MATHIAS OF HOLT IN THE EASTERN RANGE OF THE FORLORN MOUNTAINS
SUMMARY: King Aiden Skalgi tells Princess Arianna of the Dale and Mathias of Holt that Kell and Shoria have agreed to land soldiers on Asgarn to protect the Asgarn civilians.
DRAMATIZATION: Mathias raised his sword in desperation as the giant Asgarn warrior’s axe slashed down toward his face. Steel met steel, sparks danced and metal rasped on metal, but Mathias turned the blow away. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground.
The Asgarn closed in. Mathias tried to slash upward with his sword, but the whirling axe knocked the hilt from his hand and his blade spun away. The Asgarn stepped on his chest pinning his back to the earth. Mathias felt the cold steel of the axe blade against his throat.
“Little Holt. You’re dead again.” The Asgarn’s laugh was friendly enough, but it still rankled Mathias, who was not used to being knocked around. Among the Iron Cross nobles, he was considered a good swordsman, but this hulking brute of an Asgarn made him feel like a bumbling recruit.
Most of the commoners in the crowd who had been watching the fight joined the big Asgarn in his laughter, but most of the Guildsmen looked at him sympathetically. That annoyed him more. Though this was only a training match, he knew it was so much more important. He needed to make a good showing when he trained with these people. He was the son of a powerful Holt noble, and these Asgarns would judge his people by how well he fought.
“Let me up, Torkel.” Mathias said, perhaps more sharply then he should have.
The pressure on his chest did not release, and Mathias knew he’d made a mistake. These people came from a cold rocky island with inhospitable living conditions. While they loved to laugh and joke, beneath the surface they were always stone, cold, hard, and unyielding, just like their island home.
The giant man leaned forward, his weight crushing down through his boot. Mathias could not breath. “You might be able to give your princess orders from your back, but you don’t them give to me. Ask nicely, little man.”
Mathias swung a fist at Torkel’s face. It caught him in the chin, turning his face to the side. Torkel rubbed his filthy beard, smiling. “That was nice enough,” he said as he stepped away.
Mathias was on his feet in a blink. “Princess Arianna and I have always acted with honor.”
Torkel laughed good naturedly, “More’s the pity, lad.”
Mathias moved to retrieve his sword, angry and embarrassed. Macar, the cleric, picked his sword up. Mathias knew Macar fairly well. They’d played a few games of stones and gotten drunk together one night.
The cleric had spiritquested Aiden last spring after Arianna had driven a dagger through his heart. He surprised them all by having a heroic spirit. The Asgarns believed that one who can walk the world as a spirit is blessed by the gods. The Guildsmen here in the camp had been behind Aiden’s rise to power.
Aiden was willing to stand up to Gunther, and last spring, the Guildsmen supported him in order to weaken Gunther’s march on Guildhall. Of course, not all Asgarn Guildsmen had supported Aiden. Some believed in sea raiding enough to embrace the destruction of Guildhall as a means to an end, but most of those died with Gunther’s mad dream in the East Pass. Now from what he had seen, the Asgarn people were served by Guildsmen loyal to Guildhall and a King willing to consider peace.
Mathias reached for his sword, but the Cleric pulled it back out of his reach. “Best let it go lad,” Macar said. “You’ll never make one like that understand your ways of chivalry.” Mathias opened his mouth to object, but the old Cleric waved him quiet. “We Asgarns have our own ways. On Asgarn, when a man loves a woman, they do not wait. They act. Our lives are too hard, and sometimes too brief, to worry about silly rules.”
“I’m not going to discuss this with you,” Mathias told him. “Now, give me my sword.”
The old Cleric chuckled. “Talking with me will leave you with a lot less bruises.”
Mathias sighed. The moment had passed. Torkel was already walking away with a group of raiders. Mathias watched him go. He would never understand these people. They were so quick to fight, but also so quick to forget about the fight. He had watched two Asgarns beat each other bloody at their midday meal and then drink together around the fire that night, as if best friends again.
