Chapter Three
The Grey Witch
South of Fortress Myce stood the outposts of Kannon. One of the older kingdoms of Lodoss, it was similar to the Alania, in that it valued the mind and learning over the military. This was admirable, but proved to be slightly less than intelligent when they were the nearest area conquerable by the vicious and highly trained armies of Marmo.
Deeper in the forests near the border, Trent shook his head in disgust at the one-sided battle. The soldiers of Kannon hadn't stood a chance in hell; they were hardly even trying.
Sighing, he slipped deeper into some of the foliage and began making for the border. It had taken him over a half hour of arguing to convince the other five members of his party to let him go gallivanting off to check the advance of the Marmo. Debate was...not his strong suit. He usually didn't argue, or solved problems by simply removing them. Having to deal with Deed's stubborn refusals to let him do anything dangerous (he couldn't figure out why; he was an assassin and a warrior for god's sake) had eaten up most of his time. In the end, he'd had to promise that he would only be gone for a day while actually checking the progress of the enemy, and that he wouldn't actually attempt to fight anyone.
A bit less than he had hoped for.
One ability or talent that all elves share is there ability to slip through woodlands. Between their light builds, natural affinity for leaping, easy grace, and superb sense of balance, they were built for it better than most monkeys or squirrels.
Add to that the training that Trent's father had given him as a ranger and the assassin training his mother had given him (which was several orders of magnitude more strenuous), he was as close to being a ghost in trees as a living person could be.
"Look what we have here boys."
Trent froze as he heard the voice in the distance (an elf's pointed ears aren't just for show.) He quietly chanted the spell he used to make him harder to see, and slipped through the air and canopy towards whatever was babbling.
It ended up being, predictably enough, Alanian foot soldiers.
Who had come across a much smaller contingent of dark elves, presumably of Marmo.
The dozen or so of them were at the moment discussing what to do with the four elves they'd caught.
What you have to understand here is that there were several concepts that made up who Trent was. One of these is that by and large, other members of his race are what humans stereotype them as. Crafty, sneaky, and not to be trusted. Though generally the lack of trust is due to elves being smart enough to assume that humans betray them a lot more often (which isn't quite true, but close enough).
The other fundamental factor coming into conflict was that Alanian soldiers were scum. They were generally the mercenaries that the king was cheap enough to higher, or the criminals, conscripts, and generally deplorable individuals that shouldn't have been trusted within a thousand feet of a weapon.
So the question was, who to help?
One of them, the leader judging by the ornately embroidered badge on his beret leered appreciatively at one of them. "Now, now boys, there's no reason to be rude. After all, I'm certain that this little thing would be...cooperative."
Another fundamental concept came into play. You could skin a rapist alive over the course of three days, and he'd still deserve every bit of it. Decision made.
The three males of the elves drew themselves into a line to block their leader; they had long since been trained not to hesitate to give up their lives in the defense of her.
The leader tsked at them. "Oh, not willing to share? Well, we can certainly deal with the three of you first." They unsheathed swords or hefted spears, but they were confident. The odds were three to one; how could they possibly lose?
Four of them died simultaneously as Trent's throwing scalpels buried themselves in the jugulars of each target. Two others soldiers were almost instantly bisected by his sword.
The other elves were stunned at this turn of events; in less than five seconds their opponents had been reduced by half. Still, they knew better than to look this gift horse in the mouth. Thirty bloody seconds later, it was over.
Trent allowed his spell to dissolve as he faded back into sight. He appraised the four elves absently. The three men were more or less typical of the race. One looked like he could have been the brother of the elf that Jebra had killed; dark, muddy brown skin, platinum blond hair, and decidedly average features. The other had grayish white hair and extremely pale skin, his features much smoother until they came to sharp edges along the center of his nose and brow. The last looked older, scruffier, and more experienced. His skin was darker than the pale one's, but not by much. Uncharacteristically for an elf, he sported facial hair; a goatee and thin, impeccably trimmed mustache.
Their leader was one of the females. Dark elf society by and large is matriarchal, so this didn't surprise Trent in the least. What did surprise him was her appearance.
Even for an elf, she was stunning. Her skin was darkest of the four, a rich chocolate color. Her features were both smooth and sharp in different places, giving her even more of an appearance of ethereal beauty than was typical for elves. Her hair was silver white, and came down almost to her knees, bound into a tail roughly at her shoulder blades. Her clothing was also...well, less rugged. She wore a short dress of some kind of almost violet-tinged white cloth; sleeve-less, it came barely to mid-thigh, the front a v-neck very openly displaying her...assets.
Trent forced himself to ignore her appearance. "Leave here. More soldiers will eventually come."
Pirotess, the dark elf woman cocked her head to the side as she gazed at him. "Who are you?"
Trent swallowed imperceptibly at her golden eyes. He had to leave immediately; they'd probably kill him when they found out. He invoked the shadow-walking spell he used for quick get-aways, slipping through the dark spots against a tree trunk. Before the shadow's gate closed completely, he whispered, "Shadowlight."
Pirotess's eyes widened in absolute shock. Like most of her generation, she was rather...well acquainted with the near-legendary exploits of her race's most feared criminal. Actually coming across a man who'd been spoken of as the elf equivalent of the bogeyman was a decidedly less than comfortable experience. Especially considering that he'd just risked his life to save the people he was better known for hunting down like animals.
She shook her head, managing to successfully banish at least part of what she was thinking. She was a leader, a soldier...no more than that she was a warrior. She had duty to do. Once that was over, she could find some answers.
--------
Arguably the strongest nation of all Lodoss was Valis; the great holy kingdom dedicated to the god Falis. Located in the central areas of the continent, it was home to those who were generally regarded to be the strongest and most skilled warriors of the entire world.
Within the castle of Roid, King Fahn gazed down nobly upon his daughter Fiana. In his seventies, he was no less an imposing figure, in many ways the flip side of a coin to Beld. Just as tall and muscular, his silver hair was let loose in a flowing mane down his back, the thin circlet of gold that marked him king keeping it back.
"Fiana, this journey will not be a pleasant one. However, I have total faith that you will execute your duties as princess successfully."
Fiana nodded. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old; short and slight, pale-skinned and black-haired, only the richness of her garb really making her royalty clear; she could have been Liara's sister. "I understand, father. I will see to it that your message to King Kadamos goes through."
