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Post by Unguis on Sept 6, 2014 23:05:32 GMT -5
Chapter 1: A Message from the East
(Raktuber, Seventh Age 100)
Lewis pulled his horse up sharply as they neared the crossroads. Behind him, Aldrea followed suit as she spotted the dust cloud move down the eastern road.
“Good news or ill, do you think?” asked Lewis.
“Good by the looks of it,” replied Trinnia as she came up alongside of them. “A single messenger at such a leisurely pace on that path could hardly indicate disaster. Aught else would be good news.”
“I was wondering where you’d gotten to, Trinnia,” said Aldrea. “I know you might have less experience riding, but usually you can at least keep up with us.”
“Ah, so you didn’t leave your tongue back at the stables. I was beginning to wonder if you had for a while,” replied Trinnia. “It’s actually a wonder you were so near to me with my riding such a strange horse. Not a bit of inclination to jump in the beast, so I had to find a way around that fence a mile back. You just watch when once Autumn gets over those rocks you forced us into last week.”
“I’ve yet to see these skills you boast of, Trinnia,” responded Lewis. “You’re right, though about Aldrea. Something bothering you today that keeps you so quiet?”
“Not much out of the ordinary. It’s just the first real battle that my father has led and, I guess… I guess I was worried,” said Aldrea.
“Not wishing you were by his side anymore?” asked Lewis.
“Oh, no. Definitely I wish that. More than anything. It’s just… I guess I would be less worried were I there to make a difference. I still don’t understand why you didn’t accept my father’s offer to bring you along.”
“General Grayham would have brought you along? Why didn’t you take him up on that?” said Trinnia.
“Who would’ve been here to look after you, then? Make sure you two didn’t get into any trouble or marriage arrangements?” replied Lewis, at which both women started indignantly. “Besides, I doubt battle is actually the glorious thing all the poets sing about. To my knowledge, it’s just body-wearing effort and soul-wearying slaughter. I’m sure I’ll go about it well enough when the need arises; I just saw no reason to force it upon myself any sooner than necessary.”
“Oh, don’t get started on that high-minded nonsense again, Lewis,” responded Aldrea. “For you that’s all fine. But for me, for a woman, there are two paths in life: that of a wife and that of a warrior, and I certainly don’t plan on taking the first, not just yet at least.”
“I don’t plan on taking either,” said Trinnia, “though I do have knightly blood in my veins. I agree with Lewis on war: it’s not to be sought out, nor to be avoided. There are other ways I can serve Armadyl and the kingdom, and I’ll find them.”
“Always the idealist dreamer, Trinnia,” said Lewis, shaking his head. “Sometimes I think my great-great grandmother had altogether too much influence over you growing up. Remember that she too, though half-elven, went through the conventional ways. Ah, but here our messenger is. What news from the east?”
The messenger reigned in his horse and came to a stop about ten paces from them. “Very much good, but much ill also. To the council first I must tell the rest though.”
“What of my father?” asked Aldrea. “General Thomas Grayham, what of him? Is he still well?”
“Ah, Lady Grayham, I did not recognize you,” replied the messenger, dismounting and giving a small bow. “He was well when I left him a week ago. He was unhurt in the battle and was organizing the column that was to return here. I believe I may without reprimand impart to you that he was victorious and the bandits have surrendered. You must then be the young Lord Saelbour and Lady Valedaughter,” he said, bowing to each in turn. “It is good to make your acquaintances, but I must now hasten back to Wolfchester with my report. If you will excuse me—”
“Hold a minute,” said Lewis. “Why not allow us to ride with you and keep you company on the road. You need not fear that we will slow you down.”
“I would be honoured by that, Lord Saelbour,” answered the young man.
“What is your name, messenger?” inquired Lewis as they set off.
“Androl Stabler, sir. Sergeant in the First Light Cavalry Division, and I do not think it boasting to say the fastest rider in my whole unit.”
As they road on eastward, the two women dropped to the rear and Lewis was left next to the messenger.
“Androl,” he said, keeping his voice low, “how did the battle go?”
“I’m sorry, Lord Saelbour,” replied the sergeant,” but I have told you all I can reveal before the council—”
“I am not asking for your report as a sergeant. I was asking for your opinion as a man. Was warfare all that they sing about?”
“I am no coward, Lord Saelbour.”
“I never said you were, sergeant. I was in earnest about the question.”
“I would rather not speak of it with ladies—”
“You need not worry about corrupting them. They’ve corrupted themselves already more than any tales of your blood and death will.”
“Well, sir, I… I… I don’t know what to say about it. There was pride in that we executed our orders and brought the kingdom victory, but… we lost a lot of good men, some of my friends too. I… well, I don’t what I expected, but I certainly didn’t get it. We’ll be praised as heroes at home, and maybe we are. But, well… all I know is I didn’t feel like a hero after the battle. Don’t take that the wrong way, sir, I—”
“It’s okay, sergeant. I’m not going to tell anyone that you weren’t the perfect hero everyone imagines warriors are. I just wanted to make sure I was right. Maybe you didn’t feel it, but you did earn the glories you’ll get at home. Thank you. Aldrea, Trinnia, I thought you were claiming you could ride earlier. I don’t see very much evidence though. You’re a full forty paces back, and we’re not even galloping.”