“Give him his sword old man,” Gretta said as she swaggered up to them. “He does not have time to get himself a beating anyway. King Aiden wants to see him right now.”
Gretta was a ranger about his own age, and she’d made it clear weeks ago that she was willing to break a few rules with him. They had been sparring and when he’d pinned her against the wall. She’d stolen a kiss, punched him in the gut, and then disarmed him. That was another day in the training yard that he’d made a poor showing for Holt. When she handed his sword back to him, she offered to meet him that night. Of course, he didn’t go and the next day, she’d acted like nothing had happened.
Mathias put his sword back into the scabbard. “Did Aiden say why he wanted to meet?”
Gretta shrugged, “The King does not share his counsel with me. He told old Subar to find Arianna and sent me to collect you. So let’s go.”
Mathais needed no more urging. He rushed across the camp and the guards at Aiden’s tent admitted him right away. Aiden was sitting at his table and Arianna stood with her arms crossed. She smiled at him, crossed the space to meet him, clasped his hands, and said, “Kell and Shoria have contacted Aiden.”
“It’s all set,” said Aiden from his chair. “I just finished speaking with representatives from Shoria and Kell. They’re going to help my people.” He laid his mana mirror on the table. “The Guildmasters of Evermoore authorized their Mayor, Murkon Whitetail, to write the leaders of Shoria and Kell explaining the double dealings of Holt and the possibility of an attack on Asgarn civilians by the Ancient Path.”
“They were written by other leaders as well, including Sir Adhemar Macrinus Baele, Tryggr Lokahresti, and Marik of the Black Lotus. Do you know them?” Aiden leaned back.
Mathias shook his head. “I’ve never been to Evermoore.”
“You should go there. I met Adhemar and Marik when I visited Evermoore,” Aiden mused. “They both wanted to try and kill me, but others talked them down. What a different world it would have been if I had killed them, or they me? Sven might not have sent me as the messenger. I would have never met the two of you. What a strange convergence of events?”
“You were talking about Shoria and Kell?” Mathias interrupted. “Will they send troops?”
Aiden gave Mathias a lop-sided grin. Mathias hated that look. Sometimes he thought that Aiden didn’t take anything seriously, but he knew that wasn’t true. Mathias had heard about Aiden’s hard life back in Asgarn. Beneath all the joking was a man who buried too many of his children.
“Cut’s right to the chase, doesn’t he,” Aiden said to Arianna.
“We would like to know the results of your conversation,” Arianna said diplomatically.
“Shoria and Kell have agreed to send troops to protect the Asgarn civilians.” Aiden stood up. Mathias could see the Asgarn was truly relieved. “We have also laid the groundwork for the renewal of the Northern Confederation. The new treaty will not bind the member nations blindly, but will allow for mutual defense and support and withdrawal if any nation acts aggressively without provocation.”
“That is good news.” Mathias said.
“It’s great news.” Aiden took a drink from a mug. “But there is still some concern.” He put the mug down. “It will take a week for troops from Shoria and Kell to arrive on Asgarn, and then more time to protect the inland towns.”
“You could not have gotten home any quicker,” Mathias told him. “Fighting through the Dale could have taken a week or more. Then you’d have to load your ships while engaged in combat.”
“I know that, Mathias,” Aiden said. “That’s why I’m still here. If not for the intercessions of the Guildmasters of Evermoore, I would have been forced to leave a trail of bodies all the way to the sea. Among the dead would be Asgarns I’ll need to defend our homeland.”
“You owe a debt to the Guildmasters of Evermoore.” Arianna sat down at the table.
“I guess I do,” said Aiden. “But only if it all works out. The Guildmasters of Evermoore still need to prove Holt’s double-dealing and show Justin’s ulterior motives to the other leaders of the Five Kingdoms. They still need to get this army out of my way.”
“They’ll do that,” Arianna patted Aiden’s hand. “Once all the evidence comes to light, the Five Kingdoms will let you pass without fighting. Holt will have to back down or look totally unreasonable. You’ll see, all will be well.”
