Fan:Fire and Darkness
| Fire and Darkness | |
|---|---|
| Theme: |
Castle |
| Author: | |
| Completion Status: |
Complete |
Prologue
There was once a land called Aerindor. It has long since passed away, but its legends and stories are still remebered. Let it begin.... First, let's have a little background...
In the land of Aerindor there were seven kingdoms. The kingdoms were all large and powerful. They constantly fought each other, to gain power and riches. Never had one kingdom united with another, they hated each other too much. Although there were times when a kingdom would not fight another, there was almost always at least one kingdom at war with another. The kings of the kingdoms were, with a few exceptions, greedy, power hungry men. But, occasionally, there was times of peace through the whole land, when wiser heads came to the throne. Good, wise kings were few and far between...
The Ye Olde Boot, an inn, was not a place you wanted to be at the best of times. The food was bad, the beds were infested with creatures, and pretty much every piece of furniture was either falling apart or was so covered in debris and grime that most patrons opted to stand. It had one way of attracting customers though: the prices were dirt cheap.
The inkeeper, an unpleasant man by the name of Sord, never expected anyone even semi wealthy or pleasant to walk in the door. However, on a wintery night, a man wearing something other then rags or patched up clothes walked in. He was wearing leather armor, a hood that covered his eyes, and wore a sword at his belt. Sord, surprised, was even more surprised when the man didn't walk right back out again. Instead, he walked up to the counter. "Uh, uh, ah," he stuttered. "Can I.... can I do something for you sir? he asked.
"Yes," the man replied. "I'm new to these parts and I'd like a little information."
"Ah, well, I can't just give information about the Skeering kingdom, sir" Sord told the stranger. (now the Ye Olde Boot was located in the village of Dontensferry, which was located in the Skeering Kingdom)
"Well, now, I might just be able to change your mind," said the stranger. Sord looked down at the table, and gave a start of surprise. On the table lay ten shiny gold coins! He gasped. "Yes, that's for you," said the stranger smoothly. If you give the information I need."
"Okay," said stuttered Sord, who by now was more then a little flustered. "What do you want to know?"
Tell me about the Skeering kingdom. Tell me everything!" he added at the end. Sord drew a deep breath, and began to tell the stranger everything he had asked.
After an hour or so,"Thank you, friend," he said without warning, and walked out the door. The man walked onto the street in the middle of night and went to the stables. He mounted his horse and rode out of the town.
For three days and nights the stranger rode east. Out of the Skeering kingdom, through the other kingdoms. . On the dawn of the fourth day, he reached his destination.
At the edge of the easternmost kingdom was a small camp, hidden in the low foothills that were there. A man rode into this camp now, exhausted. he dropped off his horse, took two steps, and fell to the ground, unconscious. Twelve solid hours later, the man awoke. He immediately went to the commander and told him all he knew about the Skeering kingdom. The commander smiled. he walked quickly out of the camp, to a the top of a hill. He took a small horn out of his pocket and blew a three long, low notes. A minute later, a massive orange dragon landed! "What news?" came a growling voice from the back of the dragon. "This land, will be claimed for Sworonus!" told the man. "Excellent." the figure chuckled.
Chapter 1
"C'mon, you cowards!" yelled the commander. After further berating his men, he turned and looked for general Tharkun. There was no sign of him. "C'mon, troops, follow me!" he yelled, and charged out from beneath the gatehouse, his 400 men following with a roar.
It was in the Skeering kingdom, exactly one year after the mysterious visitor had come to it, seeking information. It was one of the seemingly endless battles between the Skeering kingdom and its chief rival, the Flandas kingdom.
And now general Turdas charged out to meet the enemy. Turdas bellowed, "Crush them!" and soldiers charged foward. As they fought, Turdas looked around, hoping that he would see general Tharkun and his 1,000 men. Unfortunately, as he looked, a crosbowman on the other side of the battle saw him, took careful aim, and fired. Turdas had just turned to charge into battle when the quarrel hit him squarely in the chest. He gasped, seeing the bolt. Then he fell backwards onto the wet grass and lay still.
Aranus trudged onward. It had just been a few days since the dragon had attacked and destroyed the town where he had lived, yet it seemed like ages. He wanted to fall asleep, to lay down and let sleep take him. But he resisted the urge. He hadn't tried to sleep since the first day after the dragon attack, when he had such horrible nightmares that he couldn't bring himself to sleep again. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he reached another settlement, and promptly fell asleep in the shoddiest inn around.
As Aranus watched the battle, He reflected all that had happened in the five years after the dragon attacked and destroyed his hometown. He had joined the Skeering army, and for years had trained and pushed his body to the phyusical limit. He had fought in countless raids and several full scale battles. Now, at last, he had been given a command of his own.
As Aranus watched the battle, a man ran up to him. "Sir! Sir!" he shouted.
"What is it?" asked Aranus.
"The enem has reinforcements coming! They'll be here in minutes!" the man stammered.
"How many? What kind of troops?" Aranus questioned him.
"Heavy cavalry! They'll come over those two hills!" he said, pointing. Inwardly, Aranus groaned. Heavy cavalry would utterly smash his force of light infantry. As he stood there, pondering what to do, a question occured to him.
"How do you know this?" he asked the man. The man looked at him oddly, then a evil smile came over his face.
