Events Unfolding

Updated November 2017

Maddie Briar screamed.

Necrotic energies whipped against her, ripping through her spirit, leaving behind the memory of pain. Leaving behind power. She stood up against it, trembling under the assault, but not falling.

She stood upon a pillar in a chamber of bone. The energies emanated from the eye sockets of 4, large skulls high above. They looked down on the pillar, somehow suggesting scorn. The room seemed to whisper, a soft sound that said 'step off, end the pain'.

Maddie stood where she was.

In a shadowy alcove, the Faded Maiden of the Tomb watched. "So noble," she whispered.

"A masochist is more likely," Nihilistic Courtesan said.

Courtesan was an emaciated young woman, as if long starved or sick. Fine, long blonde hair hung down to her shoulders, curling slightly. Her blue eyes looked large in her starved face. She was beautiful, in the way that almost dead could be attractive. She wore a Soulsteel breastplate over a black blouse, with a black skirt, puffed out by yards and yards of black petticoats. On her left wrist was a soul steel bracer, on her right hand was a delicate glove of Soulsteel chain.

"You don't understand the dead," the Faded Maiden said, shaking her head.

"I don't need to nor care to understand them." Courtesan held her head up high.

"Fool."

Courtesan laughed loudly.

The Faded Maiden stared angrily at her for a moment then returned her gaze to the still screaming Maddie Briar. "She has a strength you will never understand. A purity she has found in death."

"Perhaps you'll be blessed to have that purity," Courtesan said, her tone rich in sarcasm.

"I can only hope." She seemed to have missed the sarcasm in the tone, or chosen to ignore it.

"Why do we waste our time here?" Courtesan held herself stiffly.

"I wish to watch."

"We have more important things to do," Courtesan said.

"Others will do those things, your skills are not needed."

"I have no interest in this."

"Then go."

Courtesan glowered at the Faded Maiden.

"Oh, I forgot." She did not look at Courtesan, and her voice rung with false sympathy, "our Lord has told you to remain here until I say you may go."

Courtesan hissed angrily between her teeth.

"He must believe that you will benefit from this." The Faded Maiden smiled as Maddie screamed again, her voice filling the chamber with its pain. "She is so magnificent."

"I don't care. She will be sent off to find that damn child and has nothing to do with us. Her screaming gives me a headache, and the entire room makes me ill. I wish to go."

"And I wish you to stay."

"You don't know how much I hate you," Courtesan said.

"Your hate is as impotent as you are."

Courtesan turned her back on the Faded Maiden and starred at the bone walls, trying to block out the sound of the screams and the other Abyssal's smug presence.

Ivory looked at the horse that Heron had bought her. It was a thin-legged, chestnut mare, smaller than Heron's Dragon. It was, she thought, a gorgeous horse, and that bothered her. "She looks too delicate like she's made of glass," she said.

"She's a racehorse," Heron told her. "Very fast." He smiled and patted the horse across its withers.

"But," Ivory frowned as she tried to put her concerns into words, "what good is a racehorse?"

"Don't listen to her girl," Heron said to the horse, "she's still a child, so forgive her."

"Don't speak to the horse as if I am not here," Ivory said, her voice raising a little.

Heron laughed. "Don't worry, this is the best horse for this situation. Trust me."

"But…"

"Are you an expert on horses?"

Ivory frowned, as if angry at something, then said, a certain sullenness in her tone, "No, but…"

"I am, and this is the best choice we have. Now help me saddle her up."

Ivory sighed and then nodded. "Okay." If Heron thought it was the best choice, she would have to assume that he was right. And the horse was beautiful.

"What will you name her?" Heron asked as they put the saddle on the horse.

"I'm not sure yet," Ivory said. She had thought of some names, but they all seemed silly, juvenile. None of which she wanted to say aloud to Heron.

"Tighten that strap," Heron told her.

She did as she was told.

Once the mare was ready, Heron showed her how to properly arrange her gear. A pair of saddlebags-stuffed full of clothing, toiletries, and a few other things, all of which Heron had bought for her-went over the horse's hindquarters. Her swords, in newly made sheaths of red lacquered wood, were set on either side of the saddle, allowing for easy access and a quick draw if needed.

"There we go," Heron said. "Ready?"