Fahn turned his old, tired eyes on the two holy knights kneeling behind Fiana. "See my daughter...no, see the princess safely on her way."
The higher ranking of the two looked up, bowing formally to his king. "Do not fear your majesty. Your daughter will be safe with us."
--------
Trent stared in abject disgust at the gate guards for Alan, the royal capital. "Let me make sure I have this right. Your king has decided that no one is to be allowed into the royal capital, regardless of the fact that one is a priest of Falis, and the other is a citizen of your country."
The leader glared coldly. "We don't care. Our orders are to not let anyone into the city, including citizens."
Etoh stared at them incredulously. "What's going on?!"
"None of your business! Alania will not take part in a war, but they will not be subjugated either."
"Meaning they've decided to sit this one out," Woodchuck quipped. "Bitch, ain't it?"
Trent glared at them. "Then why the hell did Fortress Myce die? Does that matter at all to you?"
"A SINGLE FORTRESS IS AN ACCEPTABLE LOSS!"
Trent ground his teeth, visibly forcing himself not to go for his scalpels. Etoh and Deed throwing themselves on his shoulders weren't needed, though he'd admit that the feeling against his shoulder blades of Deed's...He took a deep, shuddering breath to both banish his hostility and any other emotions. "You know, I'd really hoped that my opinion of your nation's army couldn't possibly drop any lower. Thanks for destroying that hope."
The Alanian soldier's glare could have ignited paper, but he simply turned and walked back into the gate, showing remarkable self-control.
--------
The advance of the hordes of Marmo proved to be far greater than anyone would have dared to imagine. Landing on the lakes that rimmed Kannon's capital of Shining Hill, the ruthless army had subjugated the city and thus the entire nation in mere days.
In the palace's throne room, King Kannon was unceremoniously dragged before King Beld, his arms shackled behind him. Tall and thin, his pale skin and immaculately trimmed gray hair and beard made him look more like a merchant or an accountant than a King.
Wagnard smiled as the knights threw him to the ground. "Come now King Kannon. All you need do is surrender to avoid any further unnecessary bloodshed."
Despite his appearance, Kannon had at least some pride. "And who would willingly deal with devils?!" He managed to pull himself onto his knees without aid. "Even should the royal house fall, the people of Kannon will never submit to your rule!"
Beld's lazy smile never wavered. "I see." Without further words, he extended the silver goblet in his hand, pouring out the blood red wine until it stained the flagstones. Kannon's eyes widened in shock; to him, it looked as though Beld had been drinking blood; blood that he had commanded to be spilt by his knights.
Without further ado, the knights linked their arms around Kannon and dragged him away; to execution or merely imprisonment, one or the other.
From a curtained alcove came Karla's lilting voice. "Well played Lord Beld. With this, the entire south of Lodoss is yours."
Beld showed the first signs of feeling. "Ashram...reports favorably then?"
Karla's smiles seemed to widen minutely. "'Tis early for such glad tidings. But fear not. Despite their numbers, Alania is absolutely no threat." She seemed to glance through the walls, far beyond what her eyes actually saw. "An emissary has been dispatched from Valis."
Beld's smiled widened hungrily. "Fahn...he's making his move."
"I will attend to this my lord," were Karla's last words before she faded from the throne room.
Wagnard looked back to where she had once been. "A cunning woman, is she not?"
Beld continued to stare, before tossing his now empty goblet across the stones contemptuously. "We'll continue to use her as long as it proves convenient for us."
--------
"Trent! TRENT!"
Deedlit put on a burst of speed to cut off the dark elf. "How long are you going to keep sulking like this, eh?"
Trent sighed. It was nice to not be treated like a leper anymore, but why on earth was she trying so hard to play nursemaid? "I'm not sulking at all."
Deed glared at him. He was so damn irritating, and he was way too quiet! He needed to start actually living rather than just going through motions!
Slayn gazed ahead. "Are you sure you want to try that? You're heading into the Forest of No Return."
Etoh and Woodchuck started in horror. Wood gaped. "Wh-whoa, we're...we're not going in there, are we?"
Trent nodded. "I can't shadow walk too far, and regardless I can't drag any of you along with me. It's the fastest way to Valis."
Woodchuck sprinted for all he was worth to try and cut of Trent. "Hey, come on now. Be reasonable! There are a lot of other ways to Valis...safer ways?"
Trent shook his head. "How many people are going to die while we mosey our way down the primrose path? We don't have the time for the luxury of safety. This is the only road to Valis we can take, and Valis is pretty much the only nation willing to make a stand against Marmo with any chance of success."
Ghim snorted. "And I suppose you're going to be fighting alongside Fahn? Dark elves and Holy Knights...never thought I'd see the day."
Trent grinned darkly as he continued. "Almost as hard to believe as a dark elf tolerating a dwarf, huh?"
Woodchuck snorted, shaking his head. "The hell with that! You ever heard of anyone getting out of that deathtrap alive?!"
"Then I'll be the first, huh? I can live with that."
Woodchuck started growling in exasperation. "Oh come on! Will somebody talk some sense into this guy?"
Trent shrugged. "If you don't want to come, don't. I can shadow walk there."
"Let's go then." Deed chirped, much to Wood's dismay and Trent's surprise. "Let's go into the forest of no return," she said, smiling. It was nice to see him finally caring about something, letting a little bit of passion reach the surface.
Slayn turned to Ghim as the High elf led them into the forest. "What of your own journey?"
Ghim shouldered his pack, suddenly morose as he walked forward. "Don't bother yourself with my business."
Before they had gone more than a few dozen feet into the woods, Deed stopped them. "Listen to me. Before we go in there, you must empty your hearts and minds. Anger, hostility, fear...you must leave all these behind."
Ghim snorted in disgust. "Figures the elf would try and order us around."
Deed smiled sweetly at him. "I meant that for the rest of us. A dwarf wouldn't feel any emotions if he wanted to," she quipped, reveling in his disgusted snort. Turning, she raised both hands before her. "Lord of the forest, guardian of all plants, open the forbidden gateways and let us pass through to the metropolis. Lord of the forest, guardian of all plants, open the forbidden gateways and let us pass through to the metropolis."
A pale, faint golden light seemed to roll out of the woods like a mist. Deed gestured purposefully. "Come on!"