"Because I planned it," he laughed. With that, he pulled a dagger out of his belt and leaped at Aranus. It was his reflexes that saved him. Without even thinking he leaped backwards and rolled, then got to his feet, sword drawn. The man, having lost the element of surprise, didn't seem to eager to attack. The two men eyed each other wearily, until suddenly the fell face forward on the ground. An arrow protruding from in between the plates in his armor. Aranus looked up and saw Baruk, one of his trusted lieutenants, standing a ways away, bow in hand.
"Sorry, saw what was happening and came as fast as I could. Are you all right?" he asked. Aranus was about to reply when the sound of galloping horses filled the air. They turned and saw the heavy cavalry that the un-named man had promised galloping down the the hill towards them, and behind them, the two battling armies. Turning, Aranus sprinted madly to the left, where his horse was standing. Without stopping to think, he swung himself up on his horse and galloped as fast as he could in the away from the battle.
Aranus spurred his horse on wildly, making it go as fast as the animal could. He galloped into the forest, not caring about the branches whipping in his face. Finally, the horse slowed. It could go no further. He slid off his horse, and a moment later it collapsed. He was just starting to realize what he had done. He knew that he could not return to the Skeering Kingdom anytime soon. . He was so tired that he was already drfiting off to sleep..........Aranus woke to the sound of hoofbeats. He got up and drew his sword in time to see a rider, wearing the armor of a knight of the Skeering Kingdom, using a sword and a shield. The rider rode up to him, dismounted, and took off his conical helmet. Seeing him, Aranus knew who the man was.
"Mallus? You survived?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh, it is you!" laughed Mallus. "Yes, I survived. After the cavalry hit us, I rode the opposite way. I remembered seeing you ride in a different direction, so I headed this way. I've been blundering through the forest, searching for you for hours. I--"
" Why didn't you call for me?" asked Aranus, slightly miffed.
"Well, what I was going to say is that I didn't want to call attention. If anyone else survived, like Eldwen for instance..." Aranus' face darkened at the mention of the name. Elwen was one of his commanders, and a total, stuck up pig as well. They hated each other, and he knew that Elwen would not hesitate to report Mallus and he for deserting.
"Yes, he's probably leaping for joy at this chance," Aranus muttered darkly. "He's been waiting for years for a chance to dispose of me."
Mallus replied, "Yes, but I was also worried about enemies as well. Who knows what they'll do when they've won the battle."
"Yes, yes, you're right," said Aranus huffily. "What are we going to do now?"
"I have a few ideas-" but Mallus never got to voice his ideas, for at that moment, an three arrows seemed to appear in his back.
"No!" yelled Aranus, drawing his sword.......
Drawing his sword, Aranus looked around wildly. Mallus fell face first on the ground. Aranus knew he was gone. He looked at the strange arrows in Mallus' back, and suddenly the truth dawned on him....
"Chaldmer," he muttered. The Chaldmer were strange creatures. No one knew were they came from, or what exactly they were. They were manlike, but no one would ever mistake them for a man. They lived in forests and mountains, and were a menace to all civilization. And they had shot Mallus from behind.
Rage filled Aranus. He was about to go after them when he saw a figure, moving rapidly away from him. Without stopping to think, he charged after the Chaldmer. The creature leaped over a fallen log and seemed to disappear. Aranus walked over to the spot where he had last seen it. Where had it gone? He was about to give up when he heard a strange sound. Before he could blink, six Chaldmer leaped down from the trees around him. A perfect ambush.
"Oh, this is just perfect," moaned Aranus. The Chaldmer drew their weapons. Three carried rusty swords and shields, two had curved axes, and one carried a bow. He noticed that their weapons bore the markings of soldiers. Aranus realized that they must have scavenged them from soldiers they found wandering in these haunts. He saw that the bowman's arrows were the same strange arrows that had <defeated> Mallus. Rage roared in his ears. The largest Chaldmer barked and order in a strange tongue, and they leaped forward to attack.
The Chaldmer leaped at him, weapons raised. The one with the bow fired at Aranus, but he knew what was coming and dove to the ground. As the monsters closed in, he got up and charged the bowman. It was trying to notch another arrow when Aranus reached it. Snarling, it dropped the bow and drew a curved dagger from its makeshift belt, but it was to late. Aranus, drove into a fury at the creature, dodged its underhanded jab and defeated it with one quick stroke. He then turned to face the others...
The other Chaldmer were charging at Aranus, making odd chittering sounds as they went. The first beast reached him, raising its sword for a deadly overhand strike. Aranus blocked the slash with his sword, and immediately countered with a horizontal stroke aimed at the abdomen. The Caldmer blocked the strike with its own sword, and Aranus was forced to leap backward because another Chaldmer had reached him. The two charged at him, swords coming almost together in a dual thrust. Aranus shrugged his shield onto his arm and slanted it sideways, deflecting the Chaldmers' thrusts. One Chaldmer, meeting no resistance to its thrust, stumbled forward. Before it could recover, Aranus knocked it unconscious with the pommel of his sword. However, this slight delay gave the other Chaldmer time to attack, and it did. The creature slashed at Aranus, and his parry was to slow. The blade slashed, cutting through his leather riding gloves. He gasped in pain and fell backwards. With a wicked smile across its face, the Chaldmer raised its sword to finish him. As it struck, Aranus rolled to the side, barely avoiding the sword. As the creature got ready to attack again, he lunged upward, thrusting as hard as he could. His own blade pierced the Chaldmer's weak armor. He rolled to avoid the counterstrike that came a moment to late. Getting up, he found himself surrounded facing the three Chaldmer that were still alive. The Chaldmer, being slightly cowardly, were waiting for one of them to attack first. Aranus decided for them. With a yell, he leaped at the nearest one and thrust with his sword. The creatures were thrown into confusion for several seconds. The first Chaldmer fell to his sword. He dispatched another in the same way, before turning to face the last one. Without hesitation, it leaped at him, axe raised. Aranus stepped under its overhead strike and rammed his shield into its chest, sending it tumbling into the grass. He brought his sword down...
