The temperature was hot. Too hot to be fooling around in ruins. The air
felt thick with humidity. Muggy. It soaked through their armor and lodged
itself in their hearts. It was going to be a long day.
"Move yer bones!" the commander shouted to the stragglers. "We near the site! I want all hands to get to work as soon as we arrive!"
"Aye, sir!" they responded in unison. Their voices were weak from dehydration.
"Ach," one of the soldiers in the back muttered. "What business have we in this place."
"Lower your voice!" the knight beside him whispered. "Captain Falsom does not abide by whiners!"
"Could we be anything else? On a day like today? In a place like this? Lea Monde is destroyed. There be no need for this mission."
"That is where you are wrong. The vast treasures in Lea Monde outnumbered even those of the Cardinal and Duke combined, and that was before it fell asunder in the summer of last year. Just imagine what we might find, now that the spirits have been dispersed?"
"Ah, and how know ye that the 'spirits' no longer remain," another soldier chimed in. "That city has been cursed for longer than time can remember. Surely evil such as that cannot be so easily undone."
"Quiet, the lot of you!" Captain Falsom hollered, moving back from the lead of the company and to where they had been conversing. "Ours is not to question! Ours is but to serve! And if that be not enough for ye...," he drew his sword from his belt, pointing it at the neck of one of the soldiers who had been talking, "...the steel of the Crimson Blades should. The Cardinal has no patience for malcontents."
The company stopped in its tracks for a moment. The captain stared each of them down, his eyes looking nearly insane for just the briefest of seconds. "Well...," he eventually spat out. "Get thee moving!" They quickly picked up the march again, none saying a word for the rest of the trip.
When they finally reached their destination, they had further reason to stay silent. Even now, broken into a million pieces of rock and ash, Lea Monde was still a beautiful sight. And rising above it all, somehow defying time and God, the ancient cathedral still stood. The top was missing, almost looking as though it had been picked away by a giant hand. But still it stood, its majestic size and grandeur enduring throughout even the city's final hours.
The troops continued on towards the riverside. The previously impassable waters had calmed in the past year, so travel by boat would have been possible. But this was unnecessary. One of the many towers of the city had collapsed across to the other side of the shore, forming a crude bridge. It seemed to echo the theme of everything there. An ending for one story is only the first chapter for another.
When they had crossed into the city proper, the captain signaled for them to gather around him. "You two," he said, pointing towards a pair of soldiers, "clear that rubble away and get to work. There was a workshop around here before. Keep your eyes open for any weapons or jewels that might be laying about."
"Aye, sir!" they said and ran off.
"You!" He pointed at another soldier. "Go back to the shore with him," he pointed at another member of the group. "Set up camp and begin patrolling the perimeter."
"Aye, sir!" They hurried back to the other side of the water to set about their appointed tasks.
"And as for you three," he said to the remaining troopers. "You come with me." They saluted their commanding officer and followed him into the city. They walked for what seemed like hours, passing by crumbled houses and shops, crossing over dilapitated bridges, and venturing through an eerie forest where only snowflies lit the way. A general uneasiness slowly crept over each of them as they progressed, and only the captain remained fully upright as they ventured further and further into the rotting corpse of Lea Monde.
Eventually they reached another district of town. The walls and rocks had an eerie blue tint to them. Whether this was maegic or some trickery of the sunlight was anyone's guess. The captain halted. "Alright," he said. He unstrapped his helmet and tossed it onto the ground. "Remove your armor, all of ye."
"But...Captain...," one of the said, hesitant.
"But what?" Falsom said, turning around as he unhooked his breastplate. "What be you scared of? The monsters of rumor are long gone. All that remains here are shadows in the dark."
The soldiers looked back and forth at one another for a moment, then at the captain. Eventually they followed his lead and began to discard their metallic clothing. "The armor would only get in the way," the captain said. He picked up a torch from a bag he had set on the ground and lit it. "We need to be light of foot where we be heading." He then proceeded down a nearby stairway, his form seemingly absorbed by the darkness as the stepped out of view.
"Our Father that art in Heaven...," one soldier mumbled.
"Enough of that," another said, smacking the praying soldier on the back of the head. They each took a torch from their own supplies and followed their commander.
If the air outside had been thick, the atmosphere within the catacombs below was downright oppressive. The smell of death and decay permeated the group's senses as they crept down the broken stairway and into the dark belly of the city. "Captain...," one of the soldiers said, finally working up the courage to speak. His voice boomed in the hallway, reverberating off the walls and sounding as though he had yelled, though he had only spoke in a whisper.
