objects included Ignus’ robe, which was etched in runes along the sleeves; the two wands from the apprentices, several magic scrolls from the illusionist, along with a pendant he had been wearing and a pair of silver bracers.
“All magical” Kahleen observed after summoning a simple power to assess the item’s essence. Gon smiled proudly and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve got a good eye for this kind of thing, y’know?”. The rest gathered around the display in order to take a better look.
Bending down on his knees a bit, Gilliam scanned each object for a brief while. “We can’t tell what they do until we get an experienced arcane user to do so” he said with a sigh. “This will have to wait until Tidebreaker, then” the mercenary concluded as he straightened up.
“Tidebreaker?” Darius asked at an obvious loss. “The fortress set up by House Dagoth?”.
“The one and only” Gon replied in the mercenary’s stead. “Geez, Broken Blade, you really need to fill that tiny brain of yours with more worldly knowledge!” the red-haired man said with exasperation. This drew a scowl from Darius. Before the blond soldier could give his opinion over Gon’s intellect, Kahleen interjected.
“We should make it there in five days, which means we’ll have to hunt in order to have something to eat” she informed the group in her serene voice. In normal circumstances, the notion would’ve been accepted without so much as a blink; yet these were not normal circumstances by any means, as the Spirit Wood was not a typical forest in which one with expertise can easily catch animals for dinner. The expression that formed on Gilliam’s face pretty much indicated how much he was looking forward to hunting in the enchanted woods.
“As long as Berethor guides us, we will be fine”.
It was not Hantel who said this, but Vincent, leaving the others quite surprised, and the priest quite happy. “Indeed, that’s all we really need, in the end” the aged priest agreed with a nod.
Gon wrapped all the items in the cloak they laid on and begun to stuff it into his backpack. “I’m ready” he announced. Gilliam recovered his swords, and as he bent down to do so noticed something peculiar. “What’s this?” he wondered as he picked up a small ivory token shaped like a whip. Like the whip that had attacked him not long ago, to be precise.
“It must be the item’s actual shape before it’s utilized” Kahleen theorized. “We’ll need to find out its command word if we are to use it”. Reluctant as he was to keep the object that had caused him difficulties in the past, Gilliam decided that he might as well turn his enemy’s weapons into his. The mercenary pocketed the token without another word.
Everyone reported to be ready, and so they walked onwards, their destination the same as before, their path less dangerous now that the illusionist had been slain.
However, Darius remained behind, walking much slower than the rest, and soon there were several feet of distance between him and Gon, who was at the back of the formation.
“Keep going, I’ll deal with him” Gilliam told the others upon noticing the soldier’s behavior. He trotted back to where Darius was now standing, and saw him glancing around awkwardly.
Gilliam stood ten feet in front of Darius, hands on hips. “Well?” he asked at length, seeing that the soldier did not give an explanation for staying behind. Darius seemed to come out of a trance then, and he blinked twice.
“Are you coming with us or what?” the mercenary insisted, keeping his tone even.
Darius sighed deeply. “You actually expect me to continue traveling with you?” he asked in disbelief. Gilliam’s eyebrow went up. “Yes, I actually do, Darius”.
“Why?”.
The question had Gilliam thinking for a moment, out of surprise. “Because you are a part of this group, and our group is heading towards the north of the continent” the mercenary responded with a rather condescending tone. “Good enough?”.
The blond warrior shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I’m doing anything for this group, other than getting in other’s way and risking my own life. I’m not prepared for this, Gilliam”.
His words drew a chuckle from Gilliam. “Really? And you think that any of the rest were somehow prepared to deal with any of the situations we’ve been through?”.
Ignoring his words, Darius went on. “I’m just a soldier, Gilliam, not a knight like you’ve attempted to make me believe!” he practically shouted. “And I don’t believe I can go through any more battles, any more encounters with death. This isn’t for me”.
Gilliam nodded as he considered the words. “True enough… you’re not a knight” he agreed. “You’re a coward”. Darius looked hurt by the comment, but did not deny it. “And we don’t need cowards in this group, Darius Broken Blade”.
The mercenary placed his index finger pointing at Darius. “Go away”.
“What?” the soldier asked dumbfounded. “You’re just letting me go?”.
“You expect me to try to convince you otherwise?” Gilliam asked incredulously. “I can’t keep dragging you along the journey, Darius, not anymore. I thought that if I gave you a little push you’d spread your wings and fly on your own, but it seems as if you’re afraid of doing the flying part”. He shrugged as if it really did not matter. “In the end, you’ve proved me wrong: you can’t fly by yourself. You’re a coward, and as such you can’t stay with us”.
Gilliam gestured towards the way that lead back home. “Go. Back to Master Ender, to whom you’ll report what we’ve done so far and of your own self-dismissal” he said with a tone that indicated a settled matter.
Darius remained frozen on the spot for a long moment, silent; his head tilted down in defeat, his shoulders slumped. He moved his lips and a barely audible sound came out at length.
“What was that?” Gilliam asked with curiosity.
“I said no” Darius repeated, louder.
“Oh, so you want to stay, coward?” Gilliam taunted.
“I’m not going anywhere save forward” Darius insisted, his voice obtaining more conviction with each word. His posture had gone back to normal, and he was now facing Gilliam.
“I won’t let you” the mercenary responded, drawing his twin swords in a flash and entering a battle stance. “You’ll have to kill me if you want to continue the journey” he said with grim finality.
Darius hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second; he drew his own blade at once, assuming a fighting pose as well. “If that’s what it takes”.
“You’d try to defeat me, someone clearly more skilled than you, in order to advance?” Gilliam asked.
“I’ll cut down anything in my path” Darius responded with a slash that was meant to emphasize his intent.
“Why?”.
The question appeared to take the soldier by surprise. “Because…” he began, and trailed off. It took him an extra second to find the answer. “Because I have my honor, and without it I’m nothing, just like House Kashtar or the Honor Guard”.
Gilliam sheathed his blades just as quickly as he had drawn them. “Good enough” he said approvingly with a nod. “Let’s make haste and join the rest then”. The mercenary turned around and began walking without another word, leaving Darius even more perplexed.
A test, then Darius reasoned, and he put his own sword away. Together, they jogged to reach the group, who were actually waiting in place for the two of them.
“What took you so long, boss?” Gon inquired with annoyance.
With a sly smile on his face, Gilliam passed him by and went back to the front of the group. “Oh, just discussing Darius’ future training”.
“Training?” the rest, Darius included, asked.
“Yes, knightly training” Gilliam responded matter-of-factly.
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Still here. Mwahahahaha! ![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Reading: Nuklear Age. Why did I find out about this Golden Jewel just now? Why not, like, ten years ago? Wait, it hadn't been written back then...
Here, have a chapter
Chapter 33
Forked paths
Darius blocked the incoming slash with his blade, finding it hard to believe he accomplished the task, for the bastard sword had come at him with impossible speed and power. He did not have time for a counter, for another such blade was making its way towards him, without giving him a chance to steady himself. The swords clanged loudly in the vast forest, filling its usual silence with the ring of steel against adamantine.
“Good” Gilliam praised as he jumped back, his body moving in a tight circle around Darius. “You’ve begun to defend yourself out of instinct, rather than relying on your senses”. The mercenary renewed his assault without warning, and Darius had to improvise yet another defensive maneuver for it.
“How-” the blond soldier gasped, “much… longer?”. His entire body was drenched in sweat and the simple shirt and pants he was wearing did not escape this fate. “I can’t move” he added after a quick intake of air.