.....On the Chaldmer. The creature gave one, final shriek before it was gone. "Now that's settled," growled Aranus, seething with anger. He walked over to where Mallus had fallen. "Good bye, my friend," he said, grief welling up in him, threatening to boil over. He dug a small grave, and laid Mallus' body in it. Finally, he put the man's sword on his chest. After he had finished, he walked quickly away, as if to put as much distance between him and what had befallen them. His horse had been scared away by the Chaldmer. Resigning himself to whatever was ahead, he began to walk in deeper into the forest.
Chapter 2
After several days, Aranus reached civilzation, albeit in the form of a small village. He stumbled into the inn, paid for a room, and was asleep before he even hit the bed. The next day he awoke, and pondered what he should do next. He had a coin, and he could fight well. He decided that he would become a mercenary. He walked into the main room of the inn, and sought out the innkeeper.
"Good morning," the inkeeper said politely. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like some information about these parts," stated Aranus calmly. "Of course, there would be coin involved."
"Coin, eh? Gold?" It was a statement. Not a question.
"Of course," replied Aranus smoothly.
"All right then, what would you like to know?"
"Would there be anyone in these parts that would like to hire a mercenary?"
"A mercenary, eh?" asked the inkeeper, mostly to himself. "Well, I've got something better then a job. There's a group of thugs that call themselves mercenaries. Their leader is a man named Geran. If you talk to him, you might be able to join up. They usually put themselves in the Stooping Hawk. Darn right take control of that place, if you ask me."
"Thank you, friend," Aranus replied smoothly. He counted out 15 silver crowns for the man.
"What? I said information for gold!" the inkeeper said, a bit too loud.
"All right, calm down," said Aranus. "Here." He promptly walked out the door. The inkeeper looked down. On the table were five gold crowns. He looked at them for a moment, then said opened a door behind him. Behind the door were two large men, obviously his bullyboys. Both were carrying clubs on their shoulders.
"You saw that, didn't you?" he snapped sharply. "Go get me that purse!"
"Righto, boss," mumbled Garith, who was not the brightest of men. They walked out onto the street, looking for Aranus.
"Now where'd he go?" asked Garith. "He was just here a minute ago."
"Well, obviously he went in some building or other place!" snapped the smaller of the two shrilly. "Find him!"
Garith was unhappy. The man that his boss had told them to <get> seemed to have disappeared.
"Now where'd he go?" asked Garith, thickly. "He just blamin' vanished, I bet he did." For a man of Garith's intellegince, it was not surprising that he came to this conclusion. His other partner snapped, "Of course he didn't vanish, you thick-headed imbecile! He's hiding somwhere! C'mon, let's search this alley." The two men walked to the front of the alley. It went back a long way and was hidden shadows. "Well-" Garith started to say, when he heard a vicious hiss close by his head. "What the-" he stopped when he saw where the bolt had gone. His partner screamed in pain.
"The next shot will be between the eyes," said a voice from the back of the alley. After a pause, it said, "Get out of here now." Garith looked down at his friend, writhing on the ground, with a quarrel protruding from his left calf. He made a split second decision. Yelling, he charged down the alley, raising his club. And screamed when a second bolt took him down. This time Aranus didn't aim for the leg. Garith joined his friend on the ground- but he wasn't moving. Aranus walked briskly out of the alley, stepping over the forms of the two men. He strode across the street to the inn where he knew that the thugs had come from. He threw open the door. The innkeeper looked up, expecting to see his thugs walk in. He wasn't expecting a figure with a crossbow in its hands and fire in its eyes. There could be only one reason why the man had returned. He lunged for his club that he kept under the counter. Aranus fired. The bolt took him down, but he was lucky. Aranus hadn't aimed to destroy. Now he walked over to the man lying on the floor, moaning. "You made a mistake trying to smash me back there. Why?" he snarled.
The innkeeper didn't answer. "Why?" he shouted. The innkeeper looked up at him. "For asking questions," he said weakly.
"What is so important about what you told me?"
"Tell me!" Aranus shouted.
"Alright," replied the innkeeper weakly. "You see, almost a year ago, a man came to this inn. He wanted information about Flandas. After I finished telling him all that he wanted to know, he told me something. Said that he would repay with more coin then I could imagine if I would just grief anyone who asked questions about him. Or anything else."
"I wasn't even asking about things like that!" exclaimed Aranus incredulously. He almost wanted to laugh. "I was asking about mercenary work!"
"I know," the innkeeper gasped. "But I had to be careful. Can you imagine how much coin he'll give me when... when...."