Wood grinned sarcastically. "'Come on in' she says. Sure." He gaped in comic dismay as no one else seemed to share his reservations. "Oy! Wait for me!"
Trent blinked, shaking his head dazedly as they entered the forest. "I feel strange; its like something's flowing out of me."
Slayn nodded; he could feel it too but was much more accustomed to dealing with odd feelings. "It happens to everyone here. It's because feelings of anger and hostility cannot exist here. They're getting sucked out along with your energy."
Etoh's eyes widened. He was also handling it slightly better. "Of course...the realm of fairies!" He turned to the apparently unaffected Deed. "This is your people's realm, isn't it?"
Deed nodded but continued ahead. "Hurry up!"
Trent frowned, managing to at least distort the feelings enough that they wouldn't impede him too much. "What's happening?"
Slayn continued, keeping the dark elf on pace. "Time travels differently in this realm than it does for ours. If we stay here to long, we could end up dying of old age."
Trent winced. The last thing he needed to see was the group of them shriveling up and dying. He paused as a crossroad seemed to materialize. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of a tall, white-haired man with pointed ears, and eyes he recognized only too well. "Father?!" His breathing quickened as he looked, only to shake his head violently. The image faded away as he continued staring at it. A mirage...
Woodchuck snorted in disgust. What the hell is a smart, self-respecting thief like me doing in here, huh? I'm just gonna get myself killed. He paused as his foot struck something. Looking down, his eyes widened in absolute shock. Falling to his knees, he began sifting the heavy grains of dirt in his hands. "Gold! Gold dust! HAHAHA! I'm rich! Rich! I'm..." His eyes widened a little bit further (hard to believe, ne?) as the dust changed into mud. Looking around, he found that he'd ended up a good thirty yards behind the rest of the party, and a darkness was catching up to him only to quickly. "HEY! WAIT FOR ME!"
Deed stared in horror as the thief charged after him, living branches doing their damnedest to grab him and drag him away. Focusing, she wove a quick spell of shamanism. "Spirit of Light, mother which nourishes plants, come forth and dispels this darkness!"
Wood gasped in relief as the ball of light nullified the spells on the trees, freeing him. Ghim stared at him in mixed scorn and outrage. "What kind of damn fool falls for something as obvious as THAT?!"
"No! You mustn't let your emotions get the better of you!" Deedlit yelled.
The trees frozen only moments before came back to life, lunging for the dwarf. He was a great deal stronger than Woodchuck; he was able to fight much harder, his axe shattering two of the branches that went for his right arm. Still, brute physical power only goes so far when you're fighting spirits or magic.
Ghim froze as an illusion wove itself in front of him. "Le-Leylia?!" The image shifted from the young slip of a girl into a somewhat older woman; still young, but a woman rather than a child. A woman dressed in violet and black, with a bejeweled circlet that seemed to have eyes on her forehead. "NO! Give her back!"
Trent leapt into the air after Ghim, his star-shaped throwing knives severing the branches holding his legs. His extra weight was just enough to break the last grip as the two of them plummeted into some kind of hole.
The two of them landed after a few minutes in another stretch of forest, thankfully without injury. Only moments later, the rest of their party came charging out of the forest, calling their names. It had been neither planned nor particularly lucky, but they had reached the end of the forest much faster than they had planned.
--------
Farther south and east the land became blasted, a waste of what had once been fields and villages. Just as Beld, Ashram, and Karla had long since predicted, the Alanian resistance had been beyond pitiful. What few forts and towns had been deemed worth the trouble were crushed in hours; what had once been soldiers nothing more than spear and saber decorated meat.
Ashram's eyes narrowed as he rode into the fort. He had no magical abilities of any kind; all he relied on were his sword, mind, and brutally honed body. More often than not, this proved sufficient for his purposes. He unsheathed his sword and slashed in a single motion, almost casually bisecting the impaled corpse that had been used as a make-shift weapon against him.
Karla smiled (okay, she nearly always smiles so this is hopefully the last time I mention it) from the battlements. "Was the Alanian resistance less than you expected, Sir Ashram?"
Sheathing the blade, he deigned not to even allow a glimpse. "Mind your own matters. What of the emissary dispatched from Valis?"
"You learned of that far sooner than I expected."
"We of Marmo know that even the tiniest oversight or slip may prove fatal."
Karla laughed as she faded away. "Fear not. I came here only to hear those words from your lips."
Alone, Ashram allowed his disgust to finally show. He assumed she was aware of his dislike, but to reveal it would be undisciplined; THAT, he would not allow. "Damned witch."
--------
Once out of the forest, one could find significantly more hospitable woodlands. Etoh and Slayn had begun trying to bring Ghim around near one of the creeks on the Alania/Valis border. The dwarf waved aside a cold compress as he came to, groaning. "I'll be fine."
Etoh had a concerned look on his face. "What happened to you in the forest?"
Ghim ignored him, his mind elsewhere. "Leylia..."
Trent raised an eyebrow. "Leylia? You called her name back there." He held up a hand as Ghim gave him a slightly dirty look. "Hey, if you want to keep it to yourself, go right ahead. I'm hardly one to start about revealing everything there is about oneself."
"Do you really think he has that right?" Deed asked from the shade of a nearby poplar. "His actions back there nearly killed us all."
Etoh winced at her bluntness. And I thought elves loved to beat around the bush. "Deed."
Ghim sighed. Why did it have to be her? Slayn I wouldn't have minded; Woodchuck I wouldn't have answered, the kid or the other elf don't care... "I'm looking for Leylia, daughter of Neese, the high priestess of Marfa."
Slayn's eyes widened. He'd known something was up from the second Ghim had moseyed into Zaxom to try and drag him somewhere; this however was a bit more than he'd expected. "Neese, the high priestess in Tarba?"
Ghim nodded as the memories began playing through his mind. "Seven years ago, Neese left the shrine to come and care for wounds I'd suffered in a mining accident. Leylia was praying for my well being at the shrine. Then..." he sighed. According to the accounts he'd heard, some...person had come into the shrine, a person who'd seemed to be nearly dead. That was all they knew.
Wood looked up from where he'd been idly sharpening his dagger. "So somebody snatched her, huh?"
Slayn shook his head. "But as the daughter of the high priestess, she would have been trained in arts to protect herself. Who could have kidnapped a trained priestess?"
