Well, Hopefully this will be the last time I re-post this story. After I have a few friends read it for me and look for errors I've missed I'm going to have a hard copy made and let this story finally rest for good.
I've busted my butt doing one final draft, and this is the result. I'll be reading the rest of the chapters and posting them as I become satisfied with them, and if you readers should notice any serious errors I've missed, do let me know in the reviews section, along with whatever else you'd like to say.
Thank you.
Love & War: A Change of Fate.
By: Josh Dahl
Edited in part by: Alyssa Thomas
Is a man's path really of his own choosing? Can the transgressions one encounters in life be avoided or is every man doomed to one simple fate? If one choice is made differently, will all that follows be altered as well…?
Prologue: The War of the Gods of Light and Darkness
The Era of the Gods was closing, their once Eternal rule had come to an end. The heavens trembled as the armies of Falis, supreme God of Light, clashed with those of Falaris, God of Darkness. The time of the final battle had come.
Their perpetual struggle ensued, the Earth wept, the seas boiled, and the skies erupted in lightning and flame. It was a vicious battle, and in the end each side had but one survivor; Marfa, Goddess of Creation and Kardis, Goddess of Destruction. They met in the final battle that echoed to the ends of the Earth.
At the climax of that final confrontation, when the land was crumbling into nothing, the two combatants prepared to strike the final blow against one another. They charged and struck with all their strength and malice, mortally wounding each other.
The Dark Goddess fell to earth first. With her final breath, Kardis cursed the land, ensuring its utter destruction. However, this was not to be. For with her final breath, Marfa's words split away the portion of land that was tainted, thus preserving the rest.
In the end, the Gods were destroyed by their own great power and a new land was born, broken away from the rest of the continent. The last of the flames of the once invincible forces of the Goddesses of Light and Dark flickered and died away.
Thousands of years have passed and now the island to the south of the continent of Alacrast has become know as Lodoss, the accursed island.
Chapter 1: Preparations and Introductions
Ashram awoke and sat forward in his cot. He could hear the sounds of the horses and soldiers outside of his tent. He looked around for a moment, not wanting to accept that it was morning yet. His eyes were still sleepy and his muscles ached from the hard day before.
There was work to be done however, and it was on his shoulders to make sure it was done properly. He slowly slipped out of his cot and picked up the various pieces of his heavy black plate armor. One by one, he gathered them up from the corner of the tent.
Ashram arched backwards, stretching out his back and pulling his abdominal muscles tight against his skin. He let out a weathered groan as he completed the stretch. More than anything at that moment, he yearned to spend a couple more quality minutes with his bed, but his better judgment told him it was time to arise and get on with the day.
'Back into the fire.' Ashram thought as he slipped on his boots and leg armor. Next, he began to piece together the torso and other upper portions of his armor. Just as he finished attaching his shoulder guards, his stomach started to rumble.
'Time for some breakfast.' He thought to himself as he finished strapping on the remaining armor and stepped outside his tent, getting his first taste of the new day. The sun was just coming up and seemed particularly bright to him at that moment.
'Ughhhh…' Ashram squinted his icy blue eyes as they adjusted to the light. With his armor on he was an imposing sight to behold. His black armor covered his body almost in its entirety. It was made specifically for him, fitting his toned frame perfectly. His torso armor was formed around his nature musculature, which was impressive to say the least.
The armor was a little thinner than what was considered standard, which meant it was somewhat weaker. But it also meant that he was much lighter on his feet and won't tire as easily. He rarely took a hit anyway and the armor was still strong enough to hold up against most attacks in any case. It was a good balance for him.
He was a tall man, nearly seven feet tall in all. He towered over most anyone he came across. He was built solid too. He trained himself into peak physical condition and it showed. He was toned with lean muscle from head to toe, a man in the prime of his life. He was about twenty seven and had all the vigor and verve the came with that age, though more so when he was fully awake.
He did not wear a helmet, as it would obstruct his vision and he required it to be sharp. His facial features were distinct and striking, he exuded confidence. He had noble features, refined and aristocratic in nature. To look in his eyes was to see a glimmer of his cunning and intelligence. His hair was raven black and it flowed to about his mid to upper back. It stood out in stark contrast against his pale white skin.