"And you really believed that he'd do it, whoever he was?" laughed Aranus. "Ha! That would be a trick. Well, let me tell you something. He's not going to come back. Whoever he is, he's never going to come back. I would bet my every last copper royal that he's forgotten all about you by now. By the way, what did he look like? Did he tell you his name?"
"No, he wouldn't tell me his name. However, there were a few things about him. On his left hand, he only had three fingers. In place of the missing two, he had a metal claw of some kind. And.... And he had a scar on the side of his left cheek. Then there were his eyes..... bright blue, but as cold as ice," said the innkeeper.
"All right then," Aranus snapped. "Goodbye." Saying this, he walked out the door, without a second glance at the prostrate innkeeper. He walked up the street, heading for the Stooping Hawk. As he went he bumped into a man that was walking the other way. He didn't notice three small details: a scar on the man's left cheek, a metal hook in place of two of the man's fingers, and eyes that were as bright and as cold as ice. Aranus didn't think twice about the man, and the man didn't think about him either.
Back at the inn, the innkeeper pulled himself up. Before he could move, the door opened and the very man that he had told Aranus about walked up to him....
"Greetings, friend," said the mysterious man. His voice was a smooth as oil. He stopped as he saw the quarrel protruding from the innkeeper. "My goodness, you're hurt!" he exclaimed with mock concern. "Whatever happened? Wait, I know... it had to do with our little arrangement I made last year with you, doesn't it?" The innkeeper said nothing. The look in his eyes told the man all he needed to know. "You weakling," he snarled. "All you had to do was smash anyone who asked questions about me! It was such an easy task!" The man was pacing now. "Who was he!" he almost screamed. "Who? Who?" The innkeeper, desperate to please, answered as quickly as he could. "His name.... was... Aranus." He began to describe how he looked. Suddenly, a smile came to the other man's face. He almost laughed. "That men? Ha! I almost ran into him when I was coming here! Please. please, I'm, sorry for yelling at you. Please, take this as a token of my gratitude." The innkeeper was surprised. This was a most pleasant turn of events. One moment the man had looked like he had been on the verge of snapping, and now he was asking for forgiveness!
"Well, I-" he started to say.
"No, no, a year is up. It's time for you to receive your reward."
"Then-"
"Yes, yes! You will get your reward in full." Seeing this, the innkeeper relaxed.
"Alright," he said, suddenly filled with a desire to get this business over with.
"Yes, yes," the other man said. "You must go into the cellar."
Feeling uneasy, the innkeeper walked into the cellar. Was that an evil gleam that he had seen in the man's eyes? Seconds later, he heard the lock click behind him. The man was planning to trap him here! Angrily, he walked over to the door. Then he saw something else. "No!" he screamed as the gasoline poured under the door of the cellar.
Upstairs, the man looked at his handiwork. Every barrel of gasoline he had opened and poured down the stairs. With an evil laugh, dropped a torch into the liquid. Then he ran....
The man heard the rushing flames as he walked out the door. He didn't hear the screams that emanated from the cellar. The inn was made almost entirely out of wood, and it never rained much in this region. The wood that inn was made of was baked dry by years of sunshine. In minutes, the entire building was aflame. Any attempts to fight the fire failed. And few saw, and even fewer made note of the man who had disappeared seconds after leaving the building.
From another part of town, the mysterious stranger watched the flames and smoke leap into the air. He gave a grim smile of satisfaction. Then he tore his eyes away and walked for the Stooping Hawk.
Chapter 3
Inside the Stooping Hawk, Aranus relaxed. He played a dice game with a couple of cheats for a while, and then stopped when he realized how depleted his purse was. As he walked away from the table, he heard a loud commotion coming from the street. He opened the door and and looked outside. "Hey, close the door! You're letting in cold air," yelled a man sitting close to the door. Aranus ignored him and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He stopped suddenly as he saw the cause of the ruckus: a large building was on fire several blocks away. A group of villagers were trying to put out the fire with a bucket brigade, btu Aranus saw as he walked closer that they were doomed to failure. Most of the building was already an inferno. He was about to go inside when he realized something. It was the very inn that he had just left! As he strode back to the tavern, he wondered whether the sudden fire could have any connection with him. Could it?
When he got back inside, Aranus decided to call it a night. He tossed the innkeeper a few coins and walked up the stairs to his room. He opened the door.... and stopped as he felt cold steel touch his neck.
A figure stood by the doorway. It held a sword that was resting lightly on Aranus' neck. Aranus kept calm and stayed silent. The man asked him, "Three questions. Who are you? Why are you here? Did you ask about me?" Aranus remained silent. The man dug the sword slightly deeper.
"My name is Aranus," Aranus said. "I'm here to visit a friend of mine."
"Oh, really?" the man asked in a mock sincere tone. "Forgive me if I don't believe you. You're a soldier. Now tell me. Why are you here?"
"I was coming here after a battle I was in went sour," Aranus said angrily. "It didn't have anything to do with you! And no, I did not ask anything about you."
"Well, then, why did our late friend the innkeeper try to smash you?" the man asked.
"I don't know!" shouted Aranus angrily.
