"And how did Overlord Iye die?" Crimson pressed, eyeing the large black
jackdaw beadilly. The bird nestled further into his comfortable position on
the high red sandstone in the west tower.
He then launched into in curious jackdaw speech, "Och, naw, Sir Crimson,
Iye doied a shurt death, 'ee did, shur enough, laddie. Impaled on a sword,
'ee was." It took a moment for Crimson to mentally decode the cracked Irish-
like squawk.
"By whose sword?"
"Mmmm.pretty lassie dressed in black, och yah, I remember, sah. Tall
lassie, black cloak, long shiny sword." The big bird's eyes glittered, and
a thick, python-like red purplish tongue slid along the edge of the
pointed, black beak. "Shiny." It echoed, its eyes glazing, thinking of the
tantalizing object. Crimson broke through his thoughts instantly with his
sharp, annoyed voice.
"Tell me about the girl."
"The lassie?"
Crimson only fixed the large jackdaw with an intense stare, black eye
locking black eye.
"Och, the lassie. Like I said, maid dreesed in black, green fringes."
"Did she get away? Was there anyone else?"
"Mmmm.yes, och yes, but they was all slain. Bodies lying everywhere."
"Did she get away?" Repeated Crimson, his eyes radiating almost visible
energy.
"No. Iye's weird red thing killee the lassie."
Crimson thought for a moment, then nodded. "The ancient bloodacid curse. Mm-
so.the Talquil is gone."
"Shiny." Grall's eyes were glazed again, and his whole body shivered with
umspeakable pleasure.
"I have no idea why Iye puts up with such a damn stupid bird. Get out of
here, idiotic featherbag- A Charrap will feed you in the gatehouse. I have
no need for you." Crimson stared at Grall, who didn't move, his lithe form
still swaying slightly. "Go!" He snarled, his finger pointing at the bird's
head. A jet of red light blasted from the tip, and Grall was sent head-over
talon out of the window, where he recovered with a panicked squawk, righted
himself in mid air, and winged off towards the gatehouse. But Crimson
hadn't had the purpose or interest to follow the bird's decent to the
gatehouse down in the grounds. Crimson had work to do.
As the band of elves traveled monotonously across the barren wastelands of the Dead Marshes, trouble was brewing behind Crimson's back. Crimson knew from the start Lask Frildur was a smart and quick-witted Charrap. Crimson also knew all too well Frildur had a knack for keeping his eyes and ears sharpened to a point. It didn't surprise the Charrap when word swept down from the west tower Overlord Iye was dead. Even if Frildur was a head shorter than the average Charrap, thin, and looked more like a half-starved rat than a Charrap of former Overlord Iye's mighty Chareuset Army. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in brainpower and acute senses. Frildur had been slowly but surely pacing along the west battlements of Iye Castle, directly in the shadow of the west tower. Grall, like most jackdaws of his girth, possessed a loud, sharp tone, that could easily have been heard from the gatehouse if a beast stopped long enough, and listened hard enough. Frildur had trained himself from the beginning to tread light- footed- it never hurt a beast to hold the element of surprise at all times. So naturally, Grall's words had reached him about the king's death. Frildur had never been a big supporter of Sawney or Crimson- deciding they were both brash fools too proud of their own sharpness. But Frildur possessed and odd power that gained him the whispered nickname Mad Eyes. The Charrap had been malformed at creation, cutting him down in size, but adding frightening powers to one other sense. This was another reason Crimson became wary of his presence- once a beast looked into the infinite depths of swirling red eyes, senses were fogged, and the subconscious muted. If a beast stared into the eyes of Frildur, unblinking and holding still, they would only hear the echoing, sibilant voice of Frildur echoing in their brain. Once this strange occurrence took place, the innocent charge would be under the complete power of Frildur. But once the eye contact was broken, the spell shattered with it. Crimson was no fool, and neither was Sawney. Frildur had been instructed to wear a red veil hanging off of the fringe of his hood. The two right paws of Iye had done the impossible- join together and agree on something. Telling Frildur the veil signified rank, the other hoods of the Charraps were under-going changes- red silk veils were now being fixed on, emblazoned with a large letter 'I' in gold fabric. Frildur smiled- tugging the veil upward was no difficult task, and this was how he often gained extra food in the kitchens at mealtime. But it was piety pay. Mad Eyes Frildur was training himself to be quick on locking in on the pupils of the unsuspecting Chareuset, so that perhaps one day he