He wore a black cape that was crimson in the inner lining, it added to his specter-like appearance. The cape hooked onto his armor under his bulky shoulder guards. The armor around his neck was specially crafted and decorative, it was trimmed with gold. There were also three ruby gemstones cast in the center of the gold. Ashram was a model of a soldier balanced with nobility, everything a knight should be.
All Ashram could see around him was the rest of the Marmo Army, like him, beginning to rise with the new day. The camp was massive; it seemed to cover the entire countryside. The morning air was just a shade too cold for his taste. Though mornings were always like that in Valis, and he had just begun to adjust to it. The first feel of it every morning always seemed to catch him off guard. Still, there was comfort in knowing the sun would warm the air in a short while, and the minor annoyance would trouble him no longer.
The Marmo camp was situated in a sandy, rocky terrain in the Northwestern countryside of Valis. Under Beld's watchful eye, Ashram had led their army deep into Valis' heartland. The rumor was that they had inflicted enough damage that the main Valisian Army had finally been called out to meet them. Ashram and Beld were expecting them to arrive within the next three nights, and were formulating a plan to crush them. They had fought and won countless engagements already, but so far they had been mostly just minor battles and skirmishes. The Valisian Army was larger than theirs and remained mostly intact at that moment.
However, if the next major battle was won, Valis' army would be crippled and the rest of the country would be theirs for the taking. And if Valis fell, what remained of the other kingdoms aligned to them would either swiftly fall to the march of their army or surrender outright.
The next battle had to be won first though, and it probably wasn't going to be a simple task. Valis had taken some hideous losses in the first couple months of the war, but the main body of their army was still expected to be much larger than Marmo's. The scouts in the Marmo army wouldn't have to trouble themselves with counting heads to know that fact.
'Just as well.' Ashram thought confidently. 'If Valisian Knights think their numbers will win the battle for them alone, then their arrogance will be their undoing.' Ashram was well aware that a numerical advantage could not win a battle by itself, it did help of course.
There were other factors that had to be taken into account. Numbers aside, the Marmo army had several key advantages. First, they would be the ones to choose where the two armies would meet. Ashram knew that picking the right ground to fight a battle on makes all the difference in the world, especially when one is outnumbered.
Second, through Beld's manipulation of the monsters under Wagnard's control, they would have thousands of expendable shock troops at their disposal at any point during the battle. Ashram had no qualms about sacrificing them in feigning maneuvers or having them do the dangerous jobs that most human or elfish soldiers were too smart to do willingly. He didn't particularly like having the monsters in the army and was happy to send them to their deaths at every opportunity available to him.
Ashram pushed aside those thoughts from his mind. For the moment, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He knew he wasn't going to be thinking of good strategy later if he didn't get some good food in him now. He walked away from his tent and made his way through the encampment. He walked past a portion of the motley lot that made up the Marmo army, which included goblins, kobolds, orcs, human foot soldiers, and mercenaries they had acquired as they pushed through Kannon and Alania.
The standard uniform for a common Marmo soldier was primarily a black vest which covered their shoulders, chest, and hips. There was decorative gold trim around the neck of the vest, which included the eyes of Marmo. There was also an undershirt with long sleeves. It was a deep dark red, as were the pants they wore. Most of the men wore black boots, gloves, and a belt as well. The human soldiers wore a single light piece of plate armor under their uniform to protect their chest and greaves over their shins. The majority of them also chose to wear a visor that covered the upper half of their faces.
The beasts Wagnard had brought into the army mostly just wore the vest to identify them as being with the Marmo army and distinguish them from ones in the wild. They didn't bother to put armor on them. The most notable difference between their uniforms and that of the regular soldiers was three two-inch metal spikes that protruded from each of their shoulders. Emperor Beld felt it would make them appear more intimidating to their foes. And it seemed to work. Time and time again, Valisian soldiers crumbled beneath their charge.
Also in the Marmo ranks were Ashram's brothers in arms, and the heart of the army, the Marmo Knights. They were the elite warriors of the dark Isle of Marmo. They were the pride and dignity of the army. Their reputation and prowess on the battlefield were both well known throughout Lodoss. Ashram found that quite often their presence alone made up being outnumbered on the battlefield. They provided the hammer stroke, which most often broke their enemies lines.