Ivory looked up at the mare, which suddenly seemed very tall, and then nodded. "Yes."

Heron gave her a hand mounting the horse. She had been taught to ride, but that had been on some well-mannered ponies. Sitting on the back of a horse, to Ivory, was very different, and a little intimidating. It was a long way down from the saddle.

Heron touched the neck of the mare and said, "Run well." Then he quickly pulled himself up onto Dragon's back and said, "Let's go."

The Mare, with no direction from Ivory, started after Dragon, and Ivory grabbed a tight hold of the saddle horn. She looked around for Hu but did not see him. That did not surprise her too much; the tiger had told her that he would keep up, not that she would see him.

As soon as they left the city, Heron urged Dragon into a run. Ivory released the saddle horn, grabbed her horse's reins, and touched the mare's side with her heels. The mare started forward, flowing into its run, her hooves pounding on the road as she chased after Dragon.

Both horses ran as if they were in a race, the road beneath flying by. Ivory clung tightly to the saddle, terrified by the speed. When she could spare glances ahead of her, she saw that Heron looked like he was enjoying the breakneck pace.

Sometimes she thought she spotted Hu, off to the side of the road, matching their pace.

Ivory was not the only one who was not entirely pleased with the speed of the horses. More than once some person on the road cursed loudly as the horses went thundering by, spooking oxen and causing people to leap off the road.

Long after she was sure that the horses would grow tired they were still running, and she realised that Heron had done something to them, and remembered how he had touched the mare's neck. It seemed that as long as the mare's stamina was under the effect of whatever charm he had used, the horse was probably going to run flat out.

And that meant the racehorse was the best choice.

They had left Great Forks late in the morning. It was nearing noon when Heron slowed Dragon to a trot. Ivory copied him, but the mare fought her a little, apparently still wanting to run. She passed Heron and rode down the road some distance before she finally slowed her horse and turned it around.

"Good riding," Heron said as she neared him.

"The horse did most of the work," Ivory told him as she turned the mare again and rode beside Heron.

"Thought of a name yet?"

"Humming Bird," Ivory said.

"Good name." He reached out and touched Humming Bird's neck. "That's enough rest. We have a lot of distance to cover." He urged Dragon into a run.

Humming Bird was already galloping when Ivory flicked her reins.

"When did Heron Jade Eyes leave?" Anzar asked, careful to keep his tone level and polite. The people of Great Forks did not show proper respect to their betters and were too easy to offend.

The stable master looked across the city at the setting sun, scratched his chin, and said, "This morning, a couple of hours before noon. She and the girl left in a bit of a rush."

"Girl?"

"Had a girl with her, didn't see her much. Wore a big cloak."

Anzar shook his head, whoever this girl was, she was not significant. "How far ahead of me do you think he is?"

"Well," the man smiled, and reached for his pipe, "that's the thing, you see."

Anzar nodded, smiled, and thought, hurry up with your story you fool mortal.

The stable master began to pack the bowl of his pipe with a thinly cut marijuana leaf, pushing it in with this thumb. "Heron's horse is a noble beast, southern blood, perhaps the blood of gods in its veins."

Anzar pasted a smile on his face. The man was boring him with minutia and angering him with blasphemy, and all he could do was smile. He hated these heathen lands.

"Fine horse," he finished packing his pipe and put the stem in his mouth. "Kind of horse that could run all day, and then do it the next day." He pulled out a sulphur and snapped it against the sole of his boot, causing it to flare up. He lit the pipe, puffing on it until the leaf was burning. "The horse he bought for the girl though, a racehorse. Got some good blood in it, but not much good for the long distance. Will tire out fast, probably have bruised hooves after a day." He shook his head and blew out a cloud of blue smoke. "Nope, not a good horse for any sort of long trip. Can't tell you 'xactly where they went, but I can tell you they won't be far. That's a fact."

"Thank you," Anzar said, his tone clipped.

"You're welcome," he said around the stem. "Care for a some?" He tapped the bowl of his pipe.

"No. The Dragons Bless you."

"That'd be nice, yeah."

Anzar turned and walked away. The stable master could have been more informative, but at least he had something. And the gambler could not have gotten that far ahead of him. Unless he left the other rider behind…

He shook his head to clear it of such unproductive thoughts. It would not help him.