"Very well," snarled the man, who was obviously losing patience. Before he could do what he was planning, Aranus suddenly hurled himself backwards, down the stairs. It happened so quickly that the man didn't have time to strike. When Aranus reached the bottom of the stairs, he got up as quickly as he could, and ran into the main room of the tavern.
Taken by surprise, the man recoiled as Aranus fell down the stairs. Then, with an oath, he charged down the stairs after him. Aranus ran towards the door. Suddenly, a man stood up, right in his way. He hit that man at speed and they both tumbled to the floor. Every man in the tavern looked at them.
"All right, what's going on in here?" asked the innkeeper. As he said this, the man came into the room with his sword drawn...
The man hastily sheathed his sword. Before he could do anything, the innkeeper spoke again. "I said, what is going on?" he asked. He glared at the man. "And why did you come in with your sword drawn?" The man snarled in rage and drew his sword.
"I don't have time for this." He lunged and drove the point of his sword home. The innkeeper stared in shock at the sword, before the man pulled it out. For a full three seconds, there was absolute silence in the tavern. Then the silence broke. Aranus leaped to his feet to escape, but it was hopeless. Everybody in the tavern had suddenly decided to either panic or fight. Chaos broke out. The man with the sword tried to push through the mass of people, but gave up. He backed away from the fight and looked for Aranus. Meanwhile, Aranus tried to extricate himself from the mob. Seeing the man coming at him as he broke free, Aranus dove to the side. Getting up, he grabbed a empty bottle and hurled it at the man, who ducked to avoid it. The delay gave Aranus time to get the counter. Desperately, he searched for a weapon of some kind. Seeing a rather unconventional one, he hefted it and threw it. The man lifted his gaze just in time to see a large sack of coins that the innkeeper had always kept behind the counter flying at him. The sack hit him in the head, and he went down, momentarily stunned. Aranus turned and charged up the stairs to where his room was. He went to his belongings and looked for it, but it wasn't there. The man had obviously searched them. Then he spied it partly buried beneath his bedroll. He lifted the sheath. And smiled. Now things were different.
Before Aranus could draw his sword, the man burst into his room, sword drawn. Aranus flicked the sword to one side, flinging the sheath against the wall. The two men circled each other slowly. Without warning, the man sprang at Aranus, swinging his sword. Aranus blocked the blow and countered with a sidestroke, aimed at the man's side. The man blocked the sword with his own.
Although the two men were almost equally matched, Aranus just slightly had the advantage. After several minutes, it was clear that he had the upper hand. Finally, the other man made a mistake. He thrust at Aranus' stomach, and Aranus locked his blade's hilt into his own, twisted. The man's sword went clattering away. Holding his sword two-handed, he swung a horizontal stroke at the man's neck.
Aranus sheathed his sword and began to search the man, to see if he had anything of importance. While he was rummaging through the man's tunic, he found a strange letter, written on very old parchment and in strange script. He opened it to see what it said.
Slior, Your mission is twofold. Travel to the Kingdom of Flandas, and gain all the knowledge of it that can gain in twelve months. From the workings of the court, to the character of the king, everything about the politics of Flandas is necessary.
Your second objective is thus: you must silence anyone who asks questions about you. If you even suspect that someone is asking questions about you, then you must smash him. It is imperative that your mission is completed in secret. Also, if you ask anyone for information, then you must silence them as well.
Return in twelve months with news of success, and Svarr will be most pleased. It may be well that Vorkun will be also.
Aranus spent much of the night pondering what the letter meant. Who was Svarr? Who was Vorkun? Was Slior the man that was carrying the letter? He decided the best course of action would be to bring the letter to the king of Flandas. He would leave immediately....
Chapter 4
When dawn came, the sun creeping over the horizon, Aranus gathered his belongings and left the inn. He hoped no one would find the body in his room, at least not until he had left town. He walked briskly until he came to the stables of the town. Seeing him approach, a stable hand called to him.
"Hey, you! You need a horse? We got best horses in Flandas. But at cheap, cheap prices." Aranus rolled his eyes and brushed past the man. He threw open the door and walked inside.
"Well, what can I do for ya?" asked the owner of the stables as Aranus approached him. The question had been unnecessary, Aranus decided. There could only be one reason why a stranger would come inside the town stables. Brushing aside his minor annoyance, Aranus smoothly replied, "I'm looking for a horse. Give me your best one."
"How much coin ya got?" asked the innkeeper, peering at him. He didn't look like the type of man that could afford a good horse, but you never know.
"Enough," Aranus said briefly, spilling a small back of crowns onto the counter. "Now, can we please get on with it?"
Ten minutes later, Aranus was riding to the north, along one of the many roads that led to the capital city of Flandas, Borl Amron. After three hours, the massive city came into view. The road became more and more crowded. Aranus noticed a good number of guards at the city's main gate. Hopefully they wouldn't be a problem.
Sure enough, none of the guards looked twice at him. Aranus rode through the streets slowly, aiming for the castle set directly in the center of the city. As he approached the castle, his amazement grew. The fortress was obviously designed with defense in mind. Outside the outer wall was a moat filled with water. There was a wooden bridge partially across, but it broke off halfway across the moat. Connecting the rest of the length was a drawbridge. Behind the drawbridge Aranus could see the gatehouse, which housed two iron portcullises.