would be in the power of a greater creature. But Mad Eyes found himself cursing the veil- after three or four days of Frildur's food-gathering, Chareuset warriors discovered any who tugged their veil up should immediately shield their eyes, or run away in the opposite direction. Also, Mad Eyes' power couldn't be used on other Charraps who donned the veil, as only the wearer could see out of it, and not vice-versa. But there were ways of getting around that too. Mad Eyes immediately deserted the wall-top, snarling at a passing Charmark to hurry up and sentry the west wall. Jogging at a steady lope down the sloping lawns around the main castle keep, Mad Eyes made his way over to the barracks, which were situated on the south wall along with horse stables and grain silos. Upon reaching a boarded cedar door, coated with red paint, Frildur pulled the veil up, and kicked open the door. Three Charmarks were sitting around a wooden, scrubbed table, sitting on tall cedar stools. The floor was hard-packed dirt littered with straw. To the back were the bunkers for the Charmarks, and up the ladder hatch to the second story, was a long corridor flanked with separate rooms for Charraps. The slaves and servants (namely captured hobbits from a cozy little burg far north called Shanty) lived in the basement of Castle Iye itself. As the door burst open, the three Charmarks leapt to their feet, scattering the clumsy pile of freshly shelled cashew nuts in their haste. A unified gasp echoed from the Charmark's throats as Mad Eyes leapt in, unveiled. All three knew of Frildur's hypnotic stare, and froze to their places on the floor in terror. But oddly, Mad Eyes didn't seem interested in dissolving their minds- he kept his eyes averted, and actually smiled at the trio. "Mornin' to ye all." The three exchanged wary glances. Frildur stared between them, and let his hearty smile shrivel to a satisfied smirk, inklings of ideas picking at the edges of his brain. "I have news for ye all- so listen good, an' don't worry- if I wanted you all under me spell, t'would have been completed afore. Overlord Iye is dead. Deader than yore head's are." The Charmarks never heard the final jibe. "W-What? How d' ye find out?" You mean, how can we trust you? Thought Frildur, grinning inwardly again. This would be easy. "I was patrolling the wall top, and I heard that great bird o' Crimson's tell 'im the news." Three jaws dropped open at once. Mad Eyes had no reason to lie- if he was looking for conquest, Crimson was more than a match, and Sawney was just over the horizon as well. Frildur watched them carefully, reading each mixed stare they exchanged. Frildur sighed, but smiled it the same wind. They were hesitant, he had thought so from the start, but they would soon succumb to the natural instinct their bodies carried, and then would be the time to act.
*The Place of Amanda* Serena lay awake long after Calyces' reverberating snores droned into the background, and mingled with the dry cricket chorus of chirrups. Serena flipped restlessly over, staring into the sky above her. The dark, annoyed cumulonimbus clouded the sky, stretching for miles, but a small pocket hazy gray parted to reveal a window of clear, sharp navy-blue heaven, sprinkled with pinpricks of glowing pale light. Serena closed her eyes to the magnificent celestial performance winking at her from above, wondering angrily why sleep eluded her- she didn't want to be lagging behind come morning. (Aragorn's swift taboo had reached its pinnacle) Opening her vast, glassy blue eyes, Serena let her mind wander, searching for a quieting topic. She found her mind imprinting a picture of lanky Sagitar over her eyes. She found herself smiling and shivering slightly with mirth- she wasn't the only one who seemed to mind Sagitar's company. Sagitar and Astenfire had grown quite fond of each other, as far as Serena was concerned. The two had become fast friends, and often spent the day's march laughing and joking about various comical topics, like Aragorn/ Colette, Arwen's absurdity of being pretty, Aragorn/Colette, Gimli, Aragorn/Colette, and Aragorn/Colette. Serena flipped over again, chewing her bottom lip. She felt a nagging sensation in her heart, which matched the cadence in which the blackness forming on the edges of her brain beat slowly forward, threatening to engulf her. She stuck out a finger and began to draw spiraling shapes in the loose, oxidized dirt to the side of her head. Serena sighed, staring at the odd oval-like pattern she had just drawn. She placed her hand in the center of it, ground it in, and brought her hand up again. Her hand had left a curving diamond shape in the middle of her pattern. Serena finally dozed off, staring at the shape in the sand that unknowingly would bring death in shadow, or the savior of them all.