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Post by Unguis on Sept 11, 2014 21:37:45 GMT -5
Chapter 2: Nothing but Silence (Fentuary, Seventh Age 100)
They were on the road before sunrise and ate but sparingly of their provisions. Aldrea, Lewis, and Trinnia rode in the second Light Cavalry division, directly behind Colonel Harvell as the army moved toward the Seers’ Village. All three, used to heavy riding, found the pace rather light and thus rode together towards the front of the left column.
“What do you know of the Seers’ Village, Trinnia?” asked Aldrea.
“No more than what rumour throughout the court is,” she replied. “Apparently it is filled with pacifist nature-worshippers who will be shocked and appalled by the appearance of a sword-blade in their lands. However, they seem to be quite friendly and are very much pleased with our Pendragon’s decision to undertake peaceful relations with them, so they may overlook our hostile ways.”
“My father has told me that many of those rumours have little basis in fact,” interjected Lewis. “He has dealt with their leader extensively, even visited the village himself once for a short time. He said that although they are a peaceful people, they do see why we have need of arms in these latter days, and do not seem to be very religious at all. They are indeed very pleased that the Pendragon has expressed peaceful intentions before violent ones and perhaps might even join the kingdom some day. That is one of the reasons we are here.”
“But we have no experience in diplomacy,” said Aldrea. “Not much of what we have learned would impress them from what I’ve heard.”
“Not us, Aldrea,” replied Lewis. “The whole unit that is to stay there. We’re just there to make sure no one causes trouble for the town. Ambassador Malyr is the one in charge of relations.”
“I still don’t really see what we can do there,” said Trinnia, “or why now, of all times, your father allowed us to actually accompany an army marching onto foreign soil.”
Aldrea looked uncomfortable for a moment, but Lewis unwittingly rescued her. “This is the first peaceful task force to ride from Wolfchester. Aldrea’s father has clearly seen her wishes and, even though he does not like them, appreciated the wisdom of giving her the opportunity of seeing her life of choice. He also though must want to keep her out of harm’s way. Speaking of your father, Aldrea, is he to join the army with the second force marching through the Seers’ Village?”
“No,” she replied. “He said in his last letter that he had obligations to which to see at home and could not make the journey to lead the army.”
They rode on and conversation turned this way and that with the path, sometimes lively, sometimes silent. High noon came and went and the three were assigned, together with two others, to scout the region south of the road. The hours went by mostly without event, but about four hours after noon, they discovered a simple dwelling, seemingly abandoned. While their companions went to search the surrounding area, Lewis, Aldrea, and Trinnia entered the dwelling and the adjoining garden.
“Lewis,” said Aldrea, “is not this in surprisingly good condition for being abandoned?”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Perhaps we were wrong. Maybe the inhabitant is still about here. In that case, we had best not disturb anything.”
A call from Trinnia brought both of them to the face of a hill behind the garden.
“A cave, Trinnia?” said Lewis. “Perhaps that will answer some of our questions. Achh! The door’s locked.”
“Quite a peculiar lock,” said Trinnia. ‘Nothing like any keyhole I’ve ever seen, but… it seems oddly familiar.”
“I know,” replied Aldrea. “None of that helps us identify the occupant though. We should look for something more substantial and accessible.”
“But, of course!” exclaimed Lewis as the other two turned away. “I know where I’ve seen that keyhole before. Look here, the neck would have to be curved? And look at how large the hole for the teeth is. It’s one half a symbol of Armadyl!”
“That gives us something at least, but still not much,” said Aldrea.
“Writing too,” pointed Trinnia, as she moved down the hillside. “On this rock. Look. But… I’ve never seen characters like that before.”
“Nor have I,” said Aldrea.
“That looks – no, but it can’t be more than a month old,” said Lewis. “That would be impossible.”
“What, Lewis?” asked Trinnia.
“It looks almost like the old Armadylean characters on some the documents in the castle vaults. I’ve never learned to read them, but I served a bit of time as a courier of old documents. That definitely looks like Armadylean characters. Do you have parchment?”
“Yes, I believe I have a little,” replied Aldrea. “And a charcoal stick too.”
“Good, good,” said Lewis. “I’ll copy this down while you two look around some more. If we don’t find anything else, we can meet back up with the others then.”
When Lewis had finished his transcription, they returned to the others and set off for camp.
“Anything to report, Saelbour?” asked Tevlir, the sergeant of the party.
“No, Sir,” he replied. “Nothing but silence and a few scribbles we couldn’t read.”
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Post by Unguis on Sept 17, 2014 20:15:01 GMT -5
Chapter 3: Words in the Dust (Ire of Phyrrus, Seventh Age 100)
The camp was hardly planned out by the time the first infantry squads marched weary into sight. Thus, Lewis, Aldrea, and Trinnia’s party was still setting up tents while supper was being served to the rest of the army. Despite being generally split up to discourage any powerful personal bonds from growing, the three had been assigned together this night.
“This is the last section,” said Lewis as he read from the hastily-written plans. “Three tents here, then we can finally eat.”
The other two nearly cheered with relief as they began the first tent.
“We shouldn’t even be here and yet we’re the ones given the extra work,” said Trinnia. “What ever happened back in the Seers’ Village? Do the seers have an irrational dislike horses or something?”