The knights' uniforms were very similar to that of the common soldiers. They however wore extensive black armor, protecting most of their upper torsos. The majority of them also wore a black helmet with a retractable visor. There was a white crest that protruded out from the back of their helmets. It was made from horse tail, marking them as cavalrymen. When Ashram took to the field, he always had a close escort of knights with him.
The final group that made up the Marmo army were dark elves. There were only a handful of them compared to the other races, but the elves served a useful purpose. Their superior senses and natural stealth made excellent scouts and spies. Their uniforms were pretty well identical to the regular soldiers, but the elves didn't bother with armor, they preferred to be unencumbered in battle.
Ashram respected the dark elves, for their abilities if nothing else. The elves had their own code of honor. They were typically very obedient and respectful to him, which he liked. Although some were notably arrogant towards humans in general. A lot of dark elves had built up a staunch sense of superiority, but any of them that would dare talk down to him would soon meet the back of his hand. And if they weren't so lucky, perhaps even the tip of his sword. Few had ever tested in him though.
Ashram would be well justified to discipline them as he saw fit. After all, he was the commanding general of the army, the superior officer to all who served in the Marmo army. It was a position that demanded respect from everyone. The only person he answered to was Beld, the Emperor of Marmo himself. As such, it would be improper for anyone to show him disrespect or insult him, whether it be from a man or otherwise.
Though Beld's example, Ashram learned that he should never stand for insubordination in any shape or form in his midst. He enforced his policy with a very firm hand. To him, staunch military discipline was the key to victories.
After walking for about a minute, Ashram finally spotted the officers' mess tent. On the way there, he noticed an attractive female dark elf looking at him from a nearby tent.
'She looks familiar…' Ashram thought as he passed by her, but couldn't quite place where she was from.
She was quite striking, even from a distance. She had slender and delicate features and a pretty face. She was about five foot eight and she of course had pointed ears, as every elf did. She was a picture of gracefulness. She wore soft pink lipstick on her lips, a golden circlet around her forehead, and a golden bracelet around her right upper arm.
Her most noticeable feature however was her snow white hair. It was long, smooth, and pulled back into a neat braid. She had small bangs which she pushed off to the side. Her eyebrows were also white and sharp. Her eyes themselves were a soft auburn and invigorating to look at. Her skin was healthy, tan, and flawless.
Another thing that made her stand out was her uniform. It had to be the most unique in the whole army. It had the typical gold trim with the eyes of Marmo around the neckline, like all Marmo uniforms had, but that was where the similarities stopped. The biggest difference was her uniform was almost completely white. It consisted of a white form-fitting sleeveless vest that had a diamond shaped open area in the chest that exposed the inner portion of her breasts. They filled out the vest in a way that pleased most of the men she came across.
The vest connected to a white skirt that stopped about halfway down her thighs. She wore white heeled boots that reached up to just above her knees and white gloves that extended halfway to her elbow. She also wore a rapier at her side that was the proper balance of elegant and deadly in the right hands. She also had a brace that held three throwing daggers.
How was it that Ashram didn't take a better look as he passed her was hard to determine. He was still groggy from just getting up, so perhaps that was why he wandered by without pausing. He had also shared some wine with Beld last night, so his thought process wasn't yet firing on all cylinders.
On top of both of those facts, the last few days had been extremely draining on him. He was exhausted both physically and mentally. It was just last night that he had led the attack on Valis' Northern border forces. Afterwards, Beld felt they should celebrate the victory, and they may have overindulged with the wine.
'I really shouldn't be so tired.' Ashram thought, disappointed with himself. 'The soldiers from Valis weren't much of a challenge at all. I thought they were supposed to be the best knights on the entire island.' Ashram had been eagerly looking forward to crossing swords with Valisian Knights. He thought they'd be a worthy challenge, but the ones he fought turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. He smiled recalling the battle and how swiftly they fell.
'Disciplining my own troops after the skirmish was more difficult, or at least more tedious.' He mused. If there was any-one-thing Ashram disliked about command, it was dealing with the undisciplined subordinates. The incident in question happened while he was in the middle of discussing strategies with Beld, a fact that particularly irritated him.
'Wait a second, that's it.' Ashram's memory final clicked. 'That elf woman by the tent just now was the same dark elf from last night. Yes, she was the one standing by the fire being harassed by that foolish, drunken soldier. I knew she looked familiar...'