Further talk was forestalled as a faint rumble like distant thunder came. As it was, Deed and Trent's sharp hearing was the only thing that could hear it over the sudden outpouring of crows from a stretch further out in the forest.
--------
Fireballs surged wildly around a bucking royal carriage drawn by four horses. None hit the carriage itself; they had been very carefully aimed to deal with the knights trying to protect her.
Four died quickly under the brutal mage assault. One rode nearer the carriage in a vain attempt at valor. "Don't fear princess! We knights of the Holy Order will defend you even with our lives!"
Fiana winced as he rode away to try and draw the fire bolts wildly pounding the area. Sinking into her seat, she drew her hands together as she tried to remain calm.
"I wonder, will your prayers reach your god?"
Fiana gasped at the woman's voice. Seated calmly before her was the Grey Witch. "Guards! Someone help!"
"There's no need for that my dear. Nor for your mission. Any resistance from Alania has long since been crushed." Karla's ever-present smile seemed to grow slightly. "Your disappearance would likely move King Fahn to action, would it not?" Karla glanced to the side as her mage senses felt more movement from the few knights she'd originally intended as being able to deliver the message. Oh well. Fiana's disappearance in of itself would have to suffice.
Trent's eyes widened in horror as the last three knights to have survived were pounded by fireballs. He ran towards the only one to have survived. "What the hell happened back there?"
The survivor, if he could be called that, raised his head weakly. "The princess...please protect...the..." Further talk became impossible as he collapsed, dead or unconscious. Trent snarled to himself, ignoring the words of the others about the princess. Grabbing the reins of the one horse that had seemed to survive, he swung into the saddle, charging after the carriage.
"Trent!"
Wood shook his head tiredly. He'd been part of their little group for less than a week now, and he was already getting tired of Trent's bad habit of ignoring help. "Charges into everything, doesn't he?"
Karla sighed in the carriage as she registered the strange dark elf she'd been keeping track of. Strong, head-strong, and principled; he would have been easy to manipulate and worth the time to do so. Still, if there was one thing her long life had taught her, it was that there are always more people when you need them.
The horse whinnied in fear as a trio of fire balls roared towards them. Trent set his feet against the saddle horn, leaning forward past the horse's nose. In one motion, she unsheathed his sword and cut towards the blast. He certainly couldn't defuse it, but he could deflect it easily enough to keep riding.
Slayn grunted in pain as the two blasts that had been untouched roared towards them. Grinding his staff into the ground, he solemnly intoned, "Reveal thy true form and protect our movements through." The blast exploded on impact with his shield, deflecting around far enough to dig a trench in the rock around them.
Trent wheeled his foaming horse to a stop as mist rolled over them. He frowned as he swept the area with elven-sight, the strange ability of his people to spot heat. Two...just one person to take on ten holy knights?
Slayn had by this time managed to catch up. "Trent, wait! There's a mage here, a frighteningly powerful one."
Trent nodded. "Up ahead, on that rock. That's her."
Karla's mental estimations of the elf and his companions went up a few notches. It wasn't every day you came across someone who could deflect fire balls with just steel, nor a mage who could balk any of her spells. Worthy opponents if nothing else.
Trent's eyes narrowed. "Release her now." His hand slid towards his sword as she simply stood there, motionless and speechless. Her eyes abruptly hardened as he touched his hilt, grinding against him. Trent gasped as his weight apparently tripled or so.
Slayn came running forward, only to be subjected to the same treatment. Karla dismissed him after taking a good look at his skill levels; better than decent, but hardly worrisome. "That's far enough."
Trent took a deep, shuddering breath, centering himself. Had she used actual chains or such to hold him down, or piled earth on him to try and weaken him it might have worked. The spell was based purely on her energies however, and THAT he could counter to a degree. Drawing on his reserves, he slowly slid the blade free, bringing it to a forward guard between himself and the witch. "Let. Her. Go."
"Trent!" Deed's hand flashed to her water skin as she hurled it towards her. Bringing her left hand to her forehead, she chanted quickly. "Friend Undine, spirit of water, come to our aid!"
The water burst from the bag, swirling into the form of a small human female speeding towards the witch. It burst on impact with her shield spell, causing little more than a distraction.
Ghim stared as well, though unfortunately for him it was for significantly different reasons. "Le...Leylia?!" Older, yes. Hardened certainly, but there was no mistaking what had once been the slip of a girl who had demanded he play with her, who had demanded he carve dolls for her.
As Trent slowly advanced, Karla quickly assessed her options. She could kill all six of them and take Fiana back to wherever Beld was currently conquering, most likely for a quick (or long) death. No, she had a better idea. All she needed was a full-blown war, and this would serve for now. "Warrior...in tribute to your courage, I award you."
Trent gasped as the spell suddenly cut off, the body of Fiana drifting towards him. He grabbed her before she could drop, passing her off to Slayn and Etoh. Before he could throw a single knife however, a bolt of lightning had struck, taking Karla far away.
--------
Atop the castle of Kannon, Wagnard fumed disgustedly at the sights below him. In what had once been Shining Hill, ogres and goblins ran rampant, destroying and pillaging where they chose, celebrating to cheap wines and ale elsewhere.
This entire war seemed...superfluous. Oh, he agreed with it to a degree; it was the way of existence that the world should belong to the servants of Falaris, greatest of the gods. He supported Beld's conquest of Valis and the rest of Lodoss, but what was the real purpose? In time, they would all die, and like the ancient kingdoms of Kastuul it would die off and be lost in time.
He shook his head, muttering his thoughts aloud. "What purpose is the conquest of Lodoss? In time, all men will turn to dust."
Miles away, an ancient power stirred. Deep beneath Castle Conquera, Narse looked up as he felt the powers of his patron stirring for the first time in eons. Dragon jaws are not made to smile, but he would have if he could as forces older than this world shuddered, finding for the first time in millennia a possible outlet for them. "WHO ARE YOU?"
Wagnard gasped, his mind going far beyond shock. The sheer, raw power behind the voice was like nothing his mind could rap itself around. "Who...who are you?" Surely someone else was hearing this...such raw energy couldn't possibly be ignored.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
Wagnard bit back a scream as the energies began rippling through him, empowering him like nothing in this world. "This...this power...could it be the ancient goddess who sleeps in our world..." His eyes blazed crimson as they opened. "Kardis...IS THIS KARDIS?!?!?!?!"
to be continued...
