Chapter one ; Blood on the streets
Clouds. Thick as wool. Heavy like delirious dreams. Their snakes of breeze and steam tried to rob the earth of its sky. In wane. A few gaps in their mighty flows revealed a laughing moon that only hounds can worship. Still in wane. Forever in wane. No clear or cloudy night ever caused such dull bruises of fear, but this one did and no one could shield from them. A thunder tore the silence but it wrought no rain. At least a drop, to soften it down, but not a drop will fall for many more weeks. Small creatures were smarter than great ones for they've looked for shelter first, like children seek comfort in their mother's arms all hidden in a basement before an invading army. Malice whispered behind every sound, echoing hidden and all present, though it gave no token of what its source was or where it has begun to sneak trough the shadows. A lingering reminder perhaps, on an age long past…
Some say that all is well that ends well, and to a certain end they are right. A thousand years fled since the great cataclysm which was named The Time of Troubles. It caused old realms to vanish and what people had rebuilt has bean named Forgotten, since. Much blame for consequences fell upon Healm the Watcher, The Vigilant One and he lost many followers since, but duty was his to guard and consequences he could not regret. Today the land stands divided by Forgotten Realms for they had built them desperately trying to recover that which was lost and forgotten. Because of the gods' zeal was the old world lost, a world flooded, a world scorched. Because of our losses they don't stand aside now, but give us their aid when we need it the most and answer our prayers when our words are worthy. But once more the time comes when they will grow deaf and what we thought for ended shall prove to be merely postponed.
An unsuspecting city of Baldur's Gate stood apparently defiant to any who would pass by, but within its walls the sent of war cried in people's awareness, making their dreams darker than the night above. Like bubbles of boiling water in the pot, hate and fear murmured in every home, from the filthiest of baggers to the wealthiest of nobles, and it was all directed towards Amn, the great region to the south-east. But even Amn was unsuspecting, forced to move like a flock beyond the knowledge that it was being forced. Time of peace and flowery words has long since past, faster than a hilltop behind eagle's gaze because now all were gazing at metal. Not gold or silver or bronze, but precious iron that grew too scarce. Swords were no longer sharpened, armor was no longer mended and all those who depended on craftsman's and blacksmith's work became starving like outcasts with no more use. Words were sent but Amn did not reply and now hostility piled up between two forces. The Flaming Fist, a resident garrison of Baldur's Gate held what they could grasp, leaving not a scraps of needles and screws for anyone save the defending army, and people gave their last willingly for battles were just beyond the horizon's edge, announced every day for the next day to come. But in all the mixture of tormenting anticipation and eminent battle cries waiting to be tossed at a hated enemy, there were still two men who couldn't care less about the abyss' edge.
In the northern part of the city, rising like a giant black spear, towering headquarters of Iron Throne the seat of all mining guild loomed still, both silent and deaf to any of town's calls. Deployed of light within or outside it too was at a brink of ruin kept alive only by wealth piled up during years before the climactic shortage. Rather than beating like a heart vane, acting more like a withering flower denied of life giving water, once the mightiest organization in all the realms was the last dying flame in an evening's fireplace. Or so it seamed.
Tonight an assault was made by one man alone. Only one man stirred the local guards, only one slipped pass most of them leaving nothing but corpses to mark his trail, and that one managed to reach far enough to face another. High lord Reiltar, prime governor of Iron Throne stood patiently in his resident chambers awaiting words of intruder's death. Knowing full well of the guard's previous efficiency against this trait, he still had not the least bit of concern or doubt in the outcome. Thick short hair, black like freshly mined coal hung above his wrinkled forehead and his thin lips were concealed by a neatly cut beard. The chamber it self was a wealthy library filled with tall bookshelves of graywood and many extravagant displays of nobility like statues of ancestors carved in marble. Even a bust of Balduran, the legendary hero who founded the city decorated crimson walls with its radiance. Pooling up a chair, Reiltar snorted and sat behind his writing desk filled with secret reports of rising tides. As he sat his green vestment caught a bit of air within and silently glided down around him releasing it slowly. The intruder occupied his mind. Alone wolf sent to sniff his store room. Wolves were common in the forming tale, sneaky paws and shrewd filth of all who sensed his plans. Perhaps this mutt belongs to Zentharum. He thought : Their ranks are always full of those. Useful they may be, but only in most cases, and this is not that case. No one knows that a shark swims in my lake. No one can see my dragon in this bush. A report came to his hands of the Zentharum region far to the east. It seemed that they were trying to ally with Amn against the city and now they've sent their Zent assassin here to lubricate negotiations. They would serve my sowed head and pass it as dish... if your beast is any match to mine. Another report caught his eye, this one coming from the forests of Cloackwood. His stepson was right. The forthcoming war has already chosen its victor. Just a few more months and Baldur's Gate will smite all enemies with Iron Throne in the lead. The lad was the right person to take care of it. He already defeated every trainer there was. Ruthless as they get and sharp like diamond's edge, he will provide victory for all of them. He'll take care of everything.