Gilliam’s features darkened. “Forever! In battle, your foes won’t stop to give you time to recover, squire” the mentor chastised his student. This did not make Darius feel any less tired, however, and he looked like a withered tree that only need a soft breeze to knock it down. His reply came in form of collapsing face down to the soft grass beneath his feet.
“That was close to half an hour” Gilliam assessed with a nod of satisfaction after he checked the hourglass he had put nearby. “Pretty good”.
---oOo---
Meanwhile, not far away, Vincent sat on a fallen tree right next to Hantel, the latter repeating the passage he had just read from the Tome of Light for the apprentice to analyze.
“The light of Clarity will lead us, young and old, strong and weak, fair and foul, as one, into the realm of Berethor, for he judges not from what’s in one’s body, but from what lies within”.
Vincent gazed at the opened tome with intensity, his chin resting on one hand, and he seemed almost frozen in time for the duration of his analysis. At length, he blinked. “Berethor only cares for our spirits, not our bodies” he said slowly, measuring each word with unusual care. The elven squire looked at the Seer for confirmation, and a brief smile informed him that his conclusion was accurate.
“Very good, acolyte, very good” Hantel said. “You take your time to consider each passage, but in the end you see what it means by yourself. Very good”.
For how much time they had been studying the holy book, no one knew. And in reality, neither of them cared, for they were too absorbed in the task, especially Vincent. They heard the sounds of metal clanking every now and then in the distance, but it did not stir either man from their study.
The priest flipped the page of the Tome and pointed with his finger at the next line as he read. “And only those who humble themselves unto Berethor, the Light of Clarity, will be able to see the Path. Those pure souls, filled with desire to follow the Path, will strive with compassion, integrity, and above all, peace, as they travel, enlightening others as they go…”.
On and on it went, neither of them tiring. Hantel’s joy grew from passing over the teachings of his religion just as much as Vincent’s dedication towards its dogma.
---oOo---
“Are they going to do this every God-forsaken-morning?” Gon asked with a prolonged groan. He paced left to right in a small clearing fifty feet away from the others, excluding Kahleen, who sat cross-legged on the ground in the same clearing.
“Depending on their determination” the shaman replied with words that were as deep as usual. This, of course, did nothing but annoy the already-annoyed soldier even more.
“First Broken Blade with this ‘knightly training’ business; now Vincent with this-this…” he said, trailing off at the end. He halted his pacing and subconsciously glanced the priest’s way. “… priestly business. Bah!”. Off went Gon into pacing back and forth once again, mumbling curses as he did.
He noticed Kahleen’s strange posture was practically still, not unlike many of the trees in the accursed forest. “And what in the Hells are you doing?” Gon inquired without caring for interrupting her meditation.
“Becoming one with the spirits of the Nether in order to obtain their essence” she replied, cryptic as ever.
Gon groaned, and not for the last time in the day.
---oOo---
Other than the morning training that Vincent and Darius were undergoing, one hour that was taken away from their sleeping time, not much talking was being done otherwise, for the Spirit Wood demanded their complete focus once they were ready to move on for another set of miles. The place seemed infinite, the effect only heightened by the ever present mist, and for all they knew, it was actually endless.
The only one without superstitions about the forest was Kahleen, of course, for she had traveled through it once in her life.
Three days of traveling later, the wood’s aura was beginning to alter the demeanor of each one of them in a subtle way. Gilliam was more on edge than usual, while Kahleen appeared even more relaxed. Darius and Vincent were tired most of the time, always going to sleep first, for their respective training drained their precious energies rather quickly every morning. On the other hand, Hantel started quoting lines from the Tome of Light at times to fill in the silence of the place, its frequency increasing with each passing day.
And Gon grew more annoyed and annoying than he ever had been in the past. Or at least that was what Gilliam figured, as he fantasized about his own blades and Gon’s innards.
“Wait”. Everyone did so, looking Vincent’s way afterwards, for he had called the halt to their march. It was the late afternoon, or so they figured, and the mist began to grow darker, thicker, as the barely visible shadows stretched.
Since there was nothing else he could perceive at the time, Darius felt compelled to ask “What is it?” at length. The squire lifted a hand in the air to request silence, and seemed to be focusing his hearing on the surroundings.
A quick gesture from Gilliam ordered everybody else to watch for attacks, and each of them drew their respective weapons as they assumed defensive stances.
Seconds passed in silence, slowly, yet nothing happened. Uneasy glances were directed at Vincent every now and then, hoping for an explanation, but none was given for the time being.
“I heard a wail” the squire informed them at length. His words did nothing but add more tension to the situation. “Like one from a spirit?” Gon asked, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. Vincent nodded slowly, and Gon seemed pained.
Gilliam began to speak, but was cut off when a ghostly sound emerged from the woods ahead of them, not that far away. “You’ve got good hearing, Vince; that thing is at least a hundred feet from us” the mercenary said. “How can we fight actual specters?” he asked, the question’s target being Kahleen.
“Magical weapons, but even those might not affect their insubstantial forms at times” the shaman responded, looking at Blood Moon with apprehension. “Magic might not affect them just as well”.
Another wail filled the air, closer. It sounded as if multiple voices were forming it, something that preoccupied the group to great lengths. How many could there be?
“What the Hells is that?” Darius practically shouted as he pointed in one direction ahead of them. A flash of greenish light had appeared for an instant within the mist, leaving no trace after going away. “I think I heard a voice…” the soldier said with uncertainty, gripping his sword firmly in two hands.
“Worry not. Berethor will protect us all” Hantel said reassuringly, although his words were not as effective as he had hoped, for yet another combined spectral scream filled the emptiness of the Spirit Wood, this time yet closer to the six.
“I think we’ll need more than one God for us to survive this” Gon was saying, just as a final unearthly screech invaded their ears and their minds, numbing their senses and forcing their muscles to shake against their will.
The wail announced the arrival of its source, a legion of ghosts, all humanoid in shape, their transparent green bodies hovering a foot above the ground. Each sported different wounds that had caused their demise in life, but they all shared one thing in common: a hungry, unholy look in their haunted faces, a desire to vanquish their living counterparts.
There were dozens of them. As one, they swarmed upon the group, giving them no more than a couple of seconds to react.
Gon heard someone utter a word with great force, but he could not make out what it was due to the wailing of the rushing spirits. Then a surge of intense blue light blinded him, and his scream was blocked by that of the undead horde.
Reading: Nuklear Age. Why did I find out about this Golden Jewel just now? Why not, like, ten years ago? Wait, it hadn't been written back then...
Here, have a chapter
Chapter 33
Forked paths
Darius blocked the incoming slash with his blade, finding it hard to believe he accomplished the task, for the bastard sword had come at him with impossible speed and power. He did not have time for a counter, for another such blade was making its way towards him, without giving him a chance to steady himself. The swords clanged loudly in the vast forest, filling its usual silence with the ring of steel against adamantine.
“Good” Gilliam praised as he jumped back, his body moving in a tight circle around Darius. “You’ve begun to defend yourself out of instinct, rather than relying on your senses”. The mercenary renewed his assault without warning, and Darius had to improvise yet another defensive maneuver for it.
“How-” the blond soldier gasped, “much… longer?”. His entire body was drenched in sweat and the simple shirt and pants he was wearing did not escape this fate. “I can’t move” he added after a quick intake of air.
Gilliam’s features darkened. “Forever! In battle, your foes won’t stop to give you time to recover, squire” the mentor chastised his student. This did not make Darius feel any less tired, however, and he looked like a withered tree that only need a soft breeze to knock it down. His reply came in form of collapsing face down to the soft grass beneath his feet.
“That was close to half an hour” Gilliam assessed with a nod of satisfaction after he checked the hourglass he had put nearby. “Pretty good”.