South of Fortress Myce stood the outposts of Kannon. One of the older kingdoms of Lodoss, it was similar to the Alania, in that it valued the mind and learning over the military. This was admirable, but proved to be slightly less than intelligent when they were the nearest area conquerable by the vicious and highly trained armies of Marmo.
Deeper in the forests near the border, Trent shook his head in disgust at the one-sided battle. The soldiers of Kannon hadn't stood a chance in hell; they were hardly even trying.
Sighing, he slipped deeper into some of the foliage and began making for the border. It had taken him over a half hour of arguing to convince the other five members of his party to let him go gallivanting off to check the advance of the Marmo. Debate was...not his strong suit. He usually didn't argue, or solved problems by simply removing them. Having to deal with Deed's stubborn refusals to let him do anything dangerous (he couldn't figure out why; he was an assassin and a warrior for god's sake) had eaten up most of his time. In the end, he'd had to promise that he would only be gone for a day while actually checking the progress of the enemy, and that he wouldn't actually attempt to fight anyone.
A bit less than he had hoped for.
One ability or talent that all elves share is there ability to slip through woodlands. Between their light builds, natural affinity for leaping, easy grace, and superb sense of balance, they were built for it better than most monkeys or squirrels.
Add to that the training that Trent's father had given him as a ranger and the assassin training his mother had given him (which was several orders of magnitude more strenuous), he was as close to being a ghost in trees as a living person could be.
"Look what we have here boys."
Trent froze as he heard the voice in the distance (an elf's pointed ears aren't just for show.) He quietly chanted the spell he used to make him harder to see, and slipped through the air and canopy towards whatever was babbling.
It ended up being, predictably enough, Alanian foot soldiers.
Who had come across a much smaller contingent of dark elves, presumably of Marmo.
The dozen or so of them were at the moment discussing what to do with the four elves they'd caught.
What you have to understand here is that there were several concepts that made up who Trent was. One of these is that by and large, other members of his race are what humans stereotype them as. Crafty, sneaky, and not to be trusted. Though generally the lack of trust is due to elves being smart enough to assume that humans betray them a lot more often (which isn't quite true, but close enough).
The other fundamental factor coming into conflict was that Alanian soldiers were scum. They were generally the mercenaries that the king was cheap enough to higher, or the criminals, conscripts, and generally deplorable individuals that shouldn't have been trusted within a thousand feet of a weapon.
So the question was, who to help?
One of them, the leader judging by the ornately embroidered badge on his beret leered appreciatively at one of them. "Now, now boys, there's no reason to be rude. After all, I'm certain that this little thing would be...cooperative."
Another fundamental concept came into play. You could skin a rapist alive over the course of three days, and he'd still deserve every bit of it. Decision made.
The three males of the elves drew themselves into a line to block their leader; they had long since been trained not to hesitate to give up their lives in the defense of her.
The leader tsked at them. "Oh, not willing to share? Well, we can certainly deal with the three of you first." They unsheathed swords or hefted spears, but they were confident. The odds were three to one; how could they possibly lose?
Four of them died simultaneously as Trent's throwing scalpels buried themselves in the jugulars of each target. Two others soldiers were almost instantly bisected by his sword.
The other elves were stunned at this turn of events; in less than five seconds their opponents had been reduced by half. Still, they knew better than to look this gift horse in the mouth. Thirty bloody seconds later, it was over.
Trent allowed his spell to dissolve as he faded back into sight. He appraised the four elves absently. The three men were more or less typical of the race. One looked like he could have been the brother of the elf that Jebra had killed; dark, muddy brown skin, platinum blond hair, and decidedly average features. The other had grayish white hair and extremely pale skin, his features much smoother until they came to sharp edges along the center of his nose and brow. The last looked older, scruffier, and more experienced. His skin was darker than the pale one's, but not by much. Uncharacteristically for an elf, he sported facial hair; a goatee and thin, impeccably trimmed mustache.
Their leader was one of the females. Dark elf society by and large is matriarchal, so this didn't surprise Trent in the least. What did surprise him was her appearance.
Even for an elf, she was stunning. Her skin was darkest of the four, a rich chocolate color. Her features were both smooth and sharp in different places, giving her even more of an appearance of ethereal beauty than was typical for elves. Her hair was silver white, and came down almost to her knees, bound into a tail roughly at her shoulder blades. Her clothing was also...well, less rugged. She wore a short dress of some kind of almost violet-tinged white cloth; sleeve-less, it came barely to mid-thigh, the front a v-neck very openly displaying her...assets.
Trent forced himself to ignore her appearance. "Leave here. More soldiers will eventually come."
Pirotess, the dark elf woman cocked her head to the side as she gazed at him. "Who are you?"
Trent swallowed imperceptibly at her golden eyes. He had to leave immediately; they'd probably kill him when they found out. He invoked the shadow-walking spell he used for quick get-aways, slipping through the dark spots against a tree trunk. Before the shadow's gate closed completely, he whispered, "Shadowlight."
Pirotess's eyes widened in absolute shock. Like most of her generation, she was rather...well acquainted with the near-legendary exploits of her race's most feared criminal. Actually coming across a man who'd been spoken of as the elf equivalent of the bogeyman was a decidedly less than comfortable experience. Especially considering that he'd just risked his life to save the people he was better known for hunting down like animals.
She shook her head, managing to successfully banish at least part of what she was thinking. She was a leader, a soldier...no more than that she was a warrior. She had duty to do. Once that was over, she could find some answers.
--------
Arguably the strongest nation of all Lodoss was Valis; the great holy kingdom dedicated to the god Falis. Located in the central areas of the continent, it was home to those who were generally regarded to be the strongest and most skilled warriors of the entire world.
Within the castle of Roid, King Fahn gazed down nobly upon his daughter Fiana. In his seventies, he was no less an imposing figure, in many ways the flip side of a coin to Beld. Just as tall and muscular, his silver hair was let loose in a flowing mane down his back, the thin circlet of gold that marked him king keeping it back.
"Fiana, this journey will not be a pleasant one. However, I have total faith that you will execute your duties as princess successfully."
Fiana nodded. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old; short and slight, pale-skinned and black-haired, only the richness of her garb really making her royalty clear; she could have been Liara's sister. "I understand, father. I will see to it that your message to King Kadamos goes through."