A small goblin suddenly darted out from a tent Ashram was passing by, and ran flat into him. Its head smashed into the lower portion of the armor covering his abdomen. The goblin bounced off the armor like an acorn, and with a slight metal ring. The creature fell straight down, flat on its back with a thud. The goblin was stunned for a moment, as if it were just a small child who had hit his head on a cabinet.
Confused, it glanced up at Ashram. He was towering over the goblin and looked down at it with an aggravated, yet somehow calm, expression. Ashram said not a word, but held his icy glare on the goblin. The goblin appeared to be frozen with fear. It really couldn't be blamed; Ashram was the infamous Black Knight of Marmo. His reputation was that of a man who should never be trifled with, a dark phantom whom few encountered and survived. Now in reality, he wasn't so malicious as all that, but he could see how having some of his troops perceive him in that light wasn't a completely bad thing.
Ashram stood there for just a moment more watching the goblin, then resumed walking. His long stride went directly over the goblin, his foot landing just a few inches left of its head. The goblin watched him walk away for a minute, looking up from over his shoulder. It waited until Ashram had gotten a safe distance away, then scurried off back where it had come from.
'Globins, they aren't too imposing at first glance, but they are wicked quick and when employed in large numbers, are difficult to deal with.' Ashram thought to himself. That fact made them useful, and that was the only reason he tolerated them. After a few more long, annoyed strides, Ashram entered the mess tent.
The aroma of the room was almost refreshing to him. It was almost refreshing because for a second he had managed to forget how unappealing the food there actually was. If he didn't need to eat, or if he had any other options, he wouldn't bother with what the cooks there called food. But, since he did have the need and there weren't any other options, he didn't have much choice in the matter.
Ashram preferred the comforts of Beld's large dining hall back on Marmo, where he had a great many number of choices that he could dine on. Pork, eggs, and wild berries were the most appealing to him at that moment. His mouth watered with thoughts of the savory memories.
Too bad none of those things could be found on the menu in the mess tent. The greasy fat man, who dared to call himself a chef, plopped down a stale loaf of bread covered with gravy upon a plate for him. The bread was accompanied by some type of meat that Ashram couldn't quite identify. It too was also swimming in gravy, with a small slice of cheese off to the side. The plump chef pushed the plate towards Ashram as he approached.
Ashram's innards cringed as he looked closer at the mystery meat on the plate, it was just slightly greasier than the cook's forehead. The cook's nearly toothless smile didn't help Ashram's appetite much either.
'It's still not too late.' Ashram told himself, reconsidering going back into bed. But he begrudgingly accepted the meal from the chef, and sat down by himself on a bench in the corner of the tent. The food wasn't anything to brag about, but he decided it was enough nourishment to keep a soldier going, and that's all that mattered.
Ashram sat there alone eating for several minutes. He tried to imagine better flavors as he chewed and swallowed; promising himself that they would capture better foods stores the further they pushed into Valis.
Before long, he saw the same dark elf woman who he had noticed outside earlier. She entered the tent with a group of dark elves. Ashram didn't know her name or rank, but it was apparent to him that she ranked fairly high among the elves. From what he observed, all the other dark elves with her seemed to report to her and showed her a certain level of respect at all times. She picked up a plate and sat across the room with her group.
Ashram continued to eat, trying to put her out of his mind. Try as he might though, her firm, smooth, petite, legs that occupied her notably short white skirt, occasionally ran in and out of his head as he sat there. But at the very least, it was a welcome distraction from the food.
Abruptly, there was a loud clang from a pan dropped by the chef that made Ashram look up momentarily. As he did, he noticed the dark elf woman was staring at him again. She tried to look away as soon as she saw him look up, but Ashram unmistakably caught her gaze. He thought about saying something to her, but a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up to see one of his cavalry officers standing next to him.
"Lord Ashram, you are needed to oversee the loading of supplies for our next outing. We are not positive of exactly how much we'll need for the next few days. Considering the importance of the mission, and since you're better informed of the mission's details, I think you should make the decision."
"Very well, I'll be there soon lieutenant." Ashram said before taking a drink of water.