---oOo---
Meanwhile, not far away, Vincent sat on a fallen tree right next to Hantel, the latter repeating the passage he had just read from the Tome of Light for the apprentice to analyze.
“The light of Clarity will lead us, young and old, strong and weak, fair and foul, as one, into the realm of Berethor, for he judges not from what’s in one’s body, but from what lies within”.
Vincent gazed at the opened tome with intensity, his chin resting on one hand, and he seemed almost frozen in time for the duration of his analysis. At length, he blinked. “Berethor only cares for our spirits, not our bodies” he said slowly, measuring each word with unusual care. The elven squire looked at the Seer for confirmation, and a brief smile informed him that his conclusion was accurate.
“Very good, acolyte, very good” Hantel said. “You take your time to consider each passage, but in the end you see what it means by yourself. Very good”.
For how much time they had been studying the holy book, no one knew. And in reality, neither of them cared, for they were too absorbed in the task, especially Vincent. They heard the sounds of metal clanking every now and then in the distance, but it did not stir either man from their study.
The priest flipped the page of the Tome and pointed with his finger at the next line as he read. “And only those who humble themselves unto Berethor, the Light of Clarity, will be able to see the Path. Those pure souls, filled with desire to follow the Path, will strive with compassion, integrity, and above all, peace, as they travel, enlightening others as they go…”.
On and on it went, neither of them tiring. Hantel’s joy grew from passing over the teachings of his religion just as much as Vincent’s dedication towards its dogma.
---oOo---
“Are they going to do this every God-forsaken-morning?” Gon asked with a prolonged groan. He paced left to right in a small clearing fifty feet away from the others, excluding Kahleen, who sat cross-legged on the ground in the same clearing.
“Depending on their determination” the shaman replied with words that were as deep as usual. This, of course, did nothing but annoy the already-annoyed soldier even more.
“First Broken Blade with this ‘knightly training’ business; now Vincent with this-this…” he said, trailing off at the end. He halted his pacing and subconsciously glanced the priest’s way. “… priestly business. Bah!”. Off went Gon into pacing back and forth once again, mumbling curses as he did.
He noticed Kahleen’s strange posture was practically still, not unlike many of the trees in the accursed forest. “And what in the Hells are you doing?” Gon inquired without caring for interrupting her meditation.
“Becoming one with the spirits of the Nether in order to obtain their essence” she replied, cryptic as ever.
Gon groaned, and not for the last time in the day.
---oOo---
Other than the morning training that Vincent and Darius were undergoing, one hour that was taken away from their sleeping time, not much talking was being done otherwise, for the Spirit Wood demanded their complete focus once they were ready to move on for another set of miles. The place seemed infinite, the effect only heightened by the ever present mist, and for all they knew, it was actually endless.
The only one without superstitions about the forest was Kahleen, of course, for she had traveled through it once in her life.
Three days of traveling later, the wood’s aura was beginning to alter the demeanor of each one of them in a subtle way. Gilliam was more on edge than usual, while Kahleen appeared even more relaxed. Darius and Vincent were tired most of the time, always going to sleep first, for their respective training drained their precious energies rather quickly every morning. On the other hand, Hantel started quoting lines from the Tome of Light at times to fill in the silence of the place, its frequency increasing with each passing day.
And Gon grew more annoyed and annoying than he ever had been in the past. Or at least that was what Gilliam figured, as he fantasized about his own blades and Gon’s innards.
“Wait”. Everyone did so, looking Vincent’s way afterwards, for he had called the halt to their march. It was the late afternoon, or so they figured, and the mist began to grow darker, thicker, as the barely visible shadows stretched.
Since there was nothing else he could perceive at the time, Darius felt compelled to ask “What is it?” at length. The squire lifted a hand in the air to request silence, and seemed to be focusing his hearing on the surroundings.
A quick gesture from Gilliam ordered everybody else to watch for attacks, and each of them drew their respective weapons as they assumed defensive stances.
Seconds passed in silence, slowly, yet nothing happened. Uneasy glances were directed at Vincent every now and then, hoping for an explanation, but none was given for the time being.
“I heard a wail” the squire informed them at length. His words did nothing but add more tension to the situation. “Like one from a spirit?” Gon asked, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. Vincent nodded slowly, and Gon seemed pained.
Gilliam began to speak, but was cut off when a ghostly sound emerged from the woods ahead of them, not that far away. “You’ve got good hearing, Vince; that thing is at least a hundred feet from us” the mercenary said. “How can we fight actual specters?” he asked, the question’s target being Kahleen.
“Magical weapons, but even those might not affect their insubstantial forms at times” the shaman responded, looking at Blood Moon with apprehension. “Magic might not affect them just as well”.
Another wail filled the air, closer. It sounded as if multiple voices were forming it, something that preoccupied the group to great lengths. How many could there be?
“What the Hells is that?” Darius practically shouted as he pointed in one direction ahead of them. A flash of greenish light had appeared for an instant within the mist, leaving no trace after going away. “I think I heard a voice…” the soldier said with uncertainty, gripping his sword firmly in two hands.
“Worry not. Berethor will protect us all” Hantel said reassuringly, although his words were not as effective as he had hoped, for yet another combined spectral scream filled the emptiness of the Spirit Wood, this time yet closer to the six.
“I think we’ll need more than one God for us to survive this” Gon was saying, just as a final unearthly screech invaded their ears and their minds, numbing their senses and forcing their muscles to shake against their will.
The wail announced the arrival of its source, a legion of ghosts, all humanoid in shape, their transparent green bodies hovering a foot above the ground. Each sported different wounds that had caused their demise in life, but they all shared one thing in common: a hungry, unholy look in their haunted faces, a desire to vanquish their living counterparts.
There were dozens of them. As one, they swarmed upon the group, giving them no more than a couple of seconds to react.
Gon heard someone utter a word with great force, but he could not make out what it was due to the wailing of the rushing spirits. Then a surge of intense blue light blinded him, and his scream was blocked by that of the undead horde.
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Chapter 34
Azure Nimbus
The Path was clear. For an instant, a fraction of a second, the road to Clarity opened, and Hantel Raft was able to take another step forward, getting closer to the goal of his life. He unleashed the divine essence within his body as he struck the ground with his staff firmly, releasing a wave of blue light that engulfed all the nearby spirits that had intended to slay him and his friends. This had the consequence of temporarily blinding his allies, but more importantly, showing each Nether being the Path towards the Kingdom of Light, what some knew as heaven.
Since the spirits had been derailed from the Path, they never found rest at the end of their lives, making them restless, angry and resentful towards those who yet lived in the world. But Hantel’s Azure Nimbus pierced through that loathing and their essence, stopping each specter in mid-flight like a hurricane buffeted flying birds, and dissipating their incorporeal forms. More than a dozen spirits found rest at last, sending them from the Nether realm to the Kingdom of Light.
By then, the intense blue light of the Nimbus faded, leaving a surreal after-image of the divine power, along with an empty circle around the group where the first wave of spirits had been mere seconds ago. Gon uncovered his eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly in order to regain his normal sight. Everyone else, save for the priest, imitated him.
Gilliam began to ask what in the Hells had just happened when Hantel cut him off.
“It’s not over yet”.
His words were proved true when the remaining rushing wave of phantoms occupied the spots of their departed undead comrades. Their hands outstretched for the flesh of the six, the ghosts came from all directions at once, possibly more than two dozen surging in unison, wailing as one mad entity.
Without hesitating, the Seer of Berethor struck the grass in front of him with his sturdy walking staff once more, summoning another blinding Azure Nimbus. The effect was the same as before: not a single spirit was left near them after the light was gone.