Fahn turned his old, tired eyes on the two holy knights kneeling behind Fiana. "See my daughter...no, see the princess safely on her way."
The higher ranking of the two looked up, bowing formally to his king. "Do not fear your majesty. Your daughter will be safe with us."
--------
Trent stared in abject disgust at the gate guards for Alan, the royal capital. "Let me make sure I have this right. Your king has decided that no one is to be allowed into the royal capital, regardless of the fact that one is a priest of Falis, and the other is a citizen of your country."
The leader glared coldly. "We don't care. Our orders are to not let anyone into the city, including citizens."
Etoh stared at them incredulously. "What's going on?!"
"None of your business! Alania will not take part in a war, but they will not be subjugated either."
"Meaning they've decided to sit this one out," Woodchuck quipped. "Bitch, ain't it?"
Trent glared at them. "Then why the hell did Fortress Myce die? Does that matter at all to you?"
"A SINGLE FORTRESS IS AN ACCEPTABLE LOSS!"
Trent ground his teeth, visibly forcing himself not to go for his scalpels. Etoh and Deed throwing themselves on his shoulders weren't needed, though he'd admit that the feeling against his shoulder blades of Deed's...He took a deep, shuddering breath to both banish his hostility and any other emotions. "You know, I'd really hoped that my opinion of your nation's army couldn't possibly drop any lower. Thanks for destroying that hope."
The Alanian soldier's glare could have ignited paper, but he simply turned and walked back into the gate, showing remarkable self-control.
--------
The advance of the hordes of Marmo proved to be far greater than anyone would have dared to imagine. Landing on the lakes that rimmed Kannon's capital of Shining Hill, the ruthless army had subjugated the city and thus the entire nation in mere days.
In the palace's throne room, King Kannon was unceremoniously dragged before King Beld, his arms shackled behind him. Tall and thin, his pale skin and immaculately trimmed gray hair and beard made him look more like a merchant or an accountant than a King.
Wagnard smiled as the knights threw him to the ground. "Come now King Kannon. All you need do is surrender to avoid any further unnecessary bloodshed."
Despite his appearance, Kannon had at least some pride. "And who would willingly deal with devils?!" He managed to pull himself onto his knees without aid. "Even should the royal house fall, the people of Kannon will never submit to your rule!"
Beld's lazy smile never wavered. "I see." Without further words, he extended the silver goblet in his hand, pouring out the blood red wine until it stained the flagstones. Kannon's eyes widened in shock; to him, it looked as though Beld had been drinking blood; blood that he had commanded to be spilt by his knights.
Without further ado, the knights linked their arms around Kannon and dragged him away; to execution or merely imprisonment, one or the other.
From a curtained alcove came Karla's lilting voice. "Well played Lord Beld. With this, the entire south of Lodoss is yours."
Beld showed the first signs of feeling. "Ashram...reports favorably then?"
Karla's smiles seemed to widen minutely. "'Tis early for such glad tidings. But fear not. Despite their numbers, Alania is absolutely no threat." She seemed to glance through the walls, far beyond what her eyes actually saw. "An emissary has been dispatched from Valis."
Beld's smiled widened hungrily. "Fahn...he's making his move."
"I will attend to this my lord," were Karla's last words before she faded from the throne room.
Wagnard looked back to where she had once been. "A cunning woman, is she not?"
Beld continued to stare, before tossing his now empty goblet across the stones contemptuously. "We'll continue to use her as long as it proves convenient for us."
--------
"Trent! TRENT!"
Deedlit put on a burst of speed to cut off the dark elf. "How long are you going to keep sulking like this, eh?"
Trent sighed. It was nice to not be treated like a leper anymore, but why on earth was she trying so hard to play nursemaid? "I'm not sulking at all."
Deed glared at him. He was so damn irritating, and he was way too quiet! He needed to start actually living rather than just going through motions!
Slayn gazed ahead. "Are you sure you want to try that? You're heading into the Forest of No Return."
Etoh and Woodchuck started in horror. Wood gaped. "Wh-whoa, we're...we're not going in there, are we?"
Trent nodded. "I can't shadow walk too far, and regardless I can't drag any of you along with me. It's the fastest way to Valis."
Woodchuck sprinted for all he was worth to try and cut of Trent. "Hey, come on now. Be reasonable! There are a lot of other ways to Valis...safer ways?"
Trent shook his head. "How many people are going to die while we mosey our way down the primrose path? We don't have the time for the luxury of safety. This is the only road to Valis we can take, and Valis is pretty much the only nation willing to make a stand against Marmo with any chance of success."
Ghim snorted. "And I suppose you're going to be fighting alongside Fahn? Dark elves and Holy Knights...never thought I'd see the day."
Trent grinned darkly as he continued. "Almost as hard to believe as a dark elf tolerating a dwarf, huh?"
Woodchuck snorted, shaking his head. "The hell with that! You ever heard of anyone getting out of that deathtrap alive?!"
"Then I'll be the first, huh? I can live with that."
Woodchuck started growling in exasperation. "Oh come on! Will somebody talk some sense into this guy?"
Trent shrugged. "If you don't want to come, don't. I can shadow walk there."
"Let's go then." Deed chirped, much to Wood's dismay and Trent's surprise. "Let's go into the forest of no return," she said, smiling. It was nice to see him finally caring about something, letting a little bit of passion reach the surface.
Slayn turned to Ghim as the High elf led them into the forest. "What of your own journey?"
Ghim shouldered his pack, suddenly morose as he walked forward. "Don't bother yourself with my business."
Before they had gone more than a few dozen feet into the woods, Deed stopped them. "Listen to me. Before we go in there, you must empty your hearts and minds. Anger, hostility, fear...you must leave all these behind."
Ghim snorted in disgust. "Figures the elf would try and order us around."
Deed smiled sweetly at him. "I meant that for the rest of us. A dwarf wouldn't feel any emotions if he wanted to," she quipped, reveling in his disgusted snort. Turning, she raised both hands before her. "Lord of the forest, guardian of all plants, open the forbidden gateways and let us pass through to the metropolis. Lord of the forest, guardian of all plants, open the forbidden gateways and let us pass through to the metropolis."
A pale, faint golden light seemed to roll out of the woods like a mist. Deed gestured purposefully. "Come on!"