“You grew up in the Dale where things are always pretty. You live in a land of flowers, of sweet smelling soil, of warm rain and pretty snow.” Aiden pulled his hand away. “I live in a harsh world where things are never pretty. My world is rock and cold and freezing rain. I don’t see all things being well. I worry about what will happen if the evidence does not come to light. What if the deeds are lost, or the orders destroyed?”
Arianna opened her mouth to speak, but could not seem to find the words.
“You don’t think Justin is going to sit idle do you,” Aiden continued. “If he’s the monster you think he is, then he’s making plans. He’s learning from his mistakes. He’s getting ready to let his hammer fall.”
Mathias realized Aiden was right. This story was not winding down; this story was just beginning. Everything would be decided in Evermoore, and that realization was a sobering thought.
PLAYER PROLOGUE Roulette, Played by Nick Gish, Melissa Buccine, Gabriella Kenny, Matthew Miller, Kathleen Burns, James Thompson
LOCATION: At a hidden comedy pawn compound in the North Forlorn Mountains...
Screams echoed across the camp as one by one masked pawns collapse in a heap of blood and intestines. The buildings of the small comedy pawn compound burned all around them and added to their terrified yells. Secretly, torches had been positioned earlier to set fire to the structures with scraps of cloth dipped with highly flammable alchemical compounds wrapped around them. The first building that had caught on fire alerted the pawns that something was wrong, but by then, it was too late.
As the last of the comedy pawns died from various wounds, the glow from the figure cast dark shadows across the silent camp. The being moved forward and the ground remained undisturbed by the boots which hovered over the surface.
A wind picked up causing the flames from the fires to rise higher in the sky, and a familiar feeling washed over Roulette. They couldn’t contain their laughter any longer. The destruction was invigorating! The justice they brought down upon these miserable pawns brought a gleeful grin to their face. And with the obliteration of Damn the Comedy Avatar, there wasn't anyone willing to protect these weak fools.
“There is a mana flow here. It’s time to cast a new circle.” Roulette stopped laughing and looked to the right and the feminine spirit at their side echoed him.
The spirit of Rayleigha looked resigned to this wanton display of destruction. When the god spoke, it was as if the two of them were speaking as one being. “I need to survey the bodies and find the.. Perfect specimens.”
The other spirits that comprised Roulette drifted about to check the bodies and discarding the ones that were too undesirable to become one of their undead. Behind them, Roulette continued invoking along with Rayleigha to create the circle. Soon the spirits of Victor, Vorruna, Kaidan, and Shannon returned to speak to the avatar of which comedy pawns deserved to be raised. Roulette nodded after each spirit spoke to them.
The voice of the avatar boomed over the burning compound. “Using the chaos within I cast - Call corpses! All corpses come to me. Come to me and serve your new god.” The bodies rose from the ground and shuffled towards the avatar. Within a few minutes, the chosen pawns were transformed into their new undead soldiers and stood to attention, awaiting for their orders.
The undead had the remnants of comedy dressings on and several still had hats on their heads. The blood splatters on the clothes showcasing how they died were disconcerting but the god ignored it as they surveyed the new additions to their army.
The spirit of Shannon grinned and tapped the avatar for attention. Roulette turned his attention to her spirit. To an outside observer, the being had turned to look at nothing. “Same deal as before, yeah?” The spirit’s voice was laced with mischief. The avatar nodded and turned their attention back to the undead lined up.
"You have heard of Roulette and know my reputation over the last few months when dealing with Comedy like you. But now you are mine. Mine to do with what I please. And I will treat you better than your former masters. When your subservience ends, remember this." Roulette said. The god took a sip from a flask and began to hover over the ground once more.
The spirit of Kaidan put his hand on Roulette’s shoulder and they both spoke as one. “The next time that you are before your god, I will bare a different face. You will know it is one of my Aspects when I speak this phrase to you. Listen to my orders as you do now.”
