In the morning after a breakfast of bacon, fried potato slices and onions, Robin and the Shaman broke down the shelter and packed it for travel. The Shaman was now dressed in a doeskin tunic that reached to her ankles and soft leather leggings adorned with frills alongside either leg, in her hand she carried a wooden staff with many charms dangling from the end; a fur cloak was also thrown over her shoulders made from a mountain cat. Summer was almost over and the cool autumn air was now encroaching from the far North emitting from the Land of the Frost Lords. Robin again wore his leather armour and long cloak. Shortly before they were prepared to leave, two horses; mates had arrived at the broken down camp. She had summoned them in the evening prior to the Gargoyles attack, just after Bronx's summoning. With the fire pit buried and the heating stones scattered the trio left behind the battleground that was their resting place, along with the buried bodies of their enemy, setting off East, towards the rising sun.
The trees became thick just outside of the grove so the two bareback riders lent all of their concentration to picking their way through the dense foliage, but after a time the trees thinned out and they were soon atop a stony surface that seemed to be part of a great rock Shield that stretched across the land. At one point after they had been steadily climbing up an incline they entered an open rock face ringed by strange stone formations that looked out above a vast valley hundreds of feet below. The stones were of different sizes and looked to have once bore the likenesses of birds, but they were severely worn down by long exposure to the elements and had since lost the detail that once existed upon them. When entering this area a sense of tranquillity settled upon them and the Shaman explained that this was a holy cairn, and that they would be safe here.
The Shaman dismounted from her mare, she rubbed her neck and spoke the equine language soothingly in the mare's ear, and in response the mare nuzzled the Shaman's face and gave her a lick. The holy woman laughed and produced an apple from a leather pouch at her side. She then pulled two large sacks; their ends tied together, from the back of the mare where they hung and released her and her mate from their services. Robin had likewise dismounted and removed his belongings from the back of his steed. Robin was always in awe of his lady's abilities and the special bond she had with animals. He knew and accepted that she was a user of what might be called magic, he did not consider himself superstitious but there was no other explanation, none with any reason. So when faced with something that defies logic, he thought it best to believe the unreasonable.
After setting his equipment down Robin then approached Bronx, earlier the canine Gargoyle had insisted most vehemently, by shoving Robin away, that he wished to carry the wigwam himself. Far be it for Robin to argue with a creature that weighed five stone more then he, so a makeshift harness was made out of branches and extra twine to carry the shelter, the beast had no problem whatsoever carrying the load, in fact he had an easier time then the horses who only carried one rider each along with some personal possessions. It was now midday and the three settled down to eat some dried provisions and to talk.
"In about a weeks time if all goes well we will arrive in Pointe Nexus. There I hope to meet with a friend, providing she were not hindered as well. But first I promised you a tale." She said inclining her head towards her guardian. Robin had begun to sharpen his sword but he held off, lit a pipe and settled back against one of the cairn rocks and prepared to listen.
The Tale of the Gargoyles
It wasn't long after the Sorcerer came into power when he realized he needed loyal servants and an army to carry out his will. He did not trust to the subservience of men, he knew of their strengths and weaknesses, or at least he thought he did. He wanted something more, something that he could call his own and if it cowed the people he ruled the better for it. After he ensorcelled the Sultan and kept the façade in the city that nothing was amiss, he went into his personal study; where he kept his vast library of lore and locked the door.
For months he studied about the races of the world, their strengths and weaknesses, their ecology and habits. He considered Centaurs as minions but they were too much like Man and would be useless indoors. He once looked upon Ogres and Cyclops but considered them to be overly dim-witted. At last he discovered mention of a race of beings that during the day were silent menacing statues but at night became living flesh of great strength and prowess. This race was scattered all over the world and they defended their homes to the bitter end. The Sorcerer surmised that this was something he needed.
So he left on a great journey that would take him across the world, but being a great conjuror a trip that would take years only took him weeks. He visited the Land of the Rising Sun and from there he went to The Emerald Isles and then to The Great Empire. From each place where he encountered the ancient race he found that they were totally loyal to the master of the keep, castle, pyramid, or fort. Each home was protected by a single clan and for the most part they followed the orders and will of the clan leader, that leader was distinguished usually by his strength and intelligence; also by the fact that he was the only one in the clan to posses a name.
Now when it is said that 'for the most part they followed the orders of the clan leader' pay close attention to my wording. What the Sorcerer discovered that like all intelligent races they were susceptible to human emotions, a weakness that the Sorcerer was quick to exploit. Among each clan that he came into contact with he found one individual willing to betray his kin for a shiny bauble or a promise of power. North, East, West, or South there was always one Judas among the clan. So in exchange for a magic ring that would render the wearer invisible or a potion to grant the drinker great strength or a sword that could cleave granite in two, the Sorcerer made an exchange everywhere he went.
