It isn't much for the time I've had, but, like I said, I've been busy on vacation here in Sing'pore. Rushing here, rushing there, trying to buy as many video games as I can... You know the deal.
This "section" has yet to be complete, but I like it so far.
By the time the two had reached the camp, dawn had started to stain the sky with a rosy glow, and the pair had become fast friends. A lone man dressed in fur robes and holding a crude, almost shovel-like axe stood on watch at the eastern entrance to the camp, but Kalvar surmised that at one word from that man would awaken dozens of warriors who probably all slept but lightly near that post.
“Ho, Nine Serpent,” ny’Marro called out to the man. “It’s just me.”
The man looked inquiringly at Kalvar. “Who is that with you, young archer?” he asked in a deep, rumbling tone that sounded hauntingly familiar to Kalvar, who drew the hood of his thick woolen traveler’s cloak down.
“My name is Kalvar,” he answered before his new friend could say anything. “And you are…?”
“I am known as Nine Serpent Bloody Sun,” the strange man replied, "and you hide your true name, I see. I am sure, though, that you have your reasons; I shall not ask them of you.”
“Thank you for such consideration, Nine Serpent,” Kalvar answered formally and nodding his head slightly.
“Come, Kalvar, there is much that has happened in recent years that I am sure you are curious of. I think I may yet persuade Alric to see you. Your skills ever were of the highest degree, and I am sure that the leader of the Nine shall be interested in your myriad talents.” The man started leading the way back towards a large pavilion set up in the center of the camp in a shuffling gait, stopping once only to shake a warrior of middle years awake and curtly ask him to take his place at watch.
“Did I miss something there?” ny’Marro asked his friend. “You two were almost speaking as if you had known each other for years.”
“Don’t worry about it, friend. I’m not really sure if there was anything to miss. Perhaps this Alric can answer some questions for the both of us.”
They soon arrived at the pavilion, and there Nine Serpent requested audience with Alric, which, surprisingly, was granted almost immediately. As they walked into the tent, Kalvar noticed that it was surprisingly devoid of grandiose furnishings of any kind, and the thing that immediately caught his attention was the round table set up in the exact center of the room. Around that table were ???# men, ???#-1 of which appeared to be of great wisdom and experience. The other, a fearsome looking Berserk of the great northern lands stood off to one side, holding a cask or some kind in his arms.
“Yes, Nine Serpent?” one asked respectfully.
“Greetings, Alric. I wished to introduce you to this man standing beside me,” he said, gesturing to Kalvar. “He has great skill as both a tactician and a warrior, and I felt that perhaps you might like to meet him for yourself.”
Alric curtly nodded his head at Kalvar. “If Nine Serpent Bloody Sun gives you so much credit, I would gladly take this matter further.” He looked back to the other men standing around the table. “However,” he continued, “we shall have time for introductions later. We ought to return to the matter at hand, I think.”
The other men nodded their agreement, and they all turned expectantly towards the Berserk. The giant northman set the cask upon the table and opened it, then put his hand in and drew out a severed head by the hair.
Quite suddenly, the head opened its eyes and stared balefully around the tent. Kalvar drew in a sharp breath, and deliberately turned away from the thing, drawing his hood back over his face. ny’Marro, though a bit shaken at the sight of the head, looked at his friend, perplexed.
Nine Serpent caught on almost immediately. “Perhaps I and my two companions ought to adjourn for a short while,” he rumbled.
Alric looked first at Kalvar, who still stood with his back resolutely facing the table, and then back to Nine Serpent. “Perhaps you’re right, old friend. You can introduce us to your friend later this afternoon,” he agreed.
The three exited the pavilion, and Nine Serpent led them back to a largish tent not far from the eastern edge of the encampment. Kalvar didn’t take his hood down until they had all entered the tent, and his face was a conflict of worry and disgust.
“They dug him up?” he asked incredulously. “After all these years of warring the Dark, they’re still stupid enough to dig up him?”
“He always was an enemy of Balor’s,” Nine Serpent told him. “Besides, the rest of us don’t have quite the same perspective about him as you do.” Kalvar glared at him, then walked to the back to the tent and drew up a chair, where he sat fuming. He could hear ny’Marro questioning Nine Serpent behind him.
“What’s wrong with him?” the fir’Bolg asked.
“That head that was in the cask was an enemy of the Light, long ago. We would all do well to take a large grain of salt, if we are to believe anything it says.” Nine Serpent looked towards Kalvar. “He holds a personal grudge of some sort against it on top of his knowledge of what it is. He’s never told anybody exactly what happened to make him despise the accursed thing so much.”
“So you and Kal do know each other,” ny’Marro said. “How so?”
“That is a long story, young fir’Bolg,” the grizzled man replied in his gravelly voice, “and—”
“And one we don’t have time for at the moment,” Kalvar cut him off. He turned around then. “More importantly, though, exactly what is going on? All I know are the garbled rumors that reached the lands of the east.”
“Balor resurfaced some fifty years ago,” Nine Serpent began. “He had six generals under his command, who we called the Fallen Lords. The four actively attacking us now are known as Soulblighter, Shiver, the Deceiver, and the Watcher. I believe you know of the last two.”
“Myrdred and Bahl’al... why am I not surprised. What about Damas?”
Kalvar asked.
“He and Soulblighter are one and the same. He’s the very worst of them.” The old man paused. “When Balor reemerged, he released the Trow and coerced them into joining his forces. The Watcher, of course, summoned up Thrall by the scores of thousands, and the Deceiver had soon captured entire armies. Balor himself tricked the Kithless into joining him, though that was some two and a half centuries prior. They are also known as Myrmidons now.
“After he had assembled his army, he marched on Muirthemne... the Heron Guard had been called away, and the skeletal forces they had left behind were no match for the hordes of the Dark. Muirthemne fell, and the Heron fell with it. We have all become journeymen, and we all carry five of the golden tiles from Muirthemne’s broken walls. The great cities of the dwarves were razed by the ghôls, and all civilization between the Cloudspine and the ???? has been decimated.
“That was when the armies of the west joined together. The berserks of the north, the warriors of the Province, the fir’Bolg, and the remnants of the dwarves all joined together. Nine of the most powerful living Avatara have joined together to lead us. Yet still, Balor has continued to defeat us at every turn. Madrigal is the last free city of the north, and the south is not much better off. That is how we fare.”
“I see...” Kalvar trailed off. “It is hopeless then?”
“Not quite. Alric shows much promise. It is possible that he may yet lead us to some victory, though how he might do it is quite beyond my many years of experience.”
You can read the beginning at the link below, if you want.
Dm.
