StrahTGW : My pleasure, and thank for you interest.
The Cristal of Corvus
The island of Balfiera had no big city or capital. In fact, the smallest kingdom in Illiac Bay was not a heavily populated territory. All in all, there were six towns without walls: Blackhead, Gallomarket, Singbury, Upvale, Warwych.
After disembarking at Warwych, the island's only commercial port, Rin Tohsaka and Artoria Pendragon reached Upvale. They hoped to find information about the tomb of Corvus Direnni and thus about Excalibur, buried with him. The best thing would have been to go to the Direnni tower where the court of the Castellan de Balfiera sat in normal times... except that the time was nothing ordinary. For fourteen years, the island's sovereign, Medora Direnni, was imprisoned in her own castle by an army of undead!
No one really knew how things could have gone so wrong. It was said that Medora who - before becoming Castellan of the Direnni - had been the magus of the royal court of Daggerfall, would have wanted to release King Lysandus from the curse that had haunted the streets of his former capital since his death at the Battle of Cryngaine. The ceremony would have resulted in a catastrophe and the only reason the undead had not killed Medora was that the Castellan des Direnni remained their invocator. Only its existence kept them in this world.
Unable to dig into the archives of the legendary Adamantine Tower, Rin Tohsaka turned - in a bad mood- to the library of the House of the Guild of the Magi of Upvale.
Upvale Inn was a large stone building. The rooms occupied the floors. The first room, past the front door, was a tavern where the inhabitants came to empty some mugs after a day of work. In the gleam of tallow candles, we could see a mixture of humans and elves discussing, sitting at the counter or around small round tables. The white walls were decorated with red banners featuring the silver stills of the Direnni house, or the gold bull's head, of Balfiera.
Near the entrance, a direnni guard was supposed to prevent drunkard altercations. The guard was a High-Elf with golden skin and delicately silvered elven alloy armor. He wore it on a coat of mail which went down to the middle of his thigh and covered the arms between the shoulders and the gauntlets. A red scarf served as a belt. The helmet was characterized by two lyriform horns. The oval shield had in its centre the engraving of a winged woman, the daedric princess Meridia. No doubt the representation of a goddess fiercely hating the undead must have been of great comfort on this island invaded by animated corpses.
However, the guard was reduced to yawning while watching the fire cracking in the chimney. The regulars were abnormally calm; most had left the bar to invert the dining room... which nevertheless welcomed only one guest who happened to be the object of their disbelief.
When she arrived at the inn, everyone turned around to discover a young woman... no, rather a teenage girl in a chain mail with a sword at her side. Her blond hair was like gold and her eyes were like emeralds. Calling her "beautiful" would not have done her justice. The woman who had just entered had a breathtaking beauty. Each of her gestures exuded confidence and chivalry to the point that she seemed almost masculine... which by a strange paradox made her even more beautiful and feminine.
She had immediately ordered a prolonged meal, and even more than her beauty, her appetite was a sensation. By a magic prodigy, she seemed to swallow... with the utmost perfect elegance, enough to feed four adult men!
Plates and bowls piled up on a corner of a table, while Corillion - the owner of the place- came and went with an air as exhausted as delighted between the kitchens and his adorable client.
Artoria Pendragon smiles at him coming back and putting in front of her an appetizing dish in sauce mixing chicken legs and veal meat. "Cinnamon Bush" said the cook, before waiting for her reaction with a few worry. The young knight carried her fork to her lips. Then, one hand on her cheek, smiled with delight:
- Too good.
The exclamation was greeted by a sigh of comfort from all the spectators. For the keeper, it was understood. The elf was particularly proud of his talent as a cook. That said, Artoria had a strange talent for sharing his culinary happiness with all who watched her.
Between two bites, she made comments:
- A dish with two white meats, chicken and veal, perfectly in harmony... slowly simmered in white wine... the spice mix is subtle. Cinnamon of course... seeds of paradise?
Corillion agreed and Saber continued his gastronomic criticism:
- Ginger... cloves... and there is not only white wine in the sauce base... vinegar?
Corillion nodded:
- Absolutely, my lady.
When Saber had finished, he placed the empty bowl at the top of the pile.
- Master cook, I cannot minimize your talent in my thanks. You excel behind your stoves, believe it. Now, what do you propose for dessert?
Corillion left, charged with a new order.
While Artoria waited while wiping her lips with elegance, a little Japanese girl dressed in a red turtleneck sweater and a short black skirt made her way among the admirers of the knight. With his arms crossed, Rin stood in front of her friend:
- When I think that I spent the morning in a pile of decayed books and parchments in shreds! All I swallowed was dust...
A slight redness appeared on Saber's cheeks:
- Uh... and did you find anything?
The Magus had a haughty sniff:
- Of course I found something! Who do you think you're talking to?
Sitting on the other side of the table, Rin summed up her findings:
- There are many documents about Corvus Direnni, but most are books written by generations after him. I have already read them all. I searched for original documents mentioning his death... and I found one, an ancient legend.
She pushed before Artoria some leaves where she had translated a text written in old Aldmeri.
The kingdom of Rivenspire is a country of old, prosperous and peaceful. Its border was lined with an invisible barrier raised by the archmage Corvus Direnni. Evil could not cross it. It emanated from a Great Blue Crystal with magical properties that were kept in the highest tower of the king's castle. Now one day the Crystal broke in three. Thunder shone and the night was in broad daylight. When the light returned the three fragments had disappeared. The men-at-arms and the king's knights traveled the land to find the crops devastated, the herds decimated by epidemics. In the woods now wandered all kinds of creatures from the night of time. A curse fell on the population of the castle which was decimated. One by one, the knights left the country to try their luck in a more hospitable region. The Magi abandoned their horns and laboratories to disappear forever. Soon, the king found himself surrounded by only a few faithful. He promised a fortune to the hero who would gather the three fragments of the Crystal and venture into the Outer Realms to ask for the help of the Spirit of Corvus Direnni. No one attempted the adventure, the knights having heard that a demon born of all the curses of the world would wander into the Outer Realms and devour the soul of anyone risking in its territory. The old king died of grief. His son reigned some time before being murdered. The Kingdom of Rivenspire fell apart. Weak regents and greedy barons fought over its shreds. Anarchy and disorder replaced the old splendor. The fragments of the Great Blue Crystal created by Corvus Direnni, symbol of the unity of the kingdom, disappeared forever. And similarly Rivenspire was divided into three countries perpetually at war with each other: the Duchy of Verandia, the Duchy of Boralis and the Kingdom of Shornhelm.
Artoria returned the scroll to Rin:
- That's not a lot.
- For you, I suppose the description of the Cristal didn't hit you? It is obviously a very rare morpholith: a Great Stone of Velkyn! In aldmeris "velkyn" means "child of the heavens", these stones are fragments of Aetherius, magic crystals cut from meteoritic glass. The scholars who study them say that the ancient Ayleid cities all had them, and that they were the source of all the enchantments of the city. As a fragment of Aetherius, they are considered the exact opposite of another type of morpholith, the Sigil Stone, capable of maintaining the stability of a daedric plane. This is confirmed by the legend that the Crystal of Corvus banished evil... no doubt it prevented the Daedras of Oblivion and the undead from wandering in the Primary Material Plane by reinforcing the barriers between the worlds. I believe that Corvus Direnni used the properties of the Great Stone of Velkyn to establish a gateway, a passage between Nirn and the Outer Kingdom where he was later buried.
Artoria nodded:
- I understand... if we recover the three fragments and repair this Crystal, the door will open to lead us to the tomb of Corvus... where roam "a demon born of all the curses of the world"...
The two teenage girls exchanged a look heavy