"Aye?" Falsom said, turning around.
"Maybe...maybe we should head back..."
"Ach...," Falsom muttered. "Look at yer'selves! We be Crimson Blades! The bravest men this country has to offer! Now is not the time for yellow behaviour!"
They all stood, not saying a word. The silence was louder than the speaking, it seemed. Eventually the captain grunted, turned around, and continued on.
Down, down, down, they went. When one stairway ended they found another and went even further. A sense of evil pervaded the ruins. The soldiers became aware that they most likely were walking into their own graves.
An eternity passed, and finally...the captain stopped. "Here...," he whispered. They all stepped into the room with him and looked around. Massive pillars stood from the floor to the ceiling, well, some of them at least. Giant blocks of stone had fallen from most of them, yet still they remained standing. Much of Lea Monde had appeared to be this way. Broken, but still servicable.
"This...," the captain said, walking into the center of the room and climbing a mound of debris, "this be the storeroom for Lea Monde's gold. This is what we truly came here for." He looked down at his subordinates. "Gather as much as you can. Don't stop digging until you can carry no more. We shall plunder this city's riches for ourselves, and the Cardinal shall be none the wiser."
"Sir?" one of the sodliers asked, confused.
"Aye," Falsom nodded. "We shall keep this gold, and return to the captial with whatever other treasure we may find. That shall be his, but THIS....this is for us. For me...and for you." He held his free hand out towards the others.
"Captain..." another soldier whispered.
"Ye have always been loyal," Falsom replied. "Not once has that bastard shown us one ounce of respect! This is for all of the unpaid services. All of the holidays we were called away to serve as his lapdogs, the needs of our own families ignored. This is for the right to live as we see fit."
The soldiers looked at each other, then at the captain. They nodded and began to work. Hours passed. They dug well into the night, tossing smsall boulders aside and finding an unimaginable amount of gold. They worked diligintly and patiently. There was simply so much gold lying underneath the rubble, they was no need to argue over who got what. They agreed to take turns hauling it to the surface. As one of them reached the point where he could carry no more, he would return to the outside, where they had left their armor and supplies.
Eventually it was down to just the captain and one soldier. They were both filling their pockets with coins and tossing the nuggets aside. Two large piles of these had formed near the stairs. Those they would carry up top. The captain had said that afterward, once they all had achieved their fill, they would put the gold in their supply sacks and leave the city. They would be able to go back home, deposit their findings, and return to Lea Monde before the next morning's sunrise. They would then stay on, contuing to excavate for three more days. No more gold, simply whatever odds and ends they might find within the ruins of the surface. Those they would take back to the Cardinal. Once they had been dismissed from service, they would gather their families and leave their separate ways, never to serve as another man again.
The captain dropped one final heap of gold onto his pile. "I be ready..." he said, walking over to the last soldier. "What say you?"
"Ach, there be something besides gold underneath this pile," the soldier said, pulling another rock away.
"Allow me to lend a hand," the captain said. He picked up a rock and began to help with the digging. Soon they began to hear moans. As though someone, or something, was trapped beneath.
"Help...me..." the voiced whispered. "Help...me...please..."
"Someone...alive? In here?" the captain stammered. They doubled their efforts and soon had the pile cleared away. At the bottom was a man, broken, wounded, but still breathing. He wore the robes of the Church.
"How long have ye been here?" the soldier asked the man. "Could ye have been in Guildenstern's party?"
"Nonesense," the captain scoffed. "That was over a year ago. No one could survive under all of this for that long, without food, or water. Not even by the grace of God."
"God..." the wounded man muttered. "I once thought I knew 'God'. Now...I know better."
"Captain!" the soldier exclaimed. "This...I believe this man be Father Grissom!"
"Impossible!" the captain retored. "The rumors say he died, along with the Tieger and the rest. 'Tis simply a wandering fool who ventured too far into the ruins."
"Rumors...?" the man whispered. He stood up, his strength apparantly restored. CRACK. The soldier fell limp, the stranger's hand on his neck. "The rumors...are true..."
"Wuh...what...what's..." the Captain said, stepping backwards in fear.
"Come..." Grissom said. "Join us...."