Now remember that the Sorcerer went into the World in search of minions that would be loyal to him, what he came back with was something better. Eggs. A pair from every clan in the world that he could find, soon he would have hatchlings of his very own to raise and mould as he'd see fit. He also discovered a way to duplicate the eggs that had already hatched using his magic and an ancient alchemical recipe that involved the blood of the Gargoyle and a piece of the original shell.
Using this secret process the Sorcerer created a second generation, that in his eyes was superior in nature to the first hatchlings. With the second generation he was able to speed up their ageing process and magically feed them the knowledge and awareness that he was their lord and master. He dubbed these second generations as Darkgoyles, for they were evil in nature and fed off of their masters' dark magic. That was another way in which he keeps them loyal, for they needed their master alive in order to consume the magic he gave them to keep up their superior strength.
The Sorcerer also tried to rid them of the need to change to stone during the day, but a far more powerful wizard cast the spell that they were under and the Sorcerer did not wish to face that man, yet. In the end he decided that since their stone form gave them increased recuperative powers it was best to leave them as they were. He would hire mercenaries for the day while his Gargoyles would keep them in order during the night.
So word spread that the Sorcerer had an invincible army of winged creatures at his disposal, which brought the city he lived in under his thumb. Now boldly and openly he took the throne by publicly executing the Sultan and keeping his daughter as his personal slave. What little resistance that stood in his way was soon was crushed by his legion of cutthroats and the Darkgoyles.
Now this brings me to the first generation of hatchlings. Although they were taught the same lessons by the Sorcerer albeit through more traditional methods and not through magic, and although many of them remain loyal to the Sorcerer, not all followed his dark path. Their leader whom the Sorcerer had named Ahriman, which translates to "fiendish spirit" in the common tongue, led some of The First as they called themselves in a rebellion. But they were young and had little chance of success; most were killed but a few survived including Ahriman, although the Sorcerer made that out to be otherwise.
Their current location however is unknown, it is talked that they still seek a way to defeat their former master. It is also rumoured that Ahriman was taken alive and is tortured continually for his transgression and as an example of betrayal. After that attempted coup the Sorcerer no longer gave his brood names to individualize themselves. A sense of identity breeds' free thought was his reckoning. He only refers to them by the season they were hatched in. That is their sad and tragic tale.
Robin looked over to Bronx, the Shaman saw the questioning look in his eyes but allowed him to voice his query. "Then Bronx here, he is not of the Sorcerers spawn? Is he one of The First?"
"He is neither, for remember that the Sorcerer procured eggs from an existing clan, although not on this time-passed plane. I called Bronx forth from a different plane of existence just as I called you. However his world is still out of reach from the evil ones' grasp. I tried to call forth his whole clan but my spirit was not strong enough. Ever since the Sorcerer created the Black Tower of Babil on this world he has been able to draw forth much of Absentia's magic into it, which drastically limits my own available spirit magic. Also you'll notice that it is quite obviously daylight, yet here he walks."
"I was wondering when you'd explain that to me." He grinned while puffing on his pipe.
"Patience is a virtue Robin, so you must be virtuous indeed. I'm sad to say it was not my doing, it seems the twin moons have a peculiar effect on our Gargoyle friend, why him and not the others I cannot yet say, but we are blessed that he does not need to transform every day, I just pray that it lasts."
"What do you mean?"
"Magic is a fickle thing, one day he may revert to stone in an inappropriate moment. Say while we're in a canoe or crossing a rope bridge."
"Your words make me ill at ease, my lady, I don't think I wish him to sleep next to me in case that does happen. I don't relish having quite a heavy statue sprawled atop of me in the morning. He finished with his pipe and tapped out the ashes on a rock "Why wasn't Bronx affected by the journey like I was?"
"You mean your memory loss?"
He nodded.
"I can only guess at that, I believe it was because your world was already being engulfed by the Sorcerer's magic, it made your transition more, difficult."
"Hmph, I should say so." He looked at Bronx. "You're a lucky bugger, y'know that?"
Bronx opened his mouth wide and yawned in response.
Robin smiled and tossed him the last of his dried meat, which the beast happily caught and swallowed whole. "Bronx? What does that mean? It sounds foreign."
"I suspect it is," she said smiling, "though I do not know its meaning."
Robin rose from his sitting position and dusted off his trousers, giving his tail a quick swish to shake off some dirt. "I thank-you for the tale lady Shaman, but if we are going to descend this cliff then we best start, it may take a few hours and the noonday shadows lengthen."
"Yes Rob, we have dallied here longer then I expected, but this was a tale that needed to be heard."
"I do not argue that with you, knowing the Gargoyles we slew earlier were nothing but the Sorcerers conjurations has put my mind at ease."
The Shaman's face grew grim but as Robin set about buckling his sword she held back telling him that the creatures they fought earlier were those of The First; the ones still loyal to their master. He had not yet encountered a Darkgoyle, she prayed that it would be a long time coming when he did, for she did not think their victory will be as easily won.