As the band of elves traveled monotonously across the barren wastelands of the Dead Marshes, trouble was brewing behind Crimson's back. Crimson knew from the start Lask Frildur was a smart and quick-witted Charrap. Crimson also knew all too well Frildur had a knack for keeping his eyes and ears sharpened to a point. It didn't surprise the Charrap when word swept down from the west tower Overlord Iye was dead. Even if Frildur was a head shorter than the average Charrap, thin, and looked more like a half-starved rat than a Charrap of former Overlord Iye's mighty Chareuset Army. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in brainpower and acute senses. Frildur had been slowly but surely pacing along the west battlements of Iye Castle, directly in the shadow of the west tower. Grall, like most jackdaws of his girth, possessed a loud, sharp tone, that could easily have been heard from the gatehouse if a beast stopped long enough, and listened hard enough. Frildur had trained himself from the beginning to tread light- footed- it never hurt a beast to hold the element of surprise at all times. So naturally, Grall's words had reached him about the king's death. Frildur had never been a big supporter of Sawney or Crimson- deciding they were both brash fools too proud of their own sharpness. But Frildur possessed and odd power that gained him the whispered nickname Mad Eyes. The Charrap had been malformed at creation, cutting him down in size, but adding frightening powers to one other sense. This was another reason Crimson became wary of his presence- once a beast looked into the infinite depths of swirling red eyes, senses were fogged, and the subconscious muted. If a beast stared into the eyes of Frildur, unblinking and holding still, they would only hear the echoing, sibilant voice of Frildur echoing in their brain. Once this strange occurrence took place, the innocent charge would be under the complete power of Frildur. But once the eye contact was broken, the spell shattered with it. Crimson was no fool, and neither was Sawney. Frildur had been instructed to wear a red veil hanging off of the fringe of his hood. The two right paws of Iye had done the impossible- join together and agree on something. Telling Frildur the veil signified rank, the other hoods of the Charraps were under-going changes- red silk veils were now being fixed on, emblazoned with a large letter 'I' in gold fabric. Frildur smiled- tugging the veil upward was no difficult task, and this was how he often gained extra food in the kitchens at mealtime. But it was piety pay. Mad Eyes Frildur was training himself to be quick on locking in on the pupils of the unsuspecting Chareuset, so that perhaps one day he would be in the power of a greater creature. But Mad Eyes found himself cursing the veil- after three or four days of Frildur's food-gathering, Chareuset warriors discovered any who tugged their veil up should immediately shield their eyes, or run away in the opposite direction. Also, Mad Eyes' power couldn't be used on other Charraps who donned the veil, as only the wearer could see out of it, and not vice-versa. But there were ways of getting around that too. Mad Eyes immediately deserted the wall-top, snarling at a passing Charmark to hurry up and sentry the west wall. Jogging at a steady lope down the sloping lawns around the main castle keep, Mad Eyes made his way over to the barracks, which were situated on the south wall along with horse stables and grain silos. Upon reaching a boarded cedar door, coated with red paint, Frildur pulled the veil up, and kicked open the door. Three Charmarks were sitting around a wooden, scrubbed table, sitting on tall cedar stools. The floor was hard-packed dirt littered with straw. To the back were the bunkers for the Charmarks, and up the ladder hatch to the second story, was a long corridor flanked with separate rooms for Charraps. The slaves and servants (namely captured hobbits from a cozy little burg far north called Shanty) lived in the basement of Castle Iye itself. As the door burst open, the three Charmarks leapt to their feet, scattering the clumsy pile of freshly shelled cashew nuts in their haste. A unified gasp echoed from the Charmark's throats as Mad Eyes leapt in, unveiled. All three knew of Frildur's hypnotic stare, and froze to their places on the floor in terror. But oddly, Mad Eyes didn't seem interested in dissolving their minds- he kept his eyes averted, and actually smiled at the trio. "Mornin' to ye all." The three exchanged wary glances. Frildur stared between them, and let his hearty smile shrivel to a satisfied smirk, inklings of ideas picking at the edges of his brain. "I have news for ye all- so listen good, an' don't worry- if I wanted you all under me spell, t'would have been completed afore. Overlord Iye is dead. Deader than yore head's are." The Charmarks never heard the final jibe. "W-What? How d' ye find out?" You mean, how can we trust you? Thought Frildur, grinning inwardly again. This would be easy. "I was patrolling the wall top, and I heard that great bird o' Crimson's tell 'im the news." Three jaws dropped open at once. Mad Eyes had no reason to lie- if he was looking for conquest, Crimson was more than a match, and Sawney was just over the horizon as well. Frildur watched them carefully, reading each mixed stare they exchanged. Frildur sighed, but smiled it the same wind. They were hesitant, he had thought so from the start, but they would soon succumb to the natural instinct their bodies carried, and then would be the time to act.
*The Place of Amanda* Serena lay awake long after Calyces' reverberating snores droned into the background, and mingled with the dry cricket chorus of chirrups. Serena flipped restlessly over, staring into the sky above her. The dark, annoyed cumulonimbus clouded the sky, stretching for miles, but a small pocket hazy gray parted to reveal a window of clear, sharp navy-blue heaven, sprinkled with pinpricks of glowing pale light. Serena closed her eyes to the magnificent celestial performance winking at her from above, wondering angrily why sleep eluded her- she didn't want to be lagging behind come morning. (Aragorn's swift taboo had reached its pinnacle) Opening her vast, glassy blue eyes, Serena let her mind wander, searching for a quieting topic. She found her mind imprinting a picture of lanky Sagitar over her eyes. She found herself smiling and shivering slightly with mirth- she wasn't the only one who seemed to mind Sagitar's company. Sagitar and Astenfire had grown quite fond of each other, as far as Serena was concerned. The two had become fast friends, and often spent the day's march laughing and joking about various comical topics, like Aragorn/ Colette, Arwen's absurdity of being pretty, Aragorn/Colette, Gimli, Aragorn/Colette, and Aragorn/Colette. Serena flipped over again, chewing her bottom lip. She felt a nagging sensation in her heart, which matched the cadence in which the blackness forming on the edges of her brain beat slowly forward, threatening to engulf her. She stuck out a finger and began to draw spiraling shapes in the loose, oxidized dirt to the side of her head. Serena sighed, staring at the odd oval-like pattern she had just drawn. She placed her hand in the center of it, ground it in, and brought her hand up again. Her hand had left a curving diamond shape in the middle of her pattern. Serena finally dozed off, staring at the shape in the sand that unknowingly would bring death in shadow, or the savior of them all.