The captain's scream tore all the way to the surface. Those who had gone on the expedition swear it could be heard clear across the river. But a mere scream is powerless...against the shadows in the Dark.
"Move yer bones!" the commander shouted to the stragglers. "We near the site! I want all hands to get to work as soon as we arrive!"
"Aye, sir!" they responded in unison. Their voices were weak from dehydration.
"Ach," one of the soldiers in the back muttered. "What business have we in this place."
"Lower your voice!" the knight beside him whispered. "Captain Falsom does not abide by whiners!"
"Could we be anything else? On a day like today? In a place like this? Lea Monde is destroyed. There be no need for this mission."
"That is where you are wrong. The vast treasures in Lea Monde outnumbered even those of the Cardinal and Duke combined, and that was before it fell asunder in the summer of last year. Just imagine what we might find, now that the spirits have been dispersed?"
"Ah, and how know ye that the 'spirits' no longer remain," another soldier chimed in. "That city has been cursed for longer than time can remember. Surely evil such as that cannot be so easily undone."
"Quiet, the lot of you!" Captain Falsom hollered, moving back from the lead of the company and to where they had been conversing. "Ours is not to question! Ours is but to serve! And if that be not enough for ye...," he drew his sword from his belt, pointing it at the neck of one of the soldiers who had been talking, "...the steel of the Crimson Blades should. The Cardinal has no patience for malcontents."
The company stopped in its tracks for a moment. The captain stared each of them down, his eyes looking nearly insane for just the briefest of seconds. "Well...," he eventually spat out. "Get thee moving!" They quickly picked up the march again, none saying a word for the rest of the trip.
When they finally reached their destination, they had further reason to stay silent. Even now, broken into a million pieces of rock and ash, Lea Monde was still a beautiful sight. And rising above it all, somehow defying time and God, the ancient cathedral still stood. The top was missing, almost looking as though it had been picked away by a giant hand. But still it stood, its majestic size and grandeur enduring throughout even the city's final hours.
The troops continued on towards the riverside. The previously impassable waters had calmed in the past year, so travel by boat would have been possible. But this was unnecessary. One of the many towers of the city had collapsed across to the other side of the shore, forming a crude bridge. It seemed to echo the theme of everything there. An ending for one story is only the first chapter for another.
When they had crossed into the city proper, the captain signaled for them to gather around him. "You two," he said, pointing towards a pair of soldiers, "clear that rubble away and get to work. There was a workshop around here before. Keep your eyes open for any weapons or jewels that might be laying about."
"Aye, sir!" they said and ran off.
"You!" He pointed at another soldier. "Go back to the shore with him," he pointed at another member of the group. "Set up camp and begin patrolling the perimeter."
"Aye, sir!" They hurried back to the other side of the water to set about their appointed tasks.
"And as for you three," he said to the remaining troopers. "You come with me." They saluted their commanding officer and followed him into the city. They walked for what seemed like hours, passing by crumbled houses and shops, crossing over dilapitated bridges, and venturing through an eerie forest where only snowflies lit the way. A general uneasiness slowly crept over each of them as they progressed, and only the captain remained fully upright as they ventured further and further into the rotting corpse of Lea Monde.
Eventually they reached another district of town. The walls and rocks had an eerie blue tint to them. Whether this was maegic or some trickery of the sunlight was anyone's guess. The captain halted. "Alright," he said. He unstrapped his helmet and tossed it onto the ground. "Remove your armor, all of ye."
"But...Captain...," one of the said, hesitant.
"But what?" Falsom said, turning around as he unhooked his breastplate. "What be you scared of? The monsters of rumor are long gone. All that remains here are shadows in the dark."
The soldiers looked back and forth at one another for a moment, then at the captain. Eventually they followed his lead and began to discard their metallic clothing. "The armor would only get in the way," the captain said. He picked up a torch from a bag he had set on the ground and lit it. "We need to be light of foot where we be heading." He then proceeded down a nearby stairway, his form seemingly absorbed by the darkness as the stepped out of view.
"Our Father that art in Heaven...," one soldier mumbled.
"Enough of that," another said, smacking the praying soldier on the back of the head. They each took a torch from their own supplies and followed their commander.
If the air outside had been thick, the atmosphere within the catacombs below was downright oppressive. The smell of death and decay permeated the group's senses as they crept down the broken stairway and into the dark belly of the city. "Captain...," one of the soldiers said, finally working up the courage to speak. His voice boomed in the hallway, reverberating off the walls and sounding as though he had yelled, though he had only spoke in a whisper.