Silence was king in the Spirit Wood then, but its reign was short, for voices could be heard ahead of the group. “I told you it would cause them to act in frenzy! It’s because of pure luck that we’re not dead” a man was saying to another, although their figures were barely a dark silhouette in the mist. “How else do you expect me to fill these God-forsaken crystals?” the other replied with equal anger.
They kept on talking about crystals of some sort, but none of the six were listening; Gilliam quickly gave hand signals his comrades for some quick action. A finger-point sent Gon into the mist ahead, silent like a shadow. A clenched fist then told Vincent and Darius to remain close to the casters, while Gilliam himself assumed a position a few feet ahead in order to see where Gon was. Even though he had seen the rogue swallowed by the mist barely two seconds ago and he was already out of sight.
“Where the Hell did you put the crystal?” one of the men demanded to know with frustration. Sounds of intense ground-level search came after the words, indicating that the second man did not have an answer at the time. The first one began to yell further insults at the other one, making harsh comments about the other’s masculinity, followed by barely veiled allusions to incest.
Just then Gon returned, and the rogue did not scare the living Hell out of the rest in virtue of making his footsteps audible on purpose when he neared them. “Light armored folk, well armed, only two of them” the scout reported swiftly in a low voice. “One had a small crystal in his hand, almost like a diamond, but didn’t look valuable for the purpose of jewelry”.
“We can’t just let them go away” Darius said. “They caused the spirits to attack us; what if they’re doing this repeatedly, and causing harm to others?”. Vincent nodded in agreement, and looked at Gilliam for the order to move ahead. The mercenary nodded and signaled to march forward, full speed.
They ran as one, with Gilliam and Gon leading the charge, and in the span of fifteen seconds they reached the place where Gon reported to have seen the duo. There was no one there.
“What” Gilliam sputtered. The rest appeared as troubled as him. “We should’ve heard them move away, this isn’t normal” Kahleen observed with a grave tone. She had an arrow ready on Blood Moon, and did not take it down at the absence of enemies.
“Maybe they used some sort of arcane power?” Darius theorized as he scanned the vicinity of the area.
Hantel took several slow breaths to regain his energies, for that lone rush had cost him. “Very likely; there’s no other way a mortal being can elude others so quickly and effectively”.
“What can you deduce from the tracks?” Gilliam asked Gon, who had started analyzing the footprints on the ground out of his own initiative. The rogue was focused on a set of barely-visible tracks as he bent low to see better, and shook his head at length.
“Freaking impossible” the red-haired soldier muttered. “The tracks don’t come or go; they just show they were here. It’s as if they made the rest disappear”. No one said anything, dumbfounded as they were.
“Shamans can do such things, but I wouldn’t say those two qualify as such” Kahleen said. “Then again, wizards and priests can teleport themselves over great distances, thus reducing the number of tracks”.
“I’m not very knowledgeable in matters such as this, but I don’t see what else we can do here” Hantel said calmly. He gestured towards the direction in which they were to go. “I say we continue the journey”.
All eyes turned to Gilliam, who was standing still in his spot, hands on his hips, looking grim. At length, as if resigning himself to letting the two mysterious men go, he nodded and began the march anew.
Gon started to get up from the ground when a flash caught his eye. Brushing away a couple of fallen leaves and branches allowed him to find its source: a small crystal, like the one the man he had spied upon had. However, this one was different, with a faint green glow shimmering within.
“Lookie here” the wily soldier said as he held out the hand with the treasure. “This is what they were looking for”. Everyone stopped walking and turned to face him.
Hantel rubbed his chin in deep thought as he considered the object. Kahleen gasped silently and paled, but only Darius seemed to notice this. The soldier approached her and placed an armored hand upon her shoulder, a concerned look on his face. This made the shaman return to her more relaxed mood, and she smiled briefly at him to indicate she was fine. Her one eye was still filled with fear, however.
“One more thing to have identified at Tidebreaker” Vincent concluded, and Gilliam nodded in agreement. “Maybe this will answer our questions”.
“More often than not, answers lead to more questions” Hantel declared wisely. “That gem is filled with the essence of a spirit, but as to why it was trapped in there, I don’t really know”.
Without another word, Gon pocketed the crystal and resumed the walk. As the rest did as well, Darius and Kahleen remained behind, if only for a brief moment.
“What troubles you?” the blond soldier inquired. The shaman shook her head and started to move towards the group.
“That gem,” she said as she went “such an object was used to trap the essence that was stolen from me, all those years ago in my tribe”.
Like Hantel had said, that one answer brought forth several questions about Kahleen’s troubled past. But Darius did not have the time to dwell on that, and so he went after the group as well.
They continued their journey to the end of the Spirit Wood, towards the fortress, Tidebreaker.
Azure Nimbus
The Path was clear. For an instant, a fraction of a second, the road to Clarity opened, and Hantel Raft was able to take another step forward, getting closer to the goal of his life. He unleashed the divine essence within his body as he struck the ground with his staff firmly, releasing a wave of blue light that engulfed all the nearby spirits that had intended to slay him and his friends. This had the consequence of temporarily blinding his allies, but more importantly, showing each Nether being the Path towards the Kingdom of Light, what some knew as heaven.
Since the spirits had been derailed from the Path, they never found rest at the end of their lives, making them restless, angry and resentful towards those who yet lived in the world. But Hantel’s Azure Nimbus pierced through that loathing and their essence, stopping each specter in mid-flight like a hurricane buffeted flying birds, and dissipating their incorporeal forms. More than a dozen spirits found rest at last, sending them from the Nether realm to the Kingdom of Light.
By then, the intense blue light of the Nimbus faded, leaving a surreal after-image of the divine power, along with an empty circle around the group where the first wave of spirits had been mere seconds ago. Gon uncovered his eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly in order to regain his normal sight. Everyone else, save for the priest, imitated him.
Gilliam began to ask what in the Hells had just happened when Hantel cut him off.
“It’s not over yet”.
His words were proved true when the remaining rushing wave of phantoms occupied the spots of their departed undead comrades. Their hands outstretched for the flesh of the six, the ghosts came from all directions at once, possibly more than two dozen surging in unison, wailing as one mad entity.
Without hesitating, the Seer of Berethor struck the grass in front of him with his sturdy walking staff once more, summoning another blinding Azure Nimbus. The effect was the same as before: not a single spirit was left near them after the light was gone.
Silence was king in the Spirit Wood then, but its reign was short, for voices could be heard ahead of the group. “I told you it would cause them to act in frenzy! It’s because of pure luck that we’re not dead” a man was saying to another, although their figures were barely a dark silhouette in the mist. “How else do you expect me to fill these God-forsaken crystals?” the other replied with equal anger.
They kept on talking about crystals of some sort, but none of the six were listening; Gilliam quickly gave hand signals his comrades for some quick action. A finger-point sent Gon into the mist ahead, silent like a shadow. A clenched fist then told Vincent and Darius to remain close to the casters, while Gilliam himself assumed a position a few feet ahead in order to see where Gon was. Even though he had seen the rogue swallowed by the mist barely two seconds ago and he was already out of sight.
“Where the Hell did you put the crystal?” one of the men demanded to know with frustration. Sounds of intense ground-level search came after the words, indicating that the second man did not have an answer at the time. The first one began to yell further insults at the other one, making harsh comments about the other’s masculinity, followed by barely veiled allusions to incest.
Just then Gon returned, and the rogue did not scare the living Hell out of the rest in virtue of making his footsteps audible on purpose when he neared them. “Light armored folk, well armed, only two of them” the scout reported swiftly in a low voice. “One had a small crystal in his hand, almost like a diamond, but didn’t look valuable for the purpose of jewelry”.