“It must’ve been a miscommunication,” said Aldrea hurriedly.
“Perhaps,” replied Lewis. “But I’m not wholly convinced of that. I think General Grayham must have had other reasons for dispatching us with the rest of the army.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Aldrea quickly.
“Well, perhaps,” said Lewis, “he decided to give you the chance to see battle, Aldrea. This does seem to be a good opportunity. It shouldn’t be as bloody and horrible as if we were fighting another army of men, but it will test your strength and commitment. Be glad you have this opportunity: it’s what you’ve wanted for years. I for one, though, do not look forward to it.”
“Nor do I,” said Trinnia. “I would have much preferred staying in the town and perhaps learning a bit of diplomacy. That might be a better craft for me than a warfare.”
“If I didn’t know you two better,” said Aldrea, “I might call you cowards. As I know you’re not, though, I’ll merely repeat my reasons: this is my only option beside a life confined to housework and dinner parties. Any progress on that inscription we found, Lewis?”
“No,” he replied. “I sent a copy back to Wolfchester for translation when I thought we were remaining in the Seers’ Village, but I doubt I’ll hear anything now. Not until after the battle at any rate. A pity too. I was intrigued by that writing. Less than a month old…”
“I hate to break into your thought, Lewis,” said Trinnia, “but we have another tent to set up, but not another tent.”
“Oh, right,” he replied. “I left it back by the first. I’ll go get it.”
When he reached where he had dropped the tent before, he froze. More runes were inscribed into the dirt next to the tent and beside them was the drawing of a half-symbol of Armadyl.
“Aldrea! Trinnia!” he called. “Come here.”
“What is it, Lewis?” asked Aldrea. “Have you lost a tent again?”
“First of all, I didn’t actually lose that; and second, no,” he replied. “Look.”
“Those look like—,” started Trinnia.
“The symbols we saw back at the cave. Yes, and they weren’t here before” Lewis said. “They are old Armadylean, but they’re different. As if that wasn’t enough, the writer has confirmed his identity by drawing a picture of the keyhole we saw.”
“He can’t be far,” said Aldrea. “If we started searching now—”
“No,” replied Lewis. “He clearly doesn’t want to be found, and thus I doubt we will find him even if we search. I doubt this a coincidence, though. New writing in old Armadylean two places where we happen to be: it’s either the work of a madman or someone with a deep purpose. I don’t discount either at this point.”
“You can’t read it?” asked Trinnia hopefully.
“No,” he answered. “I am, however, fairly sure that this is a single word. I’ll keep a transcription of this along with the other to send back to Wolfchester at the next opportunity. Now, I hate to spoil this mystery, but we still have a tent to set up and I think we’re all still hungry.”
The others nodded and took the tent as he transcribed the runes. After they had finished with the tent and later with eating, they gathered around the fire in their division’s section, as none of them had watch that night.
“The battle is coming soon,” said Lewis. “From the scouting reports, I know we’re not far from the border. I hope, though, we can settle with the region’s inhabitants peacefully so we don’t need to fight them as well as the monster that’s terrorizing them.”
“Who are they?” asked Trinnia.
“I haven’t had much contact with my father recently,” he replied, “but from what I last heard, I would guess they are the descendants of the fabled Guardians of Armadyl.”
“They are,” said Aldrea. “My father sent me more recent news. They seem to, however, have become more aggressive and savage than those noble people of the fifth age were. They seem to be more Armadyl’s soldiers in the God Wars without the God Wars. Neither our a—emissaries nor the seers think to highly of them after their first few meetings.”
“How often Armadyleans forget in these latter days,” sighed Lewis, “the teaching of their supposed lord. We all have heard the storied peacefulness and rationality of Armadyl, but they seem to have corrupted his memory and absorbed the slander of his foes.”
“Lewis,” said Aldrea, “you have to remember they don’t have Father Drake’s commentaries on the ancient texts. Those texts could very easily be interpreted differently.”
“Yes, they could,” said Lewis. “Just like we could interpret our superiors’ curfew as a mere piece of advice.”
“Lewis—” began Aldrea, but Trinnia cut her off.
“Speaking of curfew, we only have about five minutes. It would probably be best if we retired now.”
“Indeed, you’re right” said Lewis. “Get a good night’s sleep, both of you. You will need all the rest you can get soon enough.” |
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Post by Unguis on Sept 26, 2014 12:53:29 GMT -5
Chapter 4: Secrets
(Rintra, Seventh Age 101)
The sight of Wolfchester was welcome after the long road from the ruins of McGrubor’s Wood. Despite the journey, Lewis, Aldrea, and Trinnia were not in the least tired. Although this trip had been made with a much smaller group, the wounded among them slowed them to little more than their earlier pace. Aldrea herself had been wounded in the battle and thus, despite her objections, her father had insisted she return to the capital. Halfway through the trip, though, she had been well enough recovered that she could ride with her companions, who, at the orders of General Grayham, had been assigned as guards to the caravan. Thus it was that, as they entered the city, the Festival of the Silver Dawn had already come and gone.
Immediately upon reaching their destination, all three reported together to the palace to meet with General Grayham. After making a full report of the battle, Lewis and Trinnia were dismissed so that the general could speak with his daughter alone.