"Yes my Lord." The officer bowed. "Enjoy your… meal sir." The officer smirked as he glanced at the plate of bubbling gravy and then towards the fat cook. Ashram looked up at him with a sarcastic gleam in his eye. The lieutenant continued to smile and left.
Ashram quickly finished his meal, got up, and began to exit the tent. The cavalry officer was one of the knights who personally rode with him. The mission he had referred to was a sneak attack on Valis' advanced scouting forces. One tactic the Valis military liked to use, was to send out a small force that was meant to draw in the enemy so the main army, which usually followed closely behind, could hammer down on them when they were ready.
As Ashram walked out, he spared one more glace to the attractive dark elf. He decided not to approach her, having little time to waste questioning her, especially for the simple crime of staring at him. A part of him however would have liked to take the time for an interrogation of a different sort.
As Ashram walked to the supply depot, he started to think about the conversation with Beld the night before. The conversation began with strategy, but ended with the topic of causalities. Beld said that their losses were a necessary shield. Ashram knew he was right; it was a cold hard fact of war, people died. Even under the best of conditions, there was always going to be collateral damage. Ashram started to think about how he would fit into that equation.
He owed Beld his life, that and so much more. Everything he had and everything he was, Beld was responsible for. At the beginning of the war, Ashram had come to a decision. If uniting Lodoss under Marmo's flag meant he'd have to die in the process, then in his mind that was acceptable. For his master Beld, he would do it. It wasn't that he would intentionally put himself in harms way needlessly, but wasn't afraid of any danger he might face either. His love for Beld and personal sense of honor outweighed any urges of personal preservation he might have had.
Ashram was indeed very much prepared to die for the Marmo cause, but it wasn't all just loyalty. All in all, he wasn't always enthusiastic about life anyway; by all rights he should be dead already. It was true Beld had been very good to him, and he had lived the last couple years of his life with all the creature comforts, but Ashram's past held deep wounds that often stifled his will to live.
It is never a simple matter for anyone to enter Beld's service, but in Ashram's case, it was a particularly painful process. The early years of his life were paved in grief. He had a reputation of being cold, but what was not well known to the world was that the source of that coldness was the brutal death of his family. Their loss had left him bitter and had a fueled his rift from those around him. He found it hard to connect to other people, so few of them understood the emotional trauma he had been through. Only his master Beld could really grasp his feelings and he used that understanding to push Ashram in the direction he wanted him to go.
Beld helped Ashram deal with his loss by training him, molding him into something that would be useful to him. Ashram spent years in virtual isolation while training, and building his reputation as being the seemingly emotionless Black Knight. But his unshakable demeanor, his intense focus and discipline, also helped him become the champion of the Marmo Army.
Hate, anguish, and pain pushed Ashram towards darkness. Intense inner fury forged the iron fist of the Black Knight. But something was changing in Ashram as the War of Heroes continued to drag on. His youthful anger was fading and his need for revenge seemed somewhat less important.
He began to realize that when the war was over, he would no longer have a purpose. His best talents were all found on the battlefield. War, or preparing for war were all he had know for so long. If they won the war he would have no one left to fight, and if they lost, it wouldn't matter. He had started to contemplate the possibility of being meant for something more, but he didn't know what that was.
Since he had taken his place at Beld's side, Ashram had earned himself a reputation for being tough and uncompromising. The oddest part of it was people really started to believe that he had no emotions, even while locked in the life and death struggle of battle. This was of course all folly. The fact of the matter was that Ashram did indeed still feel things, but he chose to bury them deep inside. Otherwise they threatened to overwhelm him.
In recent weeks though, perhaps stirred by the strains of prolonged warfare, his feelings were being to resurface. More than anything, Ashram felt powerful guilt for his family. All his family had died when he was very young. He felt guilty because he had lived when they died. He felt it was his rightful place to have died along side them. He wished he had died along side them. What was he suppose to do all alone? How was he supposed to go on without them?
But despite his yearning, nothing would change the fact that fate had placed him away from home when hell descended on it. When he returned, he faced the carnage left in the wake of an orc attack. None of his kin were spared from the rampage that claimed their lives. Both his parents and his sister were brutally slaughtered without mercy.