“We can’t just let them go away” Darius said. “They caused the spirits to attack us; what if they’re doing this repeatedly, and causing harm to others?”. Vincent nodded in agreement, and looked at Gilliam for the order to move ahead. The mercenary nodded and signaled to march forward, full speed.
They ran as one, with Gilliam and Gon leading the charge, and in the span of fifteen seconds they reached the place where Gon reported to have seen the duo. There was no one there.
“What” Gilliam sputtered. The rest appeared as troubled as him. “We should’ve heard them move away, this isn’t normal” Kahleen observed with a grave tone. She had an arrow ready on Blood Moon, and did not take it down at the absence of enemies.
“Maybe they used some sort of arcane power?” Darius theorized as he scanned the vicinity of the area.
Hantel took several slow breaths to regain his energies, for that lone rush had cost him. “Very likely; there’s no other way a mortal being can elude others so quickly and effectively”.
“What can you deduce from the tracks?” Gilliam asked Gon, who had started analyzing the footprints on the ground out of his own initiative. The rogue was focused on a set of barely-visible tracks as he bent low to see better, and shook his head at length.
“Freaking impossible” the red-haired soldier muttered. “The tracks don’t come or go; they just show they were here. It’s as if they made the rest disappear”. No one said anything, dumbfounded as they were.
“Shamans can do such things, but I wouldn’t say those two qualify as such” Kahleen said. “Then again, wizards and priests can teleport themselves over great distances, thus reducing the number of tracks”.
“I’m not very knowledgeable in matters such as this, but I don’t see what else we can do here” Hantel said calmly. He gestured towards the direction in which they were to go. “I say we continue the journey”.
All eyes turned to Gilliam, who was standing still in his spot, hands on his hips, looking grim. At length, as if resigning himself to letting the two mysterious men go, he nodded and began the march anew.
Gon started to get up from the ground when a flash caught his eye. Brushing away a couple of fallen leaves and branches allowed him to find its source: a small crystal, like the one the man he had spied upon had. However, this one was different, with a faint green glow shimmering within.
“Lookie here” the wily soldier said as he held out the hand with the treasure. “This is what they were looking for”. Everyone stopped walking and turned to face him.
Hantel rubbed his chin in deep thought as he considered the object. Kahleen gasped silently and paled, but only Darius seemed to notice this. The soldier approached her and placed an armored hand upon her shoulder, a concerned look on his face. This made the shaman return to her more relaxed mood, and she smiled briefly at him to indicate she was fine. Her one eye was still filled with fear, however.
“One more thing to have identified at Tidebreaker” Vincent concluded, and Gilliam nodded in agreement. “Maybe this will answer our questions”.
“More often than not, answers lead to more questions” Hantel declared wisely. “That gem is filled with the essence of a spirit, but as to why it was trapped in there, I don’t really know”.
Without another word, Gon pocketed the crystal and resumed the walk. As the rest did as well, Darius and Kahleen remained behind, if only for a brief moment.
“What troubles you?” the blond soldier inquired. The shaman shook her head and started to move towards the group.
“That gem,” she said as she went “such an object was used to trap the essence that was stolen from me, all those years ago in my tribe”.
Like Hantel had said, that one answer brought forth several questions about Kahleen’s troubled past. But Darius did not have the time to dwell on that, and so he went after the group as well.
They continued their journey to the end of the Spirit Wood, towards the fortress, Tidebreaker.
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
Here's the next chapter. To be frank, I've felt like the words took ages to come to me when I wrote it, and it took longer than usual to write it up, for no particular reason. Kinda depressing, if you ask me.
But hey, I'm not going to stop writing just because I'm like this one day; tomorrow I'll probably feel better, so no worries. Hopefully the writing in this one isn't worse off than the average.
Chapter 35
Unusual guardians
“This can’t be the place”.
Darius’ was not alone in his denial; the rest shared a similar sentiment. “I’m afraid it’s the fortress that we’re looking for” Kahleen said, the only one who had passed by the area and thus knew how Tidebreaker looked like.
The fortress was four floors tall, rivaling Valor’s Banner in size, and taking into account that this was a safeguard against Barbarian invasions, that spoke volumes of the impressive sight it created. It was built on the southern side of the river that originated from the Dire Lake to the east, in order to offer added protection against attacks coming from the north. The stone walls were adorned with the banners of House Dagoth at regular intervals, a golden sun with a black background, but not a single guard was to be seen ‘adorning’ its outside figure.
Or rather, not a single mortal guard. These… beings, large humanoid toad-like monsters, with dark brown skin and fierce claws and teeth, set themselves as guards of the southern gate, one in each side of the entrance. It was redundant to say that they caused panic upon anyone who happened to meet them, even at a distance; but their presence, their aura, that was what brought uncontrollable shudders to the six travelers when they noticed the monstrous beings. Needless to say, they were not from this world.
“What are they?” Vincent whispered in a barely audible voice. Kahleen took a deep breath, as if to settle herself, before responding. “Daemons, bound by House Dagoth to protect the fortress”.
“Surely you jest” Gon whimpered, his lower lip trembling slightly. “Why in damnation would the House of Wisdom have daemons instead of normal guards?”.
Kahleen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone inside will enlighten us, for I didn’t ask about this matter in my previous visit”. She glanced the daemon’s way, and could not help but notice that the thing stared back at her, a hungry grin clearly visible through the mist that covered part of its face. The shaman tried to repress a shudder, and failed.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a daemon stop me from getting in” Gilliam muttered through clenched teeth. The mercenary’s fists were closed tightly around the hilt of each of his swords, but so far he had restrained his desire to draw adamantine out. He jumped when he felt a hand press on his shoulder from behind.
“Han, this isn’t the best time to scare the living Hell out of me” the nervous mercenary said, and Hantel smiled apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention. I simply want you to know that I’m with you, and so is Berethor, if it comes to a fight against such fell beasts” the priest informed him reassuringly. “Although it would be preferable to avoid such confrontations…” he added sheepishly, as his previous statement sounded like it encouraged such fights.
Gilliam nodded. “Good to know. Thank you, Han” he replied before turning around and facing the entrance once more. Its iron gates were shut, but he hoped that it would not remain the case for long.
“Let’s get this over with” Darius suggested. “The more we stay here, the more uneasy we’ll be”. Everyone responded or nodded their agreement, and as one they approached the gates.
They had made it ten feet away the daemons when both snarled at the group almost in unison, forcing them to a stop. Their breath was almost as bad as their bodily odor, which in turn rivaled that of the nastiest city sewers. How in damnation was Darius able to hold himself from vomiting, not even the soldier knew.
“Who are you, mortals, to dare enter the fortress of Dagoth?” one of the toad-like daemons bellowed, its daemonic voice echoing through the forest for a long while. With its large frame, it could easily reach for anyone in the group with its claws, if it so desired.
Gilliam had to swallow hard before mustering the will for a reply. “We, a band sent by House Suran to remedy some troubles in the north-“ he explained, and was cut off by the other daemon by means of a snarl.
“Your names, foolish human!” the otherworldly monster demanded. Gilliam, and for that matter everyone else, felt like stepping back one feet was perfectly reasonable at the time. “I-I’m Gilliam” the mercenary said. With a quick stealthy gesture from him, the rest followed suit and declared their names as well.
Both daemons seemed more at ease then (which meant no one would be devoured as of yet), and even went as far as nodding to the group, a gesture they understood as “Go in before we change our minds”. No one needed much encouragement to go past the pair of daemons and reach the iron doors to the fortress. Once they were in front if of them, they began to open out of their own accord, as no one was there to manipulate the double doors.