“What now, Lewis?” asked Trinnia as the two exited the chamber. “Any plans now that you’re finally back?”
“Many,” he replied. “But first I have to speak with my father if he is available. After that, I’ll head to the vaults.”
“Still engrossed in those runes?” she said.
“How can I not be? Now that’s three times they’ve appeared, and in a place where we alone would see them. Or have you forgotten the wagon just a week ago?”
“Trust me: I haven’t. I just don’t see why you need to use your time back in Wolfchester for it. Can’t you let the recorder get to it?”
“It’s quite clearly important Trinnia,” he responded. “Someone’s going to a lot of trouble to show us these runes. Either that person’s a madman and we need to be watchful, or else he has something important to tell, in which case we need to be even more watchful. Besides, I doubt Aldrea would want me to waste her time down there.”
“I suppose you’re right. I don’t really have anything else to do with both of you busy. Fancy having another pair of eyes down there?”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” he answered. “Ah, it seems my father is in a diplomatic conference with the Pendragon. We’ll head down now.”
As they began to descend the hundreds of stairs from the tower to the vaults, Trinnia asked Lewis, “I know we’ve discussed this many times before, but that was always with Aldrea present. Was the battle what you expected?”
Several floors went by before Lewis responded. “Yes and no,” he said. “I knew it was going to be horrible: hundreds of men in full armour shouting and fighting in earnest, but I couldn’t have known the full horror until I was there. Seeing men die in battle and be struck down is terrible. I can only imagine a battle between men and men. But there was something more. A pride, an honour in fighting, especially in winning. I suppose that was more than I was expecting.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “Slaying the beast was oddly satisfying: knowing that such an abomination could no longer do any harm. The horrors of the cave-in though… I can only imagine what would have happened had the gorajo not appeared.”
“Or had the colonel not had the foresight to speak as he did to the Guardians…”
“I know,” she said. “Any further news of the Guardians?”
“None that I know of, but that was one of the things I was going to ask my father about. I was hoping they might have one day been like the seers and acknowledge the rule of the true servants of Armadyl, or at least become our allies, but on that front things have taken quite a turn for the worse. Now, the recording chambers should be through here. Ah, Lord High Chronicler,” he said bowing.
“Young Lord Saelbour,” replied High Chonicler Lord Geoffery Tarviin as he looked up from his work. “Do you need something here in the vaults?”
“Yes, sir,” he said advancing. “I was wondering if you’d had a chance to translate those runes I sent you.”
“No, I have not,” Lord Tarviin replied. “I am rather intrigued though as to where you got them. They don’t match any text I’ve ever seen and the only place such writing exists is in the vaults of old scholars. I don’t know of any of them living among the Guardians, although it is conceivable.”
“No, sir,” said Lewis, “they’re not from the Guardians. I found them written near the door of a cave next to an abandoned hut.”
“Fascinating truly,” replied the chronicler, “but I hardly see that as as large a priority as you made it out to be in your letter.”
“Maybe not,” the young man answered. “Perhaps it’s merely a curiosity. The runes have followed us though.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Lord Tarviin sharply.
“He means,” said Trinnia, entering and bowing, “that we have received several more sets of runes, obviously intended for us, since seeing these.”
“Lady Valedaughter,” he responded, nodding in acknowledgement. “Then perhaps this is more than an old lunatic hermit’s ravings. Pass me that book over on the table there.”
With this book before him, he pulled out the parchment Lewis had sent him. “Perhaps I did lie somewhat,” he said. “I have looked at these runes a bit, but some of them make no sense. The beginning’s easy enough, for the first three words at any rate. Look here: this first symbol means ‘again’ or ‘new.’ Following it would be the preposition of source, which we translate ‘from.’ After that, the definite article. But here it makes no sense: an adjective follows where a noun should be: ‘black.’”
“So, darkness, shadow, blackness?” asked Lewis. “Is that how you would translate it?”
“No,” replied Lord Tarviin. “Adjectives and nouns are written very distinctly in old Armadylean. This is most certainly the adjective ‘black.’ Not darkness, not shadow, not even the name of the colour. It is an adjective modifying nothing.”
“What comes after that?” said Trinnia.
“Well, next comes the verb ‘to rise’ or ‘to stand’ in the definite future tense. In other words, there’s no choice or chance involved; ‘shall rise,’ I’ll translate it here. Following are the preposition of destination, ‘to,’ and the definite article again. After that comes a rather puzzling phrase to the unlearned. These next two words mean ‘land’ or ‘country’ and ‘light.’ The first also is possessive. However, in old Armadylean, the rune for light can also refer to ‘sight’ or ‘view’ or even ‘knowledge.’ Also, in extreme cases, the earlier word can refer to the entire world, although it is generally used for such only in poetry. Then comes an intentional line break.”
“How can you tell?” asked Lewis.
“The next line continues the thought while being written as though it begins a new paragraph. Clearly this is a strip of verse.”
“So, the first line is ‘Again from the black...’ something ‘shall rise to the world’s sight,’” said Lewis. “I definitely need the next line to understand it.