Top flours which housed receptions, were now empty and silent like the rest of the tower. Minutes ago, sounds of steel banging on steel and cries of duel entwined with demented laughs erased any shred of silence. Old torches on blue walls begun to die out making room for the silken darkness, a grim spawn of the night. Slow but menacing footsteps stirred the deaf air that inhabited a corridor, connecting empty rooms for visiting lords. A mountain of a knight with a large blade in his right hand slowly paced trough, and with his fiery eyes he wounded the shadow. One would choose blackness over those, for if a murderous ice could house amber it would be his gaze. His armor of dark metal was an image of a monster. By three blades on each specter face mounted on his shoulders, and by three more on each forearm all like crooked daggers, with a large buckle on his belt depicting a scull in a ring of fire bolls. His helmet was a horned screaming scull of a human-like beast and his gauntlets were sharp metal claws, lightly gripping the hilt of his huge sword. The blade was a twohander, but he wielded it like a one hand sword with an equal ease and unmatched skill. A drop of blood slid down the sword's edge barely noticeable on such scarce light. The dark knight laughed as he stalked his pray with quiet laughs like a demon's cunning, and than his blazing eye fell on a trail of blood. He crouched and passed his metallic claw over a small ruby pound as if he wanted to cut the very blood with his finger. Placing the sword on his back he spoke in the darkness where the trail was leading :
" What shall I call you other than a Zent interloper ?"
No voice answered his question. He stood up and walked on with his weapon still in its boots.
" I'm no Zent. "; it came finally, from somewhere within the corridor. These hopeless and weary words forced a snort out of him.
The dark knight smiled beneath the metal jaw of his scull-helmet :
" You are, as far as my fool stepfather is concerned. " he spoke as he walked trough the corridor :" But what is the real truth ? What beastie is it, that tries to bite an armored leg, and than runs when its teeth are broken ?... Gibberling !"
With this final word he razed his metallic forearm, catching the blade that tried to collapse on him. His other arm made a fist, striking the attacker hidden in the shadows. Another knight fled trough the air, knocked away by giant's strength and resumed sliding over smooth marble as he landed, smudging his blood over the flour. He had a silvery armor with decorations of blue cloth now colored red by his opened wounds, and his helmet had two long horns with white and blue rings painted on them. He swiftly picked him self up and forgetting his sword, he limped away as fast as he could. The dark knight giggled sadistically and started pacing after him casually.
" Where are you, little gibberling ? You cannot cover your taint. It draws me stronger than your trail of blood. "
He came to the end of a corridor where a dining room stood. A large chamber dressed in yellow sateen with comfy furniture and crystal tables. It was still maintained clean and tidy, though the guests he would house there had other tastes. His quarry run up the stairs that led on a small balcony, and he grinned as he paced on to corner him.
Another lightning flashed in the distance making the black roof white for just an instant. A thunder followed as a wooden dour opened, and a tormented visage of a knight lumbered exhaustedly and collapsing. The dour closed behind him concealing him from withering torches within the staircase, and he panted and heaved swallowing cold air with wide opened mouth. The balcony was the very roof of the tower, bordered with a tall iron fence of black spears. A cage. There was no way out of there. Maybe… Maybe he won't find him...
In a moment of violent terror he turned gasping as the wooden dour burst in splinters and his pursuer stepped forth, black on torch lights from behind and white on the lightning flash from beyond. Laughter echoed around the monstrous man, with the sound in his throat that splintering bones would be proud of and his blazing eyes seemed like windows to an inferno. The blue knight started to drag him self backwards on all four before this nightmarish vision :
" No…no you can't… "
" I will be the last !... And you will go first…"; the dark knight grinned as he started his final approach.
Fear gave him strength to rise from the flour, the same fear that strained his every fiber like an iron cord.