“There better be mortals-I mean humans and whatnot-in there” Gon said low enough so that the daemons did not hear as they went into Tidebreaker. The main tunnel that the doors lead to was pitch dark, which came as a surprise for the group.
“You’d think they can afford some torches here…” Gon quipped, squinting his eyes in vain to see in the dark. Then the double doors closed behind them, and after the solid of closure, everything was black. “Great. Doors that open on their own, but no lights. Who’s spending the budget in this place? A mentally disabled baby ogre?” the roguish soldier said with sarcasm.
“State your business” ordered a voice that emerged from all directions at once. It sounded imperial and unbending, like that of a seasoned general. This startled the six, but they managed to keep their composure in the absolute darkness that surrounded them.
“We seek to rest here, as part of our journey towards the Frostfell Mountains” Vincent declared. His voice echoed slightly through the corridor, and the response came after several seconds of eerie silence.
“And who has sent you in your quest?” the same voice demanded. This time, it was Darius who responded “House Kashtar, in order to assist House Suran”. Talking to this person in the dark felt awkward to say the least.
A moment of silence, followed by heavy footsteps. “Very well” the same speaker said. He uttered a strange word, which sounded like a signal, and the darkness gave way to the light of torches that were stationed along the tunnel entrance on both sides. Everybody in the group sighed in relief.
“Praise Berethor” Vincent and Hantel said as one.
Now they could see where they were: the tunnel was tall, close to fifteen feet in height, possibly to allow daemons to enter without problems. Elegant stone arcs were joined to the ceiling at consecutive intervals, and more banners of House Dagoth could be seen on the walls, following a similar pattern. The fortress smelled old, like it was not aired often enough, but at the same time it did not stink.
Kahleen was the first to notice a humanoid figure walking towards them from across the tunnel. The elf looked young, which could mean between thirty and a hundred years old, and moved with a grace that almost seemed second nature to him. His clothes were elegant, ideal for the typical swashbuckler and fencer, a combination of red and gold. The man was not good looking-he appeared as the epitome of physical perfection, being slim like a cat, no less agile than one, and at the same time having his body in excellent physical condition. This much could be perceived by the balanced steps he took in order to approach the six.
“You’ve finally arrived” the dashing elf commented, his tone smooth and no less elegant than his outfit. “I worried that you would stay outside in fear of the daemons that guard the gates”. Gilliam wanted to respond, but for the time being he first had to force himself to stop staring at the man; he was perfection incarnate, and it was difficult to not gawk at him with envy.
“Ah, yes, yes, that, the daemons…” the mercenary mumbled rather than said. He cleared his throat hastily in order to regain some semblance of coherent speech. “Well, it’s our first time here, save for Kahleen, who has passed by before” he explained with a gesture towards the shaman, who nodded.
The handsome fellow smiled. Gilliam felt like his heart had skipped a beat. “Understandable. Now that you’re within the walls of Tidebreaker, you may relax; nothing will harm you here” he said to them. “Unless, of course, you invoke the wrath of the castellan…” he added with a chuckle. “Not that you’d want to do that, naturally” he finished with a wink.
“My apologies, good sir, but I don’t believe we know who you are” Hantel said with a smile of his own. The elf brushed his snow white hair with a hand in an attempt to look awkward. “Ah, where have my manners gone to, this time?” he mused. “My name is Ephredesias, Steward of House Indoril, appointed by the god Indoril to be its guardian”.
His words were met with absolute silence spawned from complete disbelief. This man being one of the First certainly explained his literally divine charms and appearance. The First were beings crafted by the gods, imbued with divine powers.
“Should we bow?” Darius whispered as inconspicuously as possible.
“I’d say drop to the ground and grovel for mercy” Gon suggested in an equally stealthy way.
“Oh, please, I’ll have none of that!” Ephredesias said merrily with a movement of his hand. “Unlike, ah, other guardians, I don’t believe it to be necessary to demand absolute servitude from mortals”. His words put everyone at ease, and Vincent released a breath he had been holding since he heard the elf’s title.
“Well then, may we rest in here?” Gilliam asked in an overly-polite way. Ephredesias shook his head, much to his dismay. “I’m afraid that decision is up to the fortress’ castellan” the elegant First replied with a hint of amusement.
“That would be me” said a voice from behind Ephredesias. No one was entirely sure, but it sounded a lot like the first one they heard upon entering Tidebreaker. A more noble looking man came from behind the First of House Indoril, seemingly appearing from thin air. He was human, and his peculiar motif was gold and black, as his entire regal outfit consisted of those two colors: His jacket and leather trousers were mainly gold with black edges and lines running elegantly through them, while the boots were the opposite. On the center of his golden threaded velvet shirt was a black sun with waved and spiked rays around it. The value in gold pieces of his entire outfit equaled to that of a small house. The castellan’s hair was short and spiked backwards, a mixture of blond and dark hair, and whether it was originally blond or not it was hard to tell.
“You’re the castellan?” Gon inquired with some doubt. The man seemed fit to be the emperor of the land, rather than a castellan of Tidebreaker.
Gon’s query was answered by a stern look from the man clad in gold and black; never before did the rogue feel like running away at the speed of light was better than to have to endure that look.
“You doubt my claim, Gon, soldier of the Honor Guard?” the castellan asked, sounding very much like a king, with his potent voice resounding within the fortress’ tunnel. Gon swallowed hard and shook his head violently. He looked rather pale, Darius noticed, pretty much at the same time that Gon had not revealed his name yet.
“Now now, no reason to put extra pressure on your guests, is there?” Ephredesias said in an effort to put the castellan at ease. The imperial human appeared to pay no heed to this, which spoke volumes of his standing, for he had just ignored one of the First.
“Tidebreaker is one of the most powerful fortresses crafted by House Dagoth, and only I have the say about who stays and who doesn’t” the man went on, settling his penetrating gaze upon the other five. “I am Tallernos, the Black Sun, the initial First created by the god Dagoth”.
This revelation was the final nail on the coffin where the group’s worst fears laid. No one had seen the man until then, but only extremely ignorant folks did not know about him, or rather, his iron fisted behavior. No one made a move, fearful, and rightly so, of divine retribution.
“Your motives are sufficient to me” Tallernos said at length. “You may rest here for a day, and utilize the facilities of the fortress as well, which include the arcanists and smith”. With that, the castellan turned and began to walk away, clearly not seeing the group’s response as important. Ephredesias shrugged, as it was beyond his control, and followed suit after a quick salute.
“Wait” Kahleen called. “What now?” the castellan asked with a hint of impatience as he stopped walking and half-turned to look at the shaman, making Indoril’s First stopped as well. She gestured towards Gon, and for a brief moment he did not have a clue of what to do. Then he quickly dug into his pocket, bringing a gem with a green glow into view.
“Crystalline essence” Tallernos gasped, something that concerned the others. The castellan was suddenly right in front of Gon, even though he had been several feet away from the soldier a second ago, staring at the mysterious gem with intent.
“We must talk about this in private” he concluded with a dead serious demeanor. His words were directed to the six, and they all nodded firmly. With that settled, Tallernos turned once more before disappearing from sight. Ephredesias did the same without another word, leaving them all by themselves in the torch lit corridor.
“Quite the welcome” Gon commented with relief, now that the castellan had left.
“Could be worse” Darius replied. This drew an incredulous look from Gon. “Or maybe not” the blond soldier admitted.
“Not one, but two of the First in the same place?” Hantel mused out loud. “Most remarkable. Hopefully it doesn’t mean more trouble for any Noble House”. The priest commenced to walk forwards, seeing that no one else wanted to lead the way.
“I’ve never seen to one of the First, much less talked” Vincent admitted to Gilliam. The mercenary half-smiled at his words.