There was an Inn just outside the city walls, Anzar had chosen it as a base of operations. He did not like being in a city ruled openly by gods. It offended him. If there had been a better place to set up, he would have left Great Forks behind.

Luca, an unenlightened monk who had let his hair grow to better blend in, was waiting in the small common room. Anzar took a seat across from him, waving for him to sit down as he started to stand. "Any news?" he demanded.

"Nothing yet."

"They left this morning, a pair of horses."

"A pair of horses?"

"Yes." Anzar leaned forward. "Why?"

"Hemhan said he had heard some people talking about a pair of riders, horses running like mad, on the road that leads to Marita."

"Where is Hemhan now?"

"He's still talking to people, listening to rumours."

Anzar began to tap his fingers on the table. "They may not be that far ahead."

"Sir?"

Anzar waved him off as he thought about it. "Is anyone else back yet?"

"No sir."

"I'll wait until I hear everyone's report, but if nothing else comes in, Tomorrow we ride towards Marita."

"Yes sir."

Temal Blue Sky stood upon a rocky precipice, high up on the slope of the mountain. He held his arms out to his side, his toes on the very edge, and he smiled into the biting wind. Short, thin, he wore loose pants and was bare-chested. He had short, blonde hair and blue eyes, with the pale skin of a northerner.

With a laugh, he launched himself into the air, like a high diver. He arced out over the rock, then folded into a headfirst dive, passing the sheer mountain wall.

A flash of colour in the light of the setting sun, a giant hawk matched his dive, spinning gently around him. Laughing, Temal reached out and grasped the hawk's riding harness, swinging himself carefully into position. Even as he did so, the large bird of prey began to pull out of its dive. It swept several feet above the rocky ground, then out, over the edge of mount Metagalpa.

Riding confidently on the back of his hawk Temal laughed as the hawk flipped almost upside down, going into a steep bank that took it beneath the mountain. Lower and lower they flew, closing on the ground. The hawk swept a hundred feet above the rocky, mountainous terrain as Temal scanned the rocky field. The sun would fully set soon, and he would have to return to the mountain.

For the moment he enjoyed the freedom of flight.

Then he saw something.

He leapt from his hawk's back and plummeted towards the ground. As he fell, the wind rose up around him, slowing his fall, and he touched down gently on the rocky surface.

The smell hit him first, and he nearly gagged. From his belt he pulled a pair of blue jade chakram, tapping them together as he moved forward. The chakram began to glow, providing him with light as the sun set. Above him, he heard the scream of his hawk, and he waved it off, wanting the bird to stay in the air.

The zombie shuffled out from behind a boulder, stumbling on feet that were little more than rotten meat and broken bone. It groaned through a mouth of black teeth and moved towards him.

Temal's lip twitched into a grimace of distaste, and he snapped out one of the chakrams out, generating a shockwave of air that knocked the zombie back, tearing off one of its arms. Temal repeated the attack, battering the zombie with gusts of wind, smashing it against the boulder.

The animated corpse did not last long.

He leapt over the zombie's broken remains and up onto the boulder. From his high perch, with the light of his chakram, he looked about, seeking out other threats. He saw nothing but the broken rocks and shale of the mountain.

He jumped from the boulder and moved out onto a relatively flat piece of ground. He whistled piercingly and called, "Silk Feathers!"

The hawk dove down and skimmed over the flat ground, towards Temal. Temal began to run, tucking the chakram into his belt, was sprinting as Silk Feathers passed by him. He leapt up, grabbing the harness, mounting the hawk gracefully. Silk Feathers pumped his wings, driving up into the sky.

Temal scanned the darkened ground one last time before Silk Feathers began to rapidly climb. Soon they would be home.

Had Temal been looking down he would not have seen the figure creeping towards the zombie's remains. Even Silk Feathers, with his superior vision, would not have seen anything, for it was clothed in tight, dark clothing, and its skin covered in small, black feathers.

Reaching the broken body, its eyes wide, vision perfect in the dark, it looked at the broken form. There was no animating force left in the zombie, it was nothing but a rotting corpse.

Turning over the figure raised a fist at the dark bulk of the mountain overhead. "You will be destroyed raiders," it hissed.