Wood grinned sarcastically. "'Come on in' she says. Sure." He gaped in comic dismay as no one else seemed to share his reservations. "Oy! Wait for me!"
Trent blinked, shaking his head dazedly as they entered the forest. "I feel strange; its like something's flowing out of me."
Slayn nodded; he could feel it too but was much more accustomed to dealing with odd feelings. "It happens to everyone here. It's because feelings of anger and hostility cannot exist here. They're getting sucked out along with your energy."
Etoh's eyes widened. He was also handling it slightly better. "Of course...the realm of fairies!" He turned to the apparently unaffected Deed. "This is your people's realm, isn't it?"
Deed nodded but continued ahead. "Hurry up!"
Trent frowned, managing to at least distort the feelings enough that they wouldn't impede him too much. "What's happening?"
Slayn continued, keeping the dark elf on pace. "Time travels differently in this realm than it does for ours. If we stay here to long, we could end up dying of old age."
Trent winced. The last thing he needed to see was the group of them shriveling up and dying. He paused as a crossroad seemed to materialize. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of a tall, white-haired man with pointed ears, and eyes he recognized only too well. "Father?!" His breathing quickened as he looked, only to shake his head violently. The image faded away as he continued staring at it. A mirage...
Woodchuck snorted in disgust. What the hell is a smart, self-respecting thief like me doing in here, huh? I'm just gonna get myself killed. He paused as his foot struck something. Looking down, his eyes widened in absolute shock. Falling to his knees, he began sifting the heavy grains of dirt in his hands. "Gold! Gold dust! HAHAHA! I'm rich! Rich! I'm..." His eyes widened a little bit further (hard to believe, ne?) as the dust changed into mud. Looking around, he found that he'd ended up a good thirty yards behind the rest of the party, and a darkness was catching up to him only to quickly. "HEY! WAIT FOR ME!"
Deed stared in horror as the thief charged after him, living branches doing their damnedest to grab him and drag him away. Focusing, she wove a quick spell of shamanism. "Spirit of Light, mother which nourishes plants, come forth and dispels this darkness!"
Wood gasped in relief as the ball of light nullified the spells on the trees, freeing him. Ghim stared at him in mixed scorn and outrage. "What kind of damn fool falls for something as obvious as THAT?!"
"No! You mustn't let your emotions get the better of you!" Deedlit yelled.
The trees frozen only moments before came back to life, lunging for the dwarf. He was a great deal stronger than Woodchuck; he was able to fight much harder, his axe shattering two of the branches that went for his right arm. Still, brute physical power only goes so far when you're fighting spirits or magic.
Ghim froze as an illusion wove itself in front of him. "Le-Leylia?!" The image shifted from the young slip of a girl into a somewhat older woman; still young, but a woman rather than a child. A woman dressed in violet and black, with a bejeweled circlet that seemed to have eyes on her forehead. "NO! Give her back!"
Trent leapt into the air after Ghim, his star-shaped throwing knives severing the branches holding his legs. His extra weight was just enough to break the last grip as the two of them plummeted into some kind of hole.
The two of them landed after a few minutes in another stretch of forest, thankfully without injury. Only moments later, the rest of their party came charging out of the forest, calling their names. It had been neither planned nor particularly lucky, but they had reached the end of the forest much faster than they had planned.
--------
Farther south and east the land became blasted, a waste of what had once been fields and villages. Just as Beld, Ashram, and Karla had long since predicted, the Alanian resistance had been beyond pitiful. What few forts and towns had been deemed worth the trouble were crushed in hours; what had once been soldiers nothing more than spear and saber decorated meat.
Ashram's eyes narrowed as he rode into the fort. He had no magical abilities of any kind; all he relied on were his sword, mind, and brutally honed body. More often than not, this proved sufficient for his purposes. He unsheathed his sword and slashed in a single motion, almost casually bisecting the impaled corpse that had been used as a make-shift weapon against him.
Karla smiled (okay, she nearly always smiles so this is hopefully the last time I mention it) from the battlements. "Was the Alanian resistance less than you expected, Sir Ashram?"
Sheathing the blade, he deigned not to even allow a glimpse. "Mind your own matters. What of the emissary dispatched from Valis?"
"You learned of that far sooner than I expected."
"We of Marmo know that even the tiniest oversight or slip may prove fatal."
Karla laughed as she faded away. "Fear not. I came here only to hear those words from your lips."
Alone, Ashram allowed his disgust to finally show. He assumed she was aware of his dislike, but to reveal it would be undisciplined; THAT, he would not allow. "Damned witch."
--------
Once out of the forest, one could find significantly more hospitable woodlands. Etoh and Slayn had begun trying to bring Ghim around near one of the creeks on the Alania/Valis border. The dwarf waved aside a cold compress as he came to, groaning. "I'll be fine."
Etoh had a concerned look on his face. "What happened to you in the forest?"
Ghim ignored him, his mind elsewhere. "Leylia..."
Trent raised an eyebrow. "Leylia? You called her name back there." He held up a hand as Ghim gave him a slightly dirty look. "Hey, if you want to keep it to yourself, go right ahead. I'm hardly one to start about revealing everything there is about oneself."
"Do you really think he has that right?" Deed asked from the shade of a nearby poplar. "His actions back there nearly killed us all."
Etoh winced at her bluntness. And I thought elves loved to beat around the bush. "Deed."
Ghim sighed. Why did it have to be her? Slayn I wouldn't have minded; Woodchuck I wouldn't have answered, the kid or the other elf don't care... "I'm looking for Leylia, daughter of Neese, the high priestess of Marfa."
Slayn's eyes widened. He'd known something was up from the second Ghim had moseyed into Zaxom to try and drag him somewhere; this however was a bit more than he'd expected. "Neese, the high priestess in Tarba?"
Ghim nodded as the memories began playing through his mind. "Seven years ago, Neese left the shrine to come and care for wounds I'd suffered in a mining accident. Leylia was praying for my well being at the shrine. Then..." he sighed. According to the accounts he'd heard, some...person had come into the shrine, a person who'd seemed to be nearly dead. That was all they knew.
Wood looked up from where he'd been idly sharpening his dagger. "So somebody snatched her, huh?"
Slayn shook his head. "But as the daughter of the high priestess, she would have been trained in arts to protect herself. Who could have kidnapped a trained priestess?"