There was a space between the portcullises, which suggested that there were smasher holes between them. In the event of an attack, the defenders would likely drop one portcullis instead of both of them. Then, in the event that the enemy got past the moat, they would drop the second portcullis, trapping them. Then, they would rain down <things> on them from the smasher holes. Beyond the gatehouse, there was another wall, thicker and taller then the first one. Between the two walls was a dry moat, filled with sharpened stakes. In the event that attackers got through the first wall, they would have to pick there way through the moat of stakes, all the while being easy targets for the castle's archers. There was another drawbridge spanning the dry moat. Beyond that, Aranus could see another gatehouse, similar to the first. He also noted the many siege weapons, turrets, battlements, and towers that lined both walls. This castle would be an extremely tough nut to crack, he thought to himself. That was probably because Flandas, being one of the stronger kindoms in Aerendor, attracted many enemies.
As Aranus rode over the drawbridge, two guards moved to block his way.
"Stand and be recognized," one of them, obviously a senior warrior, ordered. "What be your business here?"
"I have something that will be of importance to King Mathies. It concerns his kingdom." The guard was not convinced.
"Well, then, show me what you've got that's so important to His Excellency." Sighing, Aranus gave him the letter. He hadn't expected him to be able to read it, but the the man was impressed by the fancy script that it was in. "All right, go on," he said, waving him through.
Aranus rode through the archway of the gatehouse, intently gazing upon the massive castle around him. When he got to the second archway, he was not stopped, nor had he expected to have been. If he had gotten through the first gatehouse, then the only reason why was that he had been admitted by the guards. When Aranus reached the courtyard of the castle, he continued riding, towards the keep. As he approached the door to the keep, a knight walked over to him.
"Stop right there, you!" he said, with slightly more volume then politeness dictated was necessary. "What be your business here?"
"I have something important for his majesty. It is... urgent," Aranus replied. The knight was unconvinced.
"Well, then, don't just sit up there! Show me what it is that is urgent," the knight almost shouted, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Sighing, Aranus pulled the letter from an inside pocket of his tunic and handed it to the man. He looked at it in surprise. "Very well. I'll bring it to the king. Now be with you!" the man said. Aranus was quickly losing his temper.
"Listen," he said. "I will deliver this message to His Majesty now."
"What-" spluttered the pompous knight furiously. "You- You dare speak to me like that, peasant? I'll-" But he never got to finish his sentence. Something sharp pricked his skin. Sharp and cold.
"You-You dare speak to me that way?" Aranus growled in a sarcastic imitation of the man's voice. "I am Aranus er anhea, captain of the Sarithian Royal Guard, and I will speak to the king at once." The knight spoke again, grudging respect in his tones.
"Fine. Fine," he muttered, waving Aranus away. "I'll let the king's seneschal know. At once."
"Good," Aranus replied curtly. He led his horse over to the stables. As he dismounted, a stableboy ran up to him.
"I'll take care of yer horse, sir," the boy said.
"Fine," was Aranus' only reply, as he walked briskly to the doors of the keep. When he reached the doors, another guard opened them for him. Once he was inside the keep, he strode briskly down the hallway, before striding up a set of spiral stairs and entering the seneschal's office.
"Good morning," said the seneschal pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm here to talk to the king," replied Aranus. "I have something that he needs to hear." The seneschal was a shrewd man. By just looking at Aranus, he could tell that the man before him was from a higher plane of society then the ordinary rifraff that often tried to talk to the king.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but you've caught us unawares. The king is out hunting. He won't be here for a few hours. Please, will you have something to drink?" "Tea, if you have it. Coffee if you don't."
"We have tea. I'll get a servant." The seneschal walked into a sideroom, leaving Aranus by himself. He walked over to the seneschal's desk and examined several papers that were on it. None of the papers were of any interest to him. Aranus opened several of the drawers of the desk, and found nothing. In another drawer, he found sheet of parchment that appeared to be a letter. It was the same type of old parchment that the letter he had taken was written on. Intrigued, he opened it and read it.
To King Mathies: It has come to... certain sources' attentions that you are planning on leading the kingdom of Flandas into war against the Skeering kingdom. This, of course, is unecessary. Me and my associates would very much prefer if you would attack Sarithia. Of course, you will ask, "Who are you to tell what is unnecessary and where to attack?" We will give you one name, one that will suffice to tell you that our wishes must be obeyed.
Sworonus.
Sincerely, Svarr.
Aranus was surprised. Svarr was a name mentioned in the letter he had taken! "This just can't be a conincidence," Aranus muttered to himself.
Just then the seneschal came back in the room. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously as he saw Aranus at his desk. "Oh, nothing. Just-"
"Just what?" Just then, a servant came into the room, carrying a mug of coffee.
"I thought I asked for tea," Aranus muttered.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're out of tea at the moment," the seneschal replied. Aranus took the mug and sipped it slowly. He was glad that they hadn't had tea.
"So, what do you have for the king?" asked the seneschal. "Something... important, I trust?"
"Yes. Very important."
"May I have a look at it?"
"Of course." Aranus handed him the letter. As the seneschal read it, his eyes widened in surprise.
"So, this Svarr person was telling this man Slior to spy on us? That is troubling. But what is more so is that that very name is mentioned on another letter to the king." He opened the drawer of the desk and pulled out the same letter that Aranus had read and gave it to him. "What do you think?"
"That is... interesting."