“Yes, we do,” answered Lord Tarviin. “The first rune here is the indefinite article. The second, however, is puzzling. It is the word for ‘claw’ or ‘talon,’ but it is written as though it were a name. The next also is a curious word I’ve only ever seen once. It’s a pronoun with no gender or anything else descriptive about it. The only thing it is, is singular. The closest word we have in the common tongue is ‘one.’ The next word is the participle form of the word ‘to wear’ or ‘to carry’ or ‘to wield.’ The next word further suggests this is poetry: it is a noun, the object of the participle: ‘fire.’ Wielding fire is a common metaphor in poetic language but really severely impractical. Next is the possessive form of the word ‘night,’ followed by an adjective I can only crudely render as ‘century-old.’ So, the last line reads: ‘A claw, one wielding fire of century-old night.’ I can’t make much sense of it.”
“What was the other word you said ‘claw’ could translate as?” asked Lewis.
“Talon,” he replied, “though I don’t see how much better that is.”
“I’ve definitely heard that term used outside of its original meaning,” said Lewis quietly to Trinnia. “But I think Aldrea will be wondering where we are by now. We should get back to the upper palace.”
“Wait a moment,” said the High Chronicler. “You said you had other runes also. Did you transcribe them?"
“Oh, yes,” replied Lewis, “hold on. I have them here in my pouch.”
After a few moments of searching he produced two pieces of parchment and handed them to Lord Tarviin. The High Chronicler glanced at the first and looked at Lewis with disapproval.
“These are rushed,” he said. “I can hardly read them.” As he glanced at the second, his face become more interested. “This I can read,” he said. “It’s clearly just one word.”
“Yes, I got that from my time in the vaults,” responded Lewis. “What is it?”
“Usually I would not be able to tell you: I do not have all the runes memorized, but this one is quite common in the ancient texts of Armadyl: it means ‘secrets.’
“Thank you,” said Lewis.
“One moment more though,” replied Lord Tarviin. “The word is also written in a personal form and by the looks of these lines, as a warning. I don’t know what it means, but I do know that whoever wrote this was trying to warn you about something.”
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Post by Unguis on Oct 17, 2014 22:56:56 GMT -5
Chapter 5: Black (Moevyng, Seventh Age 101)
“Lord Saelbour, Ladies Grayham and Valedaughter,” said Colonel Amuel, as they stood before him in his tent. “You need not look so concerned that your secret business might be upset. I do not often let my men pursue external business on the march, but Lord Tarviin’s note has convinced your mission is actually important. You have the day to do whatever you must. Be in camp by sunset though, and expect to stand first watch.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Trinnia. “Your orders are understood.”
“One more thing, Lord Saelbour,” said the commander as they turned to leave. “You’re not here as soldiers this time. Try not to die like some before you can fulfill your mission. Ambassadors, even junior ones, are no good dead.”
“Yes, sir,” Lewis answered.
The mounted column was just beginning its march as the three rode off south, towards the place they had first encountered the runes.
“Have you been able make anything else out of the runes since we left the capital?” asked Aldrea. “I know you have that big poem about the Talon, and the single word message, but anything else?”
“After I found the references to the Talon in the historical documents in the vault,” responded Lewis, “I only got the translation of the last set of runes, but that makes little more sense than the first.”
“You did get that?” said Trinnia. Why didn’t you let me know?”
“I showed you the night I got the letter— Oh,” he replied. “You were on watch that night. I haven’t really had a chance since then. I guess we have time now. Let me find it…”
“‘Again shall from Talon’s flame to the world green soon come the great leaping light of justice seen,’ I think,” recited Trinnia before he could conclude his search. “I’ve been thinking on that one a lot. If Talon actually refers to the mighty Armadylean champion from past ages, these lines say he has an important role to play. Once he’s resurrected that is, however that will happen.”
“Indeed,” said Lewis as he confirmed her translation on his written copy. “There a few notes you missed though. “Lord Tarviin wrote that the ‘green world’ in poetry often refers to Gielinor, or this world. He is also confused about the last word, ‘seen,’ for reasons I can’t make out. He seems to think that these two passages are linked somehow, especially since both reference the Talon wielding flame as a symbol of his might.”
“If wielding flame is his strength,” said Trinnia, “then the Talon seems to do something remarkable through force of arms here. Perhaps even it means he brings the whole world under Armadyl’s justice. Perhaps the Talon just figuratively refers this kingdom and Armadylean goals. Maybe it’s a prophecy of our victory.”
“I doubt it,” replied Lewis. “From what I found, Talon is always specifically referring to one warrior, designated as the champion of Armadyl, though the Talon does change through time. I doubt the first ‘prophecy’ actually refers to someone rising from the dead. It probably means, if anything, that a new Talon will be appointed, though that seems little more possible with Armadyl dead. For all we know, though, these could the ravings of a mad old hermit.”
“You two are taking these writings far too ominously,” said Aldrea. “From what I’ve heard, there being a Talon has always been a good thing for the servants of Armadyl and, indeed, for the whole of Gielinor. These writings say nothing but good fortune to me, though I’ve never been as into riddles as you two. Anyway, are you sure we’re going the right way? It has been several months since we were here.”
“I know,” answered Lewis. “That encounter, though, is still etched in my mind. Besides, you’re probably missing the landmarks because we were last here in the middle of summer. It’s winter now, but I think I can have us there in plenty of time to get to camp by dusk.”