Further talk was forestalled as a faint rumble like distant thunder came. As it was, Deed and Trent's sharp hearing was the only thing that could hear it over the sudden outpouring of crows from a stretch further out in the forest.
--------
Fireballs surged wildly around a bucking royal carriage drawn by four horses. None hit the carriage itself; they had been very carefully aimed to deal with the knights trying to protect her.
Four died quickly under the brutal mage assault. One rode nearer the carriage in a vain attempt at valor. "Don't fear princess! We knights of the Holy Order will defend you even with our lives!"
Fiana winced as he rode away to try and draw the fire bolts wildly pounding the area. Sinking into her seat, she drew her hands together as she tried to remain calm.
"I wonder, will your prayers reach your god?"
Fiana gasped at the woman's voice. Seated calmly before her was the Grey Witch. "Guards! Someone help!"
"There's no need for that my dear. Nor for your mission. Any resistance from Alania has long since been crushed." Karla's ever-present smile seemed to grow slightly. "Your disappearance would likely move King Fahn to action, would it not?" Karla glanced to the side as her mage senses felt more movement from the few knights she'd originally intended as being able to deliver the message. Oh well. Fiana's disappearance in of itself would have to suffice.
Trent's eyes widened in horror as the last three knights to have survived were pounded by fireballs. He ran towards the only one to have survived. "What the hell happened back there?"
The survivor, if he could be called that, raised his head weakly. "The princess...please protect...the..." Further talk became impossible as he collapsed, dead or unconscious. Trent snarled to himself, ignoring the words of the others about the princess. Grabbing the reins of the one horse that had seemed to survive, he swung into the saddle, charging after the carriage.
"Trent!"
Wood shook his head tiredly. He'd been part of their little group for less than a week now, and he was already getting tired of Trent's bad habit of ignoring help. "Charges into everything, doesn't he?"
Karla sighed in the carriage as she registered the strange dark elf she'd been keeping track of. Strong, head-strong, and principled; he would have been easy to manipulate and worth the time to do so. Still, if there was one thing her long life had taught her, it was that there are always more people when you need them.
The horse whinnied in fear as a trio of fire balls roared towards them. Trent set his feet against the saddle horn, leaning forward past the horse's nose. In one motion, she unsheathed his sword and cut towards the blast. He certainly couldn't defuse it, but he could deflect it easily enough to keep riding.
Slayn grunted in pain as the two blasts that had been untouched roared towards them. Grinding his staff into the ground, he solemnly intoned, "Reveal thy true form and protect our movements through." The blast exploded on impact with his shield, deflecting around far enough to dig a trench in the rock around them.
Trent wheeled his foaming horse to a stop as mist rolled over them. He frowned as he swept the area with elven-sight, the strange ability of his people to spot heat. Two...just one person to take on ten holy knights?
Slayn had by this time managed to catch up. "Trent, wait! There's a mage here, a frighteningly powerful one."
Trent nodded. "Up ahead, on that rock. That's her."
Karla's mental estimations of the elf and his companions went up a few notches. It wasn't every day you came across someone who could deflect fire balls with just steel, nor a mage who could balk any of her spells. Worthy opponents if nothing else.
Trent's eyes narrowed. "Release her now." His hand slid towards his sword as she simply stood there, motionless and speechless. Her eyes abruptly hardened as he touched his hilt, grinding against him. Trent gasped as his weight apparently tripled or so.
Slayn came running forward, only to be subjected to the same treatment. Karla dismissed him after taking a good look at his skill levels; better than decent, but hardly worrisome. "That's far enough."
Trent took a deep, shuddering breath, centering himself. Had she used actual chains or such to hold him down, or piled earth on him to try and weaken him it might have worked. The spell was based purely on her energies however, and THAT he could counter to a degree. Drawing on his reserves, he slowly slid the blade free, bringing it to a forward guard between himself and the witch. "Let. Her. Go."
"Trent!" Deed's hand flashed to her water skin as she hurled it towards her. Bringing her left hand to her forehead, she chanted quickly. "Friend Undine, spirit of water, come to our aid!"
The water burst from the bag, swirling into the form of a small human female speeding towards the witch. It burst on impact with her shield spell, causing little more than a distraction.
Ghim stared as well, though unfortunately for him it was for significantly different reasons. "Le...Leylia?!" Older, yes. Hardened certainly, but there was no mistaking what had once been the slip of a girl who had demanded he play with her, who had demanded he carve dolls for her.
As Trent slowly advanced, Karla quickly assessed her options. She could kill all six of them and take Fiana back to wherever Beld was currently conquering, most likely for a quick (or long) death. No, she had a better idea. All she needed was a full-blown war, and this would serve for now. "Warrior...in tribute to your courage, I award you."
Trent gasped as the spell suddenly cut off, the body of Fiana drifting towards him. He grabbed her before she could drop, passing her off to Slayn and Etoh. Before he could throw a single knife however, a bolt of lightning had struck, taking Karla far away.
--------
Atop the castle of Kannon, Wagnard fumed disgustedly at the sights below him. In what had once been Shining Hill, ogres and goblins ran rampant, destroying and pillaging where they chose, celebrating to cheap wines and ale elsewhere.
This entire war seemed...superfluous. Oh, he agreed with it to a degree; it was the way of existence that the world should belong to the servants of Falaris, greatest of the gods. He supported Beld's conquest of Valis and the rest of Lodoss, but what was the real purpose? In time, they would all die, and like the ancient kingdoms of Kastuul it would die off and be lost in time.
He shook his head, muttering his thoughts aloud. "What purpose is the conquest of Lodoss? In time, all men will turn to dust."
Miles away, an ancient power stirred. Deep beneath Castle Conquera, Narse looked up as he felt the powers of his patron stirring for the first time in eons. Dragon jaws are not made to smile, but he would have if he could as forces older than this world shuddered, finding for the first time in millennia a possible outlet for them. "WHO ARE YOU?"
Wagnard gasped, his mind going far beyond shock. The sheer, raw power behind the voice was like nothing his mind could rap itself around. "Who...who are you?" Surely someone else was hearing this...such raw energy couldn't possibly be ignored.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
Wagnard bit back a scream as the energies began rippling through him, empowering him like nothing in this world. "This...this power...could it be the ancient goddess who sleeps in our world..." His eyes blazed crimson as they opened. "Kardis...IS THIS KARDIS?!?!?!?!"
to be continued...