The spirit of Victor put his hand on the avatar’s other shoulder. Roulette raised a hand to his temple. All of the undead heard this secret phrase etched into their minds.
The spirit of Vorruna shoved Kaidan off Roulette and took her place at Roulette's side. “You are burdened with a glorious purpose. Your duties will include eliminating all pawns you come across and any cultists that you find in your travelling to the nearby town. Spread the word of Roulette and inspire them to raise temples of us and all of our Aspects. You are to build our following.”
The spirit of Shannon replaced Victor's spot. "Follow us and you will be spared destruction as long as you serve Roulette and no other.”
As Roulette left the undead to fulfill their orders, the avatar hovered past the burning compound and headed towards the shadows of the forest edging the property. The spirits drifted beside him.
“Now then, I have a birthday to celebrate. I need to gather a few supplies to make this one to remember…” Roulette’s gleeful voice fading as they enter the darkness of the forest once more and the glow of their godly presence lighting the way.
PLAYER PROLOGUE
Sam and Renoa, played by Rachel Sneed and Kristin Wilhelmy
AT THE ELVEN PROTECTORATE
Sam’s wagon pulled up to the front of the main protectorate building, with Renoa on horseback traveling next to the wagon. The sight of the Elven Protectorate still made them sad. The once glorious central building of the Protectorate was now partially destroyed. It was hastily repaired in some places, and in others, it still held the wreckage of the Asgarn battle.
Individual homes and businesses were in various states of ruin. Some were patched as well as possible with limited supplies and labor, some were glorified lean-tos, cloths in place of full walls or roofs. It was clear that those with homes had taken in those without. Elven children ran around giggling, in dirty, ill-fitting clothing patched and re-sewn.
The defense bastions were all but destroyed, a few were nothing more than crumbling stone, others were barely taller than the average elf. None were the grand towers that they used to be. The entrances to the under realm were sturdy, but no longer beautiful. The intricately carved supports were cracked and lashed together with rope. The steps downward were stained with blood and dirt.
Deep under the protectorate, the residents knew that in some of the collapsed tunnels and households, there was the possibility that whole families of Deep Elves would never see the realm again. The stead below had a few major collapses. There were efforts every day to dig them out, and place strong supports, but it was a long, and tiring process, especially for those who did not know how to properly excavate the tunnels. The elves hoped their brothers and sisters had collapsed the tunnels themselves, in an effort to protect the Stead. If they did, then it was certain they would be reunited again. The entire community was sad and exhausted, but refused to give up hope.
Children and adults alike came out to meet the few wagons they had brought with them. Sam brought what she could from the estate and Lavinia’s Bed and Breakfast once a month, but it wasn’t really enough. Still, it was something, and the elves at the protectorate were always appreciative.
Sam and Renoa began to unload the wagons, handing the items off to those who would distribute them fairly. Two elderly ladies, a high elf and a low elf, pulled an empty cart towards the wagons. They looked hopefully up to Sam, whose face brightened when she noticed them.
“Arlayna! Riniya! It took me a bit, but I’ve got a surprise for you!” She pulled out two full sacks, stuffed to the brim with wool, and a pouch. Inside the pouch, Sam revealed 3 drop spindles and 3 sets of knitting needles. The elderly elves’ hands clapped together, as they loaded their cart with the wool and knitting supplies.
“Just in time for the winter! Thank you!” Renoa passed a large stack of warm blankets to a Sea Elven man, he thanked her for helping, and asked her name. When she answered, he responded that his family would not soon forget her generosity. His eyes were tired, but kind. His eyes wandered to the patched Underrealm entrance, and he took his hand in hers. “We’re working hard to reopen the Underrealm. Once we do, the Stead will be able to rejoin us again.”
The Warlocks moved on to the last wagon, and when they opened it, the children gasped. It was brimming with brightly colored boxes and bags, gifts from the members of the Warlock’s guild, as well as other friends from Evermoore.
For the first time in quite a while, the residents of the protectorate looked happy. They were finally feeling the love and concern of Evermoore and the rest of the Realm.