However, high noon came and went and they were still searching for the house.\.
“Ah, yes” said Lewis looking ahead. “The tall rocks we passed through last time. They’re not far ahead. We should actually be there soon.”
“At last,” said Aldrea. “This is certainly a bit farther than you remembered.”
“Never mind,” responded Trinnia. “We’re here now and we have less than an hour to spare. I assume you’ll want to continue leading, Lewis.”
“Yes, this could be dangerous,” he answered. “You two stay back here. I’ll check the door of the cabin. Be ready to come when I give the word, though.”
“Always you getting these assignment,” Aldrea grumbled. “For once, let me scout ahead.”
“Aldrea, has your wound not taught that adventure is not without its risks and that you should be wary of taking them on?” asked Lewis. “Besides, this may require diplomacy, rather than mere sword-skill, and I’ve learned a bit more of that from my father than you have.”
Aldrea relented, and he pushed forward to the hut upon seeing the coast was clear. When he saw nothing through the front window and his knock drew no response, Lewis tried the lock and found the door readily opened. Since no one was inside, he called out to the others and all three entered the hut for the second time.
“Here,” said Trinnia, almost immediately after they began their search. “Here’s a note in the same runes we saw before.”
“Can you translate it, Lewis?” asked Aldrea.
“I haven’t seen enough of these runes, but I do recognize a few symbols. Give me time and I can use the translation guide the High Chronicler sent with me, but that’ll take longer than we have now. I’ll take this with me, though, for when I do have time.”
As he picked up the parchment, a small metal object fell to the floor. Aldrea stooped and picked it up.
“Strange shape,” she said, holding it up. “It looks almost as if it were a half-symbol of Armadyl, but the design is odd.”
“A half-symbol of Armadyl,” Trinnia whispered, then, turning to the other, said, “a half-symbol of Armadyl, but in a key shape. Like the lock we found on the cave.”
“Of course,” replied Aldrea. “It seems our mysterious someone wants us to open that this time. I’ve no objection to that.”
Then, pushing past Lewis, she rushed outside, hardly bothering to check for danger outside. The other two followed her to the hillside, where she inserted the key and turned it. The afternoon sun looked in on the cave as the door slowly swung open, revealing a bare room. In the midst of the room, however, sat one object that draw all their gazes: a rather large dark box, which seemed almost to absorb all light around it.
“Black,” said Lewis to himself. “Trinnia, how would describe that object?”
“Black,” she replied. “I have no idea what it is, but it is the deepest black I have ever seen. Oh, black! The poem! This certainly fits its description if anything does.”
“Yes,” answered Lewis, “now I believe I understand that, though how this will help raise the Talon I have no idea.”
“I know this is important,” said Aldrea, “but we should be getting a move on if we want to get to camp by nightfall.”
“She’s right,” said Trinnia, “the sun is quite low in the sky for us to still be here. We should take this with us too, as it pertains to the runes.”
“We can’t just be stealing things, though,” objected Lewis. “We have no idea who the owner is, or even what this is.”
“You didn’t seem to object to our trespassing in his home,” said Aldrea, “or even taking his notes. Besides this is important; too important to leave it here.”
“But, this is different,” responded Lewis. “Clearly this is some sort of important artifact we’d just be stealing. It’s unjust, even if it’s important.”
“He also left us the key, as if he wanted us to take it,” added Trinnia. “Lewis, we need to take this with us. It’s clear now that these are not a lunatic’s ramblings and that they could shape the entire future of Gielinor. Now take my supplies and I’ll stick it in my pack. Ow!”
“What happened, Trinnia?” asked Aldrea. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I believe so,” she replied. “This… ‘box…’ just – I don’t know how to explain it. It’s as if it sucked all the energy out of my hand.”
“If we are intent on taking it,” said Lewis, “we might as well do it quickly. I have gloves on; I’ll get it in your pack. You load up mine.”
Although the sensation he got on touching the object through his gloves was slightly unpleasant, Lewis did manage to fit into the pack without incident. Thus readied, the three set off for camp and arrived just as the sun sank below the horizon. Immediately, they reported to Colonel Amuel.
“Anything of interest to report?” asked the colonel. “Did you complete your assignment?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Lewis. “We will require no more special missions.”
“That’s good,” the commander replied. “I wasn’t going to send you on any more. What is that in the pack you’ve brought back? It looks quite bulkier than it did before.”
“It’s a magical box, sir,” said Trinnia. “We’re not really sure exactly what it is, but it is important.”
“I don’t like unidentified magical artifacts travelling with my army, Lady Valedaughter,” responded the Colonel. “They usually spell trouble and at best take up space in a marching soldier’s pack and waste his energy. If you don’t know what it is, then it might be hostile and I hold threats in as great a light as I do even the High Chronicler’s word. If you have nothing more to say…”
Lewis and Trinnia exchanged worried glances, but Aldrea approached Colonel Amuel.
“Sir, you know I am the daughter of the until-recently General of Offence Thomas Grayham,” she said.
“Yes, Lady Grayham,” he answered, “I do.”
“You’ll find this familiar too,” she said, pulling out a scrap of parchment and showing it to him.