" The… There are others ! I can show you ! Please… PLEASE !"
He tried to turn and run but the black fence greeted him instead. As he turned back he saw a fist for just an instant and than white filled his sight. Air was so heavy beneath the burden of pain. The helmet with long blue and white horns rolled back and forth a few paces away from him. He was barely conscious as a sharp freezing hand took him by his neck and razed him like a puppet. Another lightning clouded his sight and his body broke trough the iron fence still hanging in this beastly grip. Air was denied to him. He felt like he would choke in his own vomit, but nothing could pass trough his throat any more. With last strands of strength he banged on the arm that held him, and banged so until the last chocking sound broke out of his sealed lungs. Those blazing laughing eyes faded with the rest of the night... A pink mist everywhere… his hand dissolving in a swarm of yellow dots, first the skin, than the muscle… A scull in a ring of fire bolls… than the bone… it was gone.
The dark knight spat the last few wicked laughs and hurled the dead body on the streets below. He went silent and closed his eyes waiting to receive the reward for his triumph not waiting for the corpse to hit the ground. A golden cloud of fireflies hovered to him from the depths beneath, closing around him like a sphere and green mist seemed to gather around his feet. He laughed out loud, screaming each breath while power surged into him, poring more and more oil on the flame within his soul, and than in a crack of thunder it was all over. The cloud of glittering dots dispersed, vanishing trough the cracks in stone tiles. At once exhausted and strengthened, he took a deep breath and his hungry gaze of fire turned towards south and the direction of a great keep beyond the horizon, at the sharp cliffs of the western shore.
" Soon, now… Soon… "
" You wish for now too quickly. "; a soft woman's voice came behind him.
He turned towards the speaker, an elf girl whose words were like a child's whisper. She was a warrior kin with a silvery armor and her head bore short messy blond hair. Like all elves her pointy ears were almost three times as long as human's, and her large eyes, slightly sloping towards her short nose, were deep like mountain lakes. And filled with concern.
" While I whish for it not to come. "; she said with a mild shudder :" Your ambition has taken over your life, and as I look upon you my eyes cannot pierce it. "
His gaze grew softer and he ran towards her taking her tiny palms into his. She was almost two thirds of his height and as he gazed down upon her she had to raze his sight to him.
" I'm afraid, my love. I fear of what you are doing to your self. With each day… "
" With each day, each hover, every second of every hover, my power grows. "; He cut her of softly :" I am changing, Tamako. But my heart will always be yours. By my father's blood, it always has bean. "
She razed his strong hands closer to her, trying to feel him trough the metal of his gauntlets, but it resonated only in chill and cruel magic which was forged into it. And than a drop of blood glittered on the metallic claw. She gazed back at him disturbed.
" I love you. "; she said :" And I fear of you. I fear… for you. "
" No. "; he reached for her cheek and his large palm covered it completely :" Do not say that. I need you by my side, Tamako. I can't do this without you. To abyss with all the others ! I need you ! "; she bowed her head down but he gently lifted her chin up to face her :" I know my every gesture draws fear but not in you. Never in you. "
She attempted a fade smile :
" Let us go away. Just the two of us. Somewhere where no one will find us… "
He shut his fiery eyes and after a little tighter squeeze he released her palms and passed behind her :
" If an apple grows too heavy, "; he said after a moment :" the tree is burdened by its weight with no one to pick it. It waits, and the tree waits. The day is coming for me, and the ripe fruit is whispering. Name the place where days do not reach and whispers are too silent. "
She bowed her head and sighed sadly as the lightning flashed on the horizon. He turned to her again :
" Please have faith, Tamako. Soon I shall give you everything your hearth desires. Soon I shall have what is due, what is mine, and only you deserve to be at my side. Please, last. Tell me that you'll last. "
He took her shoulders as if poring his strength into her and she smiled just a little :
" I could never betray you, my dark knight. I shall give my life for you and any of my aid, such as it is. "
" All it takes is your love. "; he whispered
" That you already have. And I know you have love for me… but I can not see it any more beneath your anger… and it stings me to look. "
He turned and snorted loudly :
" It is mine, Tamako. And I chose to claim it. No other shall come this far while I draw breath. It is too late to stand down. It was always too late. "
He left her there retreating back inside to inform his stepfather of the intruder's demise and Tamako unleashed silent tears that finally softened the malice away, and Morning Lord started to conquer the night.
" …Lathender… help me… "