Later that day, in the king's quarters, Aranus sat, talking to King Mathies.
"So, Aranus, you saw the letter that I received," said the king. Aranus nodded. "And you also have one of your own, written on the same paper and in the same script, also mentioning Svarr. Indeed, some conspiarcy theory." Aranus heard a door open behind him. "But what I have not told you is that I received another letter. Look at it well. You will find it.... interesting." Before Aranus could see the letter, he suddenly felt incredibly tired. As if he couldn't even lift his arm to take the letter. His vision was blurring. "Wha- The coffee... coffee was tainted!"
"Yes," laughed the Mathies. "You see, my newfound friends have told me that there must not be any loose ends." Aranus heard footsteps behind him. Then he collapsed.
"Take him away," the king commanded.
Chapter 5
Aranus awoke to a splitting headache and almost total darkness. He groaned. "Where am I?" Then, as his eyes expanded, remembrance cut through him. He had been betrayed... and brought here. But where was here?
He was in a small cell, roughly twelve feet by twelve feet. He stood shakily, stumbled, and finally opted to sit. The effects of the drink had obviously not worn off yet. Aranus saw a dark figure standing in the farthest corner of the cell, wreathed in shadows. Two emerald eyes gleamed from the shadows. Suddenly, the figure spoke in a deep, smooth voice. "You're finally awake, then. I was beginning to wonder how long it would take."
"Who are you?" Aranus asked. "What am I doing here?"
"That does not matter at the moment. Obviously, they did not mean to smash you, or you would not have woken up. If you are in this cell, then you are under the sentence of destruction," the figure said.
"Who do you know?" Aranus questioned.
The figure replied,"I know because I, too, am under that sentence. They would hardly put you in the same cell as someone soon to be smashed if they planned to keep you imprisoned."
"Why are you here?" growled Aranus, frustrated. "What did you do? Who are you?" As the figure stepped out of the shadows, Aranus gasped. He had never seen anything like the creature before him. From the waist down, it had the legs of a dragon. Above the waist, it had the body of a man. However, the simliarity ended at the shoulders. On the creature's shoulders sat the neck and head of a dragon, slightly larger (but a different shape, obviously) then the head of a man. The creatures legs, neck, and head were covered in crimson scales. Its eyes were as green as emeralds. In the center of its chest was a round, green orb, the size of a clenched fist. "Surprised?" the creature asked, a hint of amusement in its voice. It continued without waiting for a reply."I am a Vauthraki, a dragon-man, in your tongue. My name is Varkos."
"I'm having a hard time fitting this into my head. A dragon-man? I've never heard of you before even in legends," Aranus questioned, incredulously. "Then obviously you come from one a southern kingdom," replied Varkos. "Most people in Flandas or Skeerin or Sarithia cannot remember my kind. We live to the east and the north. Once the Vauthraki also live in all corners of Aerendor, but no more. Humans, or Isnazi as you are known to my kind, launched a war against them, thousands of years ago, with the intention to wipe us out completely."
"Why?" interrupted Aranus. "What happened?"
"Your kind feared us," Varkos said simply. "They feared that we would attack them and raid, or perhaps they feared us because of our servants, the dragons. They-" "What?" exclaimed Aranus, his voice cracking. "The dragons are the servants of the Vauthraki?"
"Perhaps servants was the wrong term. No, dragons do not do the Vauthraki's bidding, nor will they have anything to do with us. The only reason that the Isnazi believed it is so is because dragons do not attack us. They simply ignore us," Varkos explained. "So, for the only time in known history, the four kingdoms-" "But there are seven kingdoms," Aranus broke in.
"Yes," Varkos said impatiently. "But at that time there were four. They united together and attacked us, seeking to extinguish us forever. For a time, we fought them, for a spirit of war flows in a Vauthraki's veins, but eventually we realized that we would be utterly destroyed if we continued to fight. So we retreated to the wastelands of the far north and the plains and hills of the east. In time, the memory of us faded from the minds of the Isnazi, until we became nothing more then a ghost story, a story mothers use to frighted errant children to behave," he laughed bitterly. "Humans think of us as monsters, and many other races unlike themselves, while all the while they ignore the monsters of their own kind." Varkos laughed again.
"So," said Aranus, anxious to change the subject, "Why are you here? I mean, why were you here in Flandas?"
"Well, it's a long story," Varkos muttered. "When my kind plotted to retreat to the north and the east, many refused to go. They refused to leave their homeland, and instead stayed to fight till the bitter end with the Isnazi, even though it meant certain doom. Many others swore vengeance against the hated Isnazi, and our warlord at that time, Durshoth, swore that the Vauthraki would have vengeance against the Isnazi, in time. That was thousands of years ago. Now Durshoth's heir has taken the throne, and he will lead the Vauthraki against your kind. My kind are ready for war. For too long, they have waited in the shadows."
"If the Vauthraki are going to war, then why are you telling me this?" Aranus asked him.
"I do not want us to go to war. It will be useless, for even if we drive your kind back from whence you came, the cost will be too great. I traveled from our lands from kingdom to kingdom, trying to warn the kings of each kindgom about the coming threat. All of them, so far, cannot see beyond their own petty squabbles," growled Varkos angrily. "When I tried to warn the good king of Flandas, he knocked me out and put me here. That was almost a week ago," Varkos finished.