“Not as charming as one expected, yes?” Gilliam said.
“Yes for the first one, no for the second one” the squire admitted, and he went after Hantel. Darius and Gon did the same, walking at different paces once they noticed they were doing it in unison, and Gilliam saw no reason to stay in the entrance for another second.
This left the shaman alone by the doors.
“I only expect answers from you, Tallernos” Kahleen whispered. “The purpose of that monster taking away my life force, back when I was the shaman of the tribe… is it too much to ask?”.
She started to walk through the corridor at length, wiping her one eye with a forearm in order to get rid of some moisture that had appeared in it.
But hey, I'm not going to stop writing just because I'm like this one day; tomorrow I'll probably feel better, so no worries. Hopefully the writing in this one isn't worse off than the average.
Chapter 35
Unusual guardians
“This can’t be the place”.
Darius’ was not alone in his denial; the rest shared a similar sentiment. “I’m afraid it’s the fortress that we’re looking for” Kahleen said, the only one who had passed by the area and thus knew how Tidebreaker looked like.
The fortress was four floors tall, rivaling Valor’s Banner in size, and taking into account that this was a safeguard against Barbarian invasions, that spoke volumes of the impressive sight it created. It was built on the southern side of the river that originated from the Dire Lake to the east, in order to offer added protection against attacks coming from the north. The stone walls were adorned with the banners of House Dagoth at regular intervals, a golden sun with a black background, but not a single guard was to be seen ‘adorning’ its outside figure.
Or rather, not a single mortal guard. These… beings, large humanoid toad-like monsters, with dark brown skin and fierce claws and teeth, set themselves as guards of the southern gate, one in each side of the entrance. It was redundant to say that they caused panic upon anyone who happened to meet them, even at a distance; but their presence, their aura, that was what brought uncontrollable shudders to the six travelers when they noticed the monstrous beings. Needless to say, they were not from this world.
“What are they?” Vincent whispered in a barely audible voice. Kahleen took a deep breath, as if to settle herself, before responding. “Daemons, bound by House Dagoth to protect the fortress”.
“Surely you jest” Gon whimpered, his lower lip trembling slightly. “Why in damnation would the House of Wisdom have daemons instead of normal guards?”.
Kahleen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone inside will enlighten us, for I didn’t ask about this matter in my previous visit”. She glanced the daemon’s way, and could not help but notice that the thing stared back at her, a hungry grin clearly visible through the mist that covered part of its face. The shaman tried to repress a shudder, and failed.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a daemon stop me from getting in” Gilliam muttered through clenched teeth. The mercenary’s fists were closed tightly around the hilt of each of his swords, but so far he had restrained his desire to draw adamantine out. He jumped when he felt a hand press on his shoulder from behind.
“Han, this isn’t the best time to scare the living Hell out of me” the nervous mercenary said, and Hantel smiled apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention. I simply want you to know that I’m with you, and so is Berethor, if it comes to a fight against such fell beasts” the priest informed him reassuringly. “Although it would be preferable to avoid such confrontations…” he added sheepishly, as his previous statement sounded like it encouraged such fights.
Gilliam nodded. “Good to know. Thank you, Han” he replied before turning around and facing the entrance once more. Its iron gates were shut, but he hoped that it would not remain the case for long.
“Let’s get this over with” Darius suggested. “The more we stay here, the more uneasy we’ll be”. Everyone responded or nodded their agreement, and as one they approached the gates.
They had made it ten feet away the daemons when both snarled at the group almost in unison, forcing them to a stop. Their breath was almost as bad as their bodily odor, which in turn rivaled that of the nastiest city sewers. How in damnation was Darius able to hold himself from vomiting, not even the soldier knew.
“Who are you, mortals, to dare enter the fortress of Dagoth?” one of the toad-like daemons bellowed, its daemonic voice echoing through the forest for a long while. With its large frame, it could easily reach for anyone in the group with its claws, if it so desired.
Gilliam had to swallow hard before mustering the will for a reply. “We, a band sent by House Suran to remedy some troubles in the north-“ he explained, and was cut off by the other daemon by means of a snarl.
“Your names, foolish human!” the otherworldly monster demanded. Gilliam, and for that matter everyone else, felt like stepping back one feet was perfectly reasonable at the time. “I-I’m Gilliam” the mercenary said. With a quick stealthy gesture from him, the rest followed suit and declared their names as well.
Both daemons seemed more at ease then (which meant no one would be devoured as of yet), and even went as far as nodding to the group, a gesture they understood as “Go in before we change our minds”. No one needed much encouragement to go past the pair of daemons and reach the iron doors to the fortress. Once they were in front if of them, they began to open out of their own accord, as no one was there to manipulate the double doors.
“There better be mortals-I mean humans and whatnot-in there” Gon said low enough so that the daemons did not hear as they went into Tidebreaker. The main tunnel that the doors lead to was pitch dark, which came as a surprise for the group.
“You’d think they can afford some torches here…” Gon quipped, squinting his eyes in vain to see in the dark. Then the double doors closed behind them, and after the solid of closure, everything was black. “Great. Doors that open on their own, but no lights. Who’s spending the budget in this place? A mentally disabled baby ogre?” the roguish soldier said with sarcasm.
“State your business” ordered a voice that emerged from all directions at once. It sounded imperial and unbending, like that of a seasoned general. This startled the six, but they managed to keep their composure in the absolute darkness that surrounded them.
“We seek to rest here, as part of our journey towards the Frostfell Mountains” Vincent declared. His voice echoed slightly through the corridor, and the response came after several seconds of eerie silence.
“And who has sent you in your quest?” the same voice demanded. This time, it was Darius who responded “House Kashtar, in order to assist House Suran”. Talking to this person in the dark felt awkward to say the least.
A moment of silence, followed by heavy footsteps. “Very well” the same speaker said. He uttered a strange word, which sounded like a signal, and the darkness gave way to the light of torches that were stationed along the tunnel entrance on both sides. Everybody in the group sighed in relief.
“Praise Berethor” Vincent and Hantel said as one.
Now they could see where they were: the tunnel was tall, close to fifteen feet in height, possibly to allow daemons to enter without problems. Elegant stone arcs were joined to the ceiling at consecutive intervals, and more banners of House Dagoth could be seen on the walls, following a similar pattern. The fortress smelled old, like it was not aired often enough, but at the same time it did not stink.
Kahleen was the first to notice a humanoid figure walking towards them from across the tunnel. The elf looked young, which could mean between thirty and a hundred years old, and moved with a grace that almost seemed second nature to him. His clothes were elegant, ideal for the typical swashbuckler and fencer, a combination of red and gold. The man was not good looking-he appeared as the epitome of physical perfection, being slim like a cat, no less agile than one, and at the same time having his body in excellent physical condition. This much could be perceived by the balanced steps he took in order to approach the six.
“You’ve finally arrived” the dashing elf commented, his tone smooth and no less elegant than his outfit. “I worried that you would stay outside in fear of the daemons that guard the gates”. Gilliam wanted to respond, but for the time being he first had to force himself to stop staring at the man; he was perfection incarnate, and it was difficult to not gawk at him with envy.
“Ah, yes, yes, that, the daemons…” the mercenary mumbled rather than said. He cleared his throat hastily in order to regain some semblance of coherent speech. “Well, it’s our first time here, save for Kahleen, who has passed by before” he explained with a gesture towards the shaman, who nodded.
The handsome fellow smiled. Gilliam felt like his heart had skipped a beat. “Understandable. Now that you’re within the walls of Tidebreaker, you may relax; nothing will harm you here” he said to them. “Unless, of course, you invoke the wrath of the castellan…” he added with a chuckle. “Not that you’d want to do that, naturally” he finished with a wink.