"Aye?" Falsom said, turning around.
"Maybe...maybe we should head back..."
"Ach...," Falsom muttered. "Look at yer'selves! We be Crimson Blades! The bravest men this country has to offer! Now is not the time for yellow behaviour!"
They all stood, not saying a word. The silence was louder than the speaking, it seemed. Eventually the captain grunted, turned around, and continued on.
Down, down, down, they went. When one stairway ended they found another and went even further. A sense of evil pervaded the ruins. The soldiers became aware that they most likely were walking into their own graves.
An eternity passed, and finally...the captain stopped. "Here...," he whispered. They all stepped into the room with him and looked around. Massive pillars stood from the floor to the ceiling, well, some of them at least. Giant blocks of stone had fallen from most of them, yet still they remained standing. Much of Lea Monde had appeared to be this way. Broken, but still servicable.
"This...," the captain said, walking into the center of the room and climbing a mound of debris, "this be the storeroom for Lea Monde's gold. This is what we truly came here for." He looked down at his subordinates. "Gather as much as you can. Don't stop digging until you can carry no more. We shall plunder this city's riches for ourselves, and the Cardinal shall be none the wiser."
"Sir?" one of the sodliers asked, confused.
"Aye," Falsom nodded. "We shall keep this gold, and return to the captial with whatever other treasure we may find. That shall be his, but THIS....this is for us. For me...and for you." He held his free hand out towards the others.
"Captain..." another soldier whispered.
"Ye have always been loyal," Falsom replied. "Not once has that bastard shown us one ounce of respect! This is for all of the unpaid services. All of the holidays we were called away to serve as his lapdogs, the needs of our own families ignored. This is for the right to live as we see fit."
The soldiers looked at each other, then at the captain. They nodded and began to work. Hours passed. They dug well into the night, tossing smsall boulders aside and finding an unimaginable amount of gold. They worked diligintly and patiently. There was simply so much gold lying underneath the rubble, they was no need to argue over who got what. They agreed to take turns hauling it to the surface. As one of them reached the point where he could carry no more, he would return to the outside, where they had left their armor and supplies.
Eventually it was down to just the captain and one soldier. They were both filling their pockets with coins and tossing the nuggets aside. Two large piles of these had formed near the stairs. Those they would carry up top. The captain had said that afterward, once they all had achieved their fill, they would put the gold in their supply sacks and leave the city. They would be able to go back home, deposit their findings, and return to Lea Monde before the next morning's sunrise. They would then stay on, contuing to excavate for three more days. No more gold, simply whatever odds and ends they might find within the ruins of the surface. Those they would take back to the Cardinal. Once they had been dismissed from service, they would gather their families and leave their separate ways, never to serve as another man again.
The captain dropped one final heap of gold onto his pile. "I be ready..." he said, walking over to the last soldier. "What say you?"
"Ach, there be something besides gold underneath this pile," the soldier said, pulling another rock away.
"Allow me to lend a hand," the captain said. He picked up a rock and began to help with the digging. Soon they began to hear moans. As though someone, or something, was trapped beneath.
"Help...me..." the voiced whispered. "Help...me...please..."
"Someone...alive? In here?" the captain stammered. They doubled their efforts and soon had the pile cleared away. At the bottom was a man, broken, wounded, but still breathing. He wore the robes of the Church.
"How long have ye been here?" the soldier asked the man. "Could ye have been in Guildenstern's party?"
"Nonesense," the captain scoffed. "That was over a year ago. No one could survive under all of this for that long, without food, or water. Not even by the grace of God."
"God..." the wounded man muttered. "I once thought I knew 'God'. Now...I know better."
"Captain!" the soldier exclaimed. "This...I believe this man be Father Grissom!"
"Impossible!" the captain retored. "The rumors say he died, along with the Tieger and the rest. 'Tis simply a wandering fool who ventured too far into the ruins."
"Rumors...?" the man whispered. He stood up, his strength apparantly restored. CRACK. The soldier fell limp, the stranger's hand on his neck. "The rumors...are true..."
"Wuh...what...what's..." the Captain said, stepping backwards in fear.
"Come..." Grissom said. "Join us...."
The captain's scream tore all the way to the surface. Those who had gone on the expedition swear it could be heard clear across the river. But a mere scream is powerless...against the shadows in the Dark.