Though only a boy at the time, he still vividly remembered coming home that day and walking through the front yard, witnessing the fallout first hand. It looked as though his father had put up a decent fight. The yard was littered with many corpses of the retched beasts. Orcs aren't well known for their skills with weaponry or their fighting ability, but their instinctual tactic of coming in overwhelming numbers well makes up for it. On that day, their sheer numbers were too much for Ashram's father, and had won out in the end.
Anything of value had been taken from the small farm, what remained was reduced to ruble and unusable. Anything that had been alive beforehand was dead. Everything was gone, the livestock, food stores, the house, and people living there. Ashram's entire world was swept away in a mire moment of agony.
'And now I'm leading an army full of monsters just like the ones that had killed them.' Ashram thought bitterly. 'I dishonor their memories by doing this.' His face grew dark with shame.
Then he thought of what most of the orcs and other monsters would be doing in the not so distant future and an evil grin came to his lips. Ashram had a scheme in mind to exact his revenge. It would be swift, sweet, and best of all, a brutal revenge. Beld had already approved his plan to use the monsters as bait to lure Valis' main army into a trap. The idea was to draw the Valisians into a nearby valley surrounded by cliffs. Ashram's scouts had located it a few days earlier. When the reports came in he knew it would be prefect for what he had in mind. No other site would serve his purpose so ideally.
Ashram figured most, if not all the monsters, would be slaughtered in the upcoming fight. Their sacrifice would leave the Valis' army sitting ducks to Beld's main force, which was primary made up of dark elves, knights, regular soldiers and mercenaries. Ashram couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride for coming up with such a perfect plan. It would virtually eliminate all of his enemies with one deadly stroke.
It took most of the day, but all was finally ready. Ashram's troops were assembled, supplied, and ready to depart. By this time, it was starting to get dark. Nightfall was close, which was what Ashram wanted. It would be easier to move a large military force discreetly at night. He planned to raid several small towns and destroy a nearby Valisian fort, thus drawing the attention of the Valisian army's vanguard force.
From what Ashram had learned from his spies and read in scouting reports, King Kashue of Flaim was leading Valis' advanced forces. Flaim was a smaller kingdom allied to Valis. Kashue was a skilled warrior that ruled the desert wilds of Lodoss to the north. If he lived up to his reputation, Kashue posed a serious threat; he was perhaps the only man alive who could seriously challenge Ashram's strength and skill with a sword. The idea brought a gleam to Ashram's eyes, he loved challenges, and somehow he knew this one would be well worth the wait.
'I hope I get the chance to see for myself how good this mercenary king is.' Ashram thought as he mounted his black horse and rode to the head of his taskforce. When he arrived at the front, he was met by a male dark elf commander. The dark elf was to take charge of the monsters and attack the villages; he would then rendezvous back with Ashram to set the trap for Kashue and his men. Ashram liked the idea of having the monsters distanced from him; and was more than happy to be rid of them for a time.
"Make sure that none of Valis' scouts make it back to report our position." Ashram ordered. "It could corrupt all of our plans if any one of them gets away. Now go."
"Yes Sir Ashram." The dark elf replied. "By your leave." The dark elf turned and rode off, followed by the hordes of orcs, kobolds, and goblins. Ashram watched the rabble dart away into the underbrush. As soon as they had all disappeared into the forest, he shouted to his troops.
"Let's go!" He motioned his horse forward, but he stopped before it took a single step. His path was being blocked by a small white figure kneeling before him.
Ashram looked down, slightly surprised. Most people would have sense enough not to block the path of a column of troops, especially not a column led by him. He watched the small woman in white curiously, not sure what to expect. Finally, she lifted her head and started speaking.
"Please allow me to accompany you my Lord. I promise I shall serve you well." The female dark elf said softly to him.
Ashram recognized her as the same dark elf from the night before, and then again in the mess tent earlier that same day. He said nothing, in part due to the fact that he was caught off guard by the request. He continued to study her for a moment. She just stared right back at him, unflinchingly.
Then something happened at that moment that no one expected. Ashram smiled at her, though it was ever so slightly. Then he urged his horse to ride around her. She smiled too and rose off her knee. She began to walk beside his mount. No one else had seen their exchange of glances, and though he had said nothing, she took his small grin as a yes to her offer.
During the night Ashram's forces sacked the Valisian fort, just as they had planned. It was a relatively easy task, it took no more than thirty minutes to completely level the castle's front gate and kill most of its occupants. Ashram decided to spare a few of the people they had captured for questioning. Afterwards, he chose to release them in order to draw Kashue to them.