The Colonel gave her a momentary glance of surprise, and perhaps a tiny bit of fear. However, he quickly recovered himself and addressed the two.
“In this case, however, I believe, you probably know enough about what you’re doing. I’ll consider the matter more thoroughly tonight and send a messenger to you in the morning if I find the threat too grave. You have first watch; you’d best be off and stow that thing in your tent.”
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Post by Unguis on Jan 22, 2015 16:53:15 GMT -5
Chapter 6: Shall Rise
(Fentuary 7A101, Part 1)
The wooded path to camp passed by slowly for the eight Logrean riders returning eastward from the town of Hemenster in the early morning.
“Another day wasted on fruitless negotiations,” sighed Aldrea in frustration, as the three yet again pulled ahead of their companions. “Despite our superiority, the Khazardians still aren’t giving in.”
“I’m surprised General Launcet allowed us to stay out of camp last night with the way negotiations are heading,” said Lewis. “I know we gain some advantage in showing trust and accepting the Hemenstrians’ hospitality, but the risks seem much greater.”
“I doubt Embassador Rateor would have taken no for an answer,” snorted Trinnia. “Sometimes I think he’s in command rather than the general. Besides, the Khazardians have shown enough honour to allow our peaceful emissaries free passage back to camp. We’re safe now, though. The Hemenstrian thugs’ camp isn’t too far ahead now.”
“I still don’t like that we’re working with them,” said Lewis. “They don’t seem very just people.”
“Sometimes a just cause must use unjust tools, Lewis,” replied Aldrea. “If they can help bring Armadyl’s justice to Hemenster, it really doesn’t matter who they are.”
“We must heed the means also, Aldrea,” he responded. “The texts say, as Father Drake pointed out—”
“Always Father Drake,” she said. “Have you never considered alternative interpretations, such as—”
Trinnia cut her off, pointing to several figures on the ground not far in front of them. “Lewis, Aldrea, look.”
“That’s the Guardian’s emissary,” said Aldrea. “But he only left a little before we did. How could—?”
“We’re too close to the Thugs’ camp for the Khazardians to have…,” he trailed off catching sight of some irregular grey and brown clothing scraps lying close to the arrow-ridden bodies of twelve men and eight horses. He cursed, then shouted “get down now” as he leapt to his left from his saddle.
Trinnia, Aldrea, and the foremost guard followed him almost instantly catching his meaning, their other companions, including the embassador stopped their horses to look on in confusion. A volley of arrows caught those still mounted, immediately killing three and crushing the fourth beneath his dead horse.
Lewis hit the ground hard, but the undergrowth protected him and his companions from their foes’ eyes as they recovered from their falls. Already as Lewis began crawling farther into the woods, motioning the others to follow him, four figures clad in earthy green and brown emerged onto the opposite side of the path with swords and axes drawn. Trinnia had not gone five meters heeding Lewis’ gesture before she whispered, “Freneskae! My pack is still on my horse.”
“You can get another pack,” replied Lewis in the same quiet voice without stopping or turning.
“Lewis,” responded Aldrea, “the box is in that pack. We can’t let that fall into someone else’s hands, particularly an enemy’s.”
Lewis, now some distance into the woods, stopped at this and glanced back at the men now taking their horses under control.
“That’s true,” he answered. “But I still don’t think it’s worth throwing away our lives over.”
“Then let’s actually succeed in this,” said Aldrea turning back and crawling in the direction they had come. Trinnia and the other guard glanced at Lewis, then followed suit.
“She’s going to take us all to Abinnah one day,” muttered Lewis, as he turned to accompany the three. He motioned them to stop just as they reached the fringe of the heavy undergrowth. By this time, two of their attackers had begun removing packs from the steeds as the other two stood watch.
“There are more in the bushes,” whispered Lewis. “We need to be bold but not too foolhardy. Aldrea, you and I should create a distraction for Trinnia while she grabs her pack. Corporal Maston, stay here to cover and fish me and Aldrea out of there once Trinnia has what she needs. I’ll explain that later. The important thing now is that we all stay alive. Aldrea, don’t— Mah be cursed!” he broke off as the two lookouts began moving in their direction. Immediately he stood and drew his sword, rushing at his two surprised foes. Aldrea was moments behind Lewis as his opponent barely raised his sword quickly enough to protect himself from Lewis’ blade. Aldrea’s foe had little more warning, but managed to dodge her blow as he stumbled sideways. Trinnia rushed from cover as the two men nearest the horses drew their weapons and moved towards the pair of Logreans.
Lewis swept three more attacks toward his foe in rapid succession, successfully slicing open his opponent’s abdomen with the third. Two arrows meanwhile whistled in the air, both thudding into flesh. Aldrea cried out as the first pierced her left arm as she tried to parry her opponent’s axe. She stumbled forward, dropping her sword out of position, as the handle of her foe’s weapon struck her head, felling her. The second projectile struck Trinnia in the side as she swung her sword at the nearest brown-clad man. Her blow fell short and instead stuck in the ground next to the black box which had fallen from her pack as the looters had grabbed at their weapons.