That was almost a week ago," Varkos finished.
"Okay, so that's that then. Are you sure we are to be smashed then?" Aranus asked him.
"Oh, beyond any doubt," said Varkos. "When, I cannot say, but it shall be soon, of that you may be sure."
"Well, then, we'll just have to escape," muttered Aranus. "Easier said then done."
"Not as difficult as you think," Varkos answered, a little smugly.
"I have a few lockpicks," Aranus said. "If I had a small kinfe, I might be able to pick the lock."
"That will not be necessary. Watch, and be amazed," Varkos replied. He walked over to the door of the cell. It was made of solid slabs of wood, with a small window close to the top. He stepped away with a small sigh. Meanwhile, Aranus inched closer, wondering what the Vauthraki was about to do. He saw the green stone in Varkos' chest seem to shift, then it glowed bright orange. Varkos opened his mouth wide, and a jet of orange flame shot out of his mouth, onto the door. Aranus backed away, light and heat searing his eyes. After almost a minute, Varkos closed his jaws. The door was burning, slowly at first, but eventually spreading until it was obvious the door would be consumed. Suddenly, an amazed guard ran to the door.
"Ah! What is happening!" he cried. The man ran, shouting for help.
"It is done." Varkos kicked down the door, and bending down, walked through the doorway into a dimly lit hallway. "Follow me!" he shouted at Aranus. Aranus lost no time in getting out of the cell, which had been filling with smoke.
"Now what?" Aranus asked. Varkos was already sprinting down the hallway in which the guard had disappeared.
"We'll find the warden's chest in the jail, and get our things back!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran.
"Right," muttered Aranus," and followed him at a run. Varkos turned a corner at full speed and ran straight into three guards. They quickly recovered. "Stop right there!" yelled one of them.
"Stop right there!" yelled one of the guards. As the man spoke, he tried to draw a sword at his belt, but to no avail. Varkos didn't slow down. He simply lowered his shoulder and hit the guard directly in the chest with all of his speed and power. The man's chain mail did nothing to help him. He was lifted several inches off the ground, and came crashing into the side wall.
Varkos recovered from the blow and charged the other guards. One drew his sword and attacked. "This is where you fall, monster!" he cried as he slashed left and right. Varkos dodged his strikes effortlessly, and as another jet of fire leaped from his mouth, the man went down. Spinning to avoid the third guard's halberd thrust, Varkos suddenly fell to his knees. The guard paused, uncertain as to whether he should thrust again, stood, ready to thrust....... and fell. Varkos looked up, sword in his hand, and saw Aranus standing behind the last man, holding the first guard's sword.
"Are you all right?" Aranus asked.
"Yes," growled Varkos. "It was a feint. Now, hurry, for we have little time." Leaping to his feet, Varkos set off at a run down the tunnel. Aranus turned and followed. The next time the two reached guards, Varkos didn't even try to engage them, he just sprinted on by. Aranus followed suit. Soon, he could hear a dozen guards chasing them, at least, but it seemed like they couldn't match Varkos' pace. Aranus turned a corner and almost ran straight into Varkos. The Vauthraki had stopped in front of a large door.
"Can you get it open?" Aranus asked, panting hard from their sprint down the corridors.
"Possibly," Varkos answered. "But it will take to long."
"This might help." Aranus handed him a key. Varkos didn't ask questions. He quickly unlocked the door and charged inside. Aranus followed, slamming the door behind them. Varkos grabbed a handfull of halberds from a nearby rack and wedged them into the door bar. Looking around, Aranus realized that they were in a guard barracks.
Looking around, Aranus realized that they were in a guard barracks.
"Quick, find the other exit and block it off!" shouted Varkos, as he grabbed halberds and spears to block the door. Aranus nodded in confirmation, and sprinted past racks of weapons. He came to a stop in front of a smaller door as it was suddenly thrown open from within. A large, fat man wearing a ring of keys around his belt stepped out, a look of annoyance in his eyes. By his appearance, Aranus guessed him to be the jailer.
"What-" the man gasped as he saw Aranus in front of him. His cry for help was cut off by a choking cry as Aranus brought him down.
Aranus grabbed the keys from the fallen man, and rushed through the door. As he had expected, it was the jailer's office. Off to one side was a chest and a small weapon rack.
"Yes!" Aranus exclaimed as he saw that it held weapons taken from prisoners. He spotted his knives sword, but his crossbow was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging to himself, he quickly put on his sword belt, sheathed his knives, and charged back into the main room, sword drawn.
Varkos turned from the door to see Aranus.
"Where did you get those?" he asked.
"Through that door," Aranus replied. Varkos didn't wait for him to finish his sentence, he ran into the office, eyes searching for his weapons and armor. Spotting his war axe on the rack, he rushed over to it and took it, grabbing his armor with it.
Aranus, finished with the task of barring the door, turned to look for another exit. Why were there not any guards in the barracks? he wondered. The barred door vibrated and shook as guards pounded on it from the other side. Varkos walked out of the office carrying a strange axe. Aranus had never seen its make before. Was it made of...... bone?
"What's......" his voice trailed off. "What is that axe made of?"
"Dragon bone," Varkos said briefly. He was also carrying an strange, triangular shield made of the same material. "We need to find a way out of here, now."