The idea was that the captured soldier's accounts of the attack would cause Kashue to rush in to counterattack. But Ashram was no fool, there was another reason he let them go. It was also because he knew the survivors would spread fear amongst the Valisian ranks. They'd tell tales of the horrid monsters and vicious mercenaries in Ashram's forces.
'Rumors of the blood thirsty Marmo troops crushing everything in sight are good for the cause.' Ashram thought to himself. He knew that psychological warfare was a powerful ally of theirs. Fear and panic could break an enemy line just as well as a heavy cavalry charge.
Ashram decided to remain in the fort for the night. It was a comfortable and secure place to set up base camp. From there, he could issue out orders before making their next move. It was also the most easily defendable stretch of land in the region, which was why the Valisians chose the spot to begin with.
Before long, a dark elf rider entered the fort through the demolished front gate and reported the position and situation of the main body of the monsters' forces, which had separated from them earlier.
Everything was going as planned. The monsters, under the dark elves watchful eyes, were several miles away. The dark elves had raided two towns using the monsters, as they were directed, and were awaiting further instructions. The dark elf knelt in front of Ashram, patiently awaiting his orders.
"What of Kashue's Army?" Ashram questioned the Elf.
"There is no sign of them thus far, sir." The dark elf replied. "But our scouts remain vigilant, keeping a close lookout for them." Ashram momentarily studied a small map of the area that was outstretched on a nearby table. He motioned for the elf to rise and come over to him. He outstretched his hand, directing the elves attention to a spot on the map.
"Have the monsters destroy this town here to the north, just before daybreak. Then send out three more scouting parties. I must know Kashue's position before we can make our next move." Ashram's cold, impassive voice hid his true dismay of having to destroy another village, but he knew the mission hung in the balance and he had his orders. He had to get Kashue to come to him, everything relied on it.
"Yes, of course, my Lord." The dark elf bowed his head in respect, exiting the room.
Ashram found no pleasure attacking defenseless peasants, but there was little choice in the matter. It's what Beld would tell him to do, and he knew it was necessary to gain the advantage they needed in the coming battle. Attacking civilians would send the Valisian military running right into their hands.
"It seems our victory has to be paved in the ashes of the innocent. Why is that?" Ashram whispered to himself as he sat down, he was conflicted about the decision.
"Because that is the way of the world, Sir Ashram." An echoing voice suddenly answered his question, seemingly from nowhere. A slight gust of wind filled the room, followed by a grey mist. In a corner of the room, Ashram could see a faint purple light begin to get brighter and brighter, until a female form could be seen at its center.
"Karla…" Ashram said plainly, not bothering to stand to greet the her. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Hello Sir Ashram." Karla said in her usual taunting voice.
Karla was a powerful sorceress who had appeared almost at the exact moment Beld had decided to begin his campaign to conquer Lodoss. She had assisted in the winning of several battles, one of which Ashram himself had participated in. Her powers were considerable. She seemed to be a great asset to them, but he had never trusted her motives. It all seemed too convenient for his liking. He was certain she had an agenda of her own. He had warned Beld about her, but for some reason he continued to allow her to meddle in their affairs unhindered.
Even Karla's appearance made Ashram distrustful of her. He recalled an old proverb, something to the effect of the darkest demons always coming in the form of a beautiful woman. Perhaps the feature that made Ashram the most uneasy about Karla was her eyes. They were purple, and he could swear they were glowing ever so slightly in the dark. Furthermore, her eyes didn't seem right with the rest of her body. Something was just off, like it didn't belong there. Her voice also had an odd echo to it whenever she spoke, it was other-worldly.
Yet another thing that bothered him about her was the golden circlet she always wore on her head. It bore what looked like red eyes that never closed. They always appeared to be staring at him. It made him uncomfortable to look at it. The craftsmanship of the metal itself was unusual, it just gave the impression of aggression. The circlet actually looked alive at times, everything about it seemed unnatural.
Karla had black hair that was styled up and kept in place by a golden barrette. She wore long gold earrings that hung down from her ears, and light purple lipstick. She wore a necklace that was segmented into sections of purple gems and a dark purple cape that covered most of her body. He could also see that under the cape she was wearing a light purple gown.