“My apologies, good sir, but I don’t believe we know who you are” Hantel said with a smile of his own. The elf brushed his snow white hair with a hand in an attempt to look awkward. “Ah, where have my manners gone to, this time?” he mused. “My name is Ephredesias, Steward of House Indoril, appointed by the god Indoril to be its guardian”.
His words were met with absolute silence spawned from complete disbelief. This man being one of the First certainly explained his literally divine charms and appearance. The First were beings crafted by the gods, imbued with divine powers.
“Should we bow?” Darius whispered as inconspicuously as possible.
“I’d say drop to the ground and grovel for mercy” Gon suggested in an equally stealthy way.
“Oh, please, I’ll have none of that!” Ephredesias said merrily with a movement of his hand. “Unlike, ah, other guardians, I don’t believe it to be necessary to demand absolute servitude from mortals”. His words put everyone at ease, and Vincent released a breath he had been holding since he heard the elf’s title.
“Well then, may we rest in here?” Gilliam asked in an overly-polite way. Ephredesias shook his head, much to his dismay. “I’m afraid that decision is up to the fortress’ castellan” the elegant First replied with a hint of amusement.
“That would be me” said a voice from behind Ephredesias. No one was entirely sure, but it sounded a lot like the first one they heard upon entering Tidebreaker. A more noble looking man came from behind the First of House Indoril, seemingly appearing from thin air. He was human, and his peculiar motif was gold and black, as his entire regal outfit consisted of those two colors: His jacket and leather trousers were mainly gold with black edges and lines running elegantly through them, while the boots were the opposite. On the center of his golden threaded velvet shirt was a black sun with waved and spiked rays around it. The value in gold pieces of his entire outfit equaled to that of a small house. The castellan’s hair was short and spiked backwards, a mixture of blond and dark hair, and whether it was originally blond or not it was hard to tell.
“You’re the castellan?” Gon inquired with some doubt. The man seemed fit to be the emperor of the land, rather than a castellan of Tidebreaker.
Gon’s query was answered by a stern look from the man clad in gold and black; never before did the rogue feel like running away at the speed of light was better than to have to endure that look.
“You doubt my claim, Gon, soldier of the Honor Guard?” the castellan asked, sounding very much like a king, with his potent voice resounding within the fortress’ tunnel. Gon swallowed hard and shook his head violently. He looked rather pale, Darius noticed, pretty much at the same time that Gon had not revealed his name yet.
“Now now, no reason to put extra pressure on your guests, is there?” Ephredesias said in an effort to put the castellan at ease. The imperial human appeared to pay no heed to this, which spoke volumes of his standing, for he had just ignored one of the First.
“Tidebreaker is one of the most powerful fortresses crafted by House Dagoth, and only I have the say about who stays and who doesn’t” the man went on, settling his penetrating gaze upon the other five. “I am Tallernos, the Black Sun, the initial First created by the god Dagoth”.
This revelation was the final nail on the coffin where the group’s worst fears laid. No one had seen the man until then, but only extremely ignorant folks did not know about him, or rather, his iron fisted behavior. No one made a move, fearful, and rightly so, of divine retribution.
“Your motives are sufficient to me” Tallernos said at length. “You may rest here for a day, and utilize the facilities of the fortress as well, which include the arcanists and smith”. With that, the castellan turned and began to walk away, clearly not seeing the group’s response as important. Ephredesias shrugged, as it was beyond his control, and followed suit after a quick salute.
“Wait” Kahleen called. “What now?” the castellan asked with a hint of impatience as he stopped walking and half-turned to look at the shaman, making Indoril’s First stopped as well. She gestured towards Gon, and for a brief moment he did not have a clue of what to do. Then he quickly dug into his pocket, bringing a gem with a green glow into view.
“Crystalline essence” Tallernos gasped, something that concerned the others. The castellan was suddenly right in front of Gon, even though he had been several feet away from the soldier a second ago, staring at the mysterious gem with intent.
“We must talk about this in private” he concluded with a dead serious demeanor. His words were directed to the six, and they all nodded firmly. With that settled, Tallernos turned once more before disappearing from sight. Ephredesias did the same without another word, leaving them all by themselves in the torch lit corridor.
“Quite the welcome” Gon commented with relief, now that the castellan had left.
“Could be worse” Darius replied. This drew an incredulous look from Gon. “Or maybe not” the blond soldier admitted.
“Not one, but two of the First in the same place?” Hantel mused out loud. “Most remarkable. Hopefully it doesn’t mean more trouble for any Noble House”. The priest commenced to walk forwards, seeing that no one else wanted to lead the way.
“I’ve never seen to one of the First, much less talked” Vincent admitted to Gilliam. The mercenary half-smiled at his words.
“Not as charming as one expected, yes?” Gilliam said.
“Yes for the first one, no for the second one” the squire admitted, and he went after Hantel. Darius and Gon did the same, walking at different paces once they noticed they were doing it in unison, and Gilliam saw no reason to stay in the entrance for another second.
This left the shaman alone by the doors.
“I only expect answers from you, Tallernos” Kahleen whispered. “The purpose of that monster taking away my life force, back when I was the shaman of the tribe… is it too much to ask?”.
She started to walk through the corridor at length, wiping her one eye with a forearm in order to get rid of some moisture that had appeared in it.
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
I don't know what's going on with me. Really. Not that long ago, I was addicted to writing this stuff up. Now... I don't have the will to even think on how to write the next chapter. Could be that several things came to a closure (book I've been reading, story hour that ended, etc), but I really don't know what exactly is doing this to me, in the end.
I'll wait and see. I'm not going to throw this away just because I've been "down" for a couple of days, but I don't know for how long I should keep this thing alive. I'll give it half a month, and see if I have what it takes to continue writing then. If that fails, maybe do something else with me free time, like starting a PbP game in Rpol. Who knows.
I'll wait and see. I'm not going to throw this away just because I've been "down" for a couple of days, but I don't know for how long I should keep this thing alive. I'll give it half a month, and see if I have what it takes to continue writing then. If that fails, maybe do something else with me free time, like starting a PbP game in Rpol. Who knows.
Cerulean_Wings
First Post
I've been thinking for this last couple of days about my story hour, and I believe I've come to understanding why I don't feel like writing it anymore. You, the readers, aren't going to like this anymore than I do, but it's the truth: I don't like the way I write this story. I just don't. I tried writing chapter 36, and whatever I typed looked like pure trash. Really. I'm aware that as a newbie writer my stuff won't be gold, but if I don't even like what I'm writing... what's the point?
I'm afraid this will be the end of this story hour. There's a chance that I start another one, in a completely different setting (sci-fi rather than fantasy, for instance), but no guarantees. I feel as if changing gears will allow me to change my writing style.
I'm afraid this will be the end of this story hour. There's a chance that I start another one, in a completely different setting (sci-fi rather than fantasy, for instance), but no guarantees. I feel as if changing gears will allow me to change my writing style.
the Jester
Legend
Cerulean_Wings said:
Fair enough.
I would urge you to remember, though, that we're always our own worst critic.
Burningspear
First Post
the Jester said:
Agreed, and i just in 4,5 days read up on this thread, and i must say, you have an enjoying style, light, not to draining to read, and entertaining nonetheless...
So give yourself some reast, and try again in a week or 2, maybe then u see things in a different light.
thats my delurking effect anyway..
For myself, its a love to see others write, i have tons of ideas to play, and enough fentasy to fill up the ideas in worlds and character stories, yet i never seem to have the energy nor the audacity to actually write something myself (like many here do on the threads).