Lewis rapidly struck down the man who had felled Aldrea, who was surprisingly not trying to defend himself. As the man fell, Lewis saw why. After her blow had missed, Trinnia had let go of her blade and fallen, blood dripping from her wound, onto the box. As she quickly rolled off of it, the black box began to glow with light and open. By the time Lewis beheld it, the container had fully opened to reveal a runite sword, decorated with a half symbol of Armadyl on its crossguard, glistening in the box’s already fading light. Lewis too, almost against his will, stopped to watch as Trinnia picked up the sword and rose to her feet.
As the box faded back to black, though not quite as deep a black as before, the four fighters began again to move. Dismayed, the two ambushers backed up towards the woods, but Lewis and Trinnia rapidly reached them with their swords swinging. Both were dead within seconds. Curses and rustling sounded from the woods on the right of the path as the two Logreans lowered their weapons.
Lewis stared at Trinnia as she turned towards Aldrea. “That’s Unguil, the Talon’s blade,” said Lewis. “I recognise it from the sketches in some of the old records. How can that be here? It was lost at the end of last age.”
“I don’t know, Lewis,” she replied, “but I think we have more pressing concerns. Help me get Aldrea to safety.”
As Lewis recovered his wits and went to help her, a series of cannon shots sounded in the distance.
“Then it has come to battle,” said Trinnia as they carried Aldrea into the underbrush. “I regret it had to. I suppose it was inevitable once they ambushed us.”
“Those weren’t Khazardians, Trinnia,” responded Lewis as they set Aldrea down. “Those men were most definitely Hemenstrians, likely those thugs we thought were our allies.”
“Traitors. If that’s the case, then it’s far too risky to ride for camp,” said Trinnia.
“True,” replied Lewis. “But we might be able to get a messenger through. Corporal Maston.”
The soldier crawled over to them from his vantage point when he heard his name called.
“Lord Saelbour?” he said.
“I’m sorry, corporal,” answered the young nobleman, “but I’m going to have to send you on a dangerous assignment. I need you to mount one of the horses still on the road and find a way around the thugs’ camp to warn General Launcet.”
“Warn him about what, sir?” asked Maston.
“The Hemenstrian thugs, corporal,” responded Lewis.
“The thugs? But they’re—”
“Our allies, yes I realize that. But, in case you didn’t notice they attacked us and killed the ambassador. I hardly think they’re still going to be our allies after this.”
“ Those were—?”
“Yes, who did you think they were? Khazardian regulars, dressed in green and brown like they were?”
“True. If they are enemies though, I don’t know I’ll make it let alone on time.”
“Nor do I, corporal; that’s why I’m sorry to be sending you. I pray to Armadyl you do make it on time. Now we don’t have time to waste.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the soldier, before hastening to execute his orders.
“Now that we’re in relative safety,” said Lewis, turning to Trinnia, “that sword matches the drawings of the Talon’s sword with its distinctive half symbol of Armadyl in the old texts in the Wolfchester vaults.”
“It does feel strangely invigorating to hold,” replied Trinnia. “I thought it was just the heat of the moment but the feeling hasn’t gone. I don’t what your Talon’s sword was like, but this is definitely different to any sword I’ve ever used. Maybe it’s the runite.”
“Those rumours about runite are quite exaggerated. Although I’ve never actually felt such a sword, my father once had the privilege of holding the king’s. It was just a normal sword, but stronger and sharper. But the Talon’s sword is reportedly uniquely enchanted by Armadyl’s own power, although any such thing linked so directly to the gods should have been annihilated in the Cataclysm. How did you open the box anyway?”
“I don’t know. It just started opening when I fell on it. I must have hit it the right way. I’m certainly glad I did though, else we’d both be dead.”
“Activating the box is not what’s important though. I just remembered: reports stated that only particular people could utilize the Talon’s sword to its true potential – only they could access its enchantment. I can’t remember why though. Maybe the invigorating feeling is the enchantment and you are truly worthy to possess it.”
“I doubt I’m more worthy than many others, including you. You try wielding it,” said Trinnia, offering the sword to Lewis. He took it and stood to enter his combat stance. After a few moments of sword drills, Lewis shook his head.
“It’s a marvelous blade, the best I’ve ever held, but it’s nothing unique to me. It’s just a well-crafted sword. The sword senses something about you that I don’t have. I believe it has chosen you to be the next Talon. I don’t know how, but it must have.”
Trinnia frowned as she took back the blade. “I’m no legendary warrior. I’m hardly worthy of the blade, let alone the title.”
“The box opened for you and the sword’s enchantment works for you. Clearly you are worthy in some way. Additionally, from what I read, the Talon isn’t just a warrior. That would hardly be unique. He’s also an emissary and example of Armadyl’s justice, and, from the years we’ve spent together, I believe you fit that role well.”
Trinnia heard this in silence, but after a few moments looked up sharply. “Lewis,” she said, “this means those runes are coming true. Think. This, the Talon’s sword came from black box. Well, if the sword’s here to pick a new Talon, then from that black, the Talon shall rise again wielding a blade from the God Wars, which ended about a century ago.”
“You’re right,” he whispered. “This is better and more terrifying than I had hoped or imagined. A new Talon, something not seen since the Cataclysm, wielding a blade that can’t have survived the end of the Sixth Age. If the sword’s still around, what else has survived? And how can someone write true prophecy without the gods?”
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