"What do you want with me now witch?" Ashram asked as he sat there, intentionally not looking at her. He rather looked back towards his maps ignoring her.
"I've only come to advise you silly boy." She retorted. "It seems this war with Valis is about to come to an end very soon, you have my congratulations." Ashram didn't look at all stirred by her words. Karla could see her ill-fated attempt at flattery wasn't getting her anywhere, so she moved on to a different tactic. "What do you think Emperor Beld plans to do after your usefulness to him has ended?" She said with an openly sinister smile on her face.
"What are you trying to get at?" Ashram finally looked up at her, understanding all to well what she was implying.
"Do you really think he will keep you around when your little war is over?" She asked. "Someone like you? A young, charismatic leader who holds such great sway with the Imperial Army? Do you think he will tolerate someone who could potentially take his crown from him? I think not, Sir Knight. A wise man like Beld, who has no blood heir, knows when a threat is on his doorstep." She paused to let Ashram consider it for a moment, and then added. "Join me against him Black Knight and I promise you will rule all Lodoss." She reached her hand out to him.
"Ha! Beld is my master witch, and more importantly, he is like a father to me." Ashram ignored her outreached hand. "If you think you can make me so easily turn my back on him, then you're a pitiful fool, a deluded idiot! He took me in when I had nothing to call my own and had nowhere else to turn. He raised me as if I were his own blood." Ashram's eyes burned as he glared at Karla. "Furthermore, I am completely loyal to him and am willing to die for him should he ask it of me. He well knows that to be true!" Ashram almost shouted the last part as he stood up and took a step towards Karla.
"Really…?" Karla started to move backwards, just staying out of Ashram's reach. The lower half of her body turned into mist as she continued backwards. "We shall soon see about that, Sir Ashram." Karla laughed as she disappeared into the shadows. From the waist down she passed through an end table, but her arm hit and knocked over a vase during her retreat. Ashram simply watched her vanish from his sight, but his hand was gripping his sword's hilt.
"Damn that witch!" Ashram cursed out loud. He had never, not even for a moment, trusted Karla. Now all his suspicions about her were confirmed. 'She was never really on our side at all. She's had her own agenda all along. I should have known.' He wondered if she could possibly be working for King Fahn of Valis. Somehow he didn't think so… but it wasn't impossible.
Someone suddenly opened the door to Ashram's temporary chambers behind him, interrupting his apprehensive thoughts. He drew his sword, and turned around, ready to face the second intruder. But in the narrow stone doorway stood the female dark elf; her sword was drawn as well.
"Are you alright Lord Ashram?" She asked earnestly. "I heard you shout and a crash!" She said as she rapidly scanned the room, ready to pounce on any would-be attackers.
"All is well… you can put your weapon away." Ashram said calmly as he sat once again, taking in a deep breath.
"Yes, my Lord." The dark elf female obeyed, obviously a little confused. She stood there for a moment, not knowing what else to do except stare at him. Ashram glanced up and noticed her still there.
"You must have some good hearing to have heard my shouting all the way from the courtyard." Ashram observed, addressing her. He had seen her there with the other dark elves just before he had spoken to the scout. "And also mighty swift legs too." He added. "That's quite a distance to come in such a short amount of time, don't you think?" He said in an almost accusing voice. "It's probably impossible in fact."
"Actually, I was..." She began to explain.
"...right outside my door?" Ashram finished her sentence before she had the chance to. "Spying on me?" He paused as he raised an eyebrow. "What is your name? I've seen you several times before now, but I never caught your name."
"My name is Pirotess, my Lord." She answered, apparently not intimidated by him, which was surprising to Ashram. A person in her position should be worried about being charged with spying or treason, she was not. Ashram quickly decided she probably wasn't a spy, but he was still suspicious of her.
"In the future, Pirotess, it would be unwise to spy on me, you are dismissed." He watched her slightly bow and leave, his sharp cold eyes focused on her until she was gone. 'She always seems to be around lately, just what is it she wants?' Ashram asked himself. 'No matter, if she was sent by someone to spy on me, I will find out sooner or later.'
By that time, it was getting late and Ashram was tired. 'Tomorrow is going to be a big day, I'll need my rest.' He puffed out a strong breath of air and blew out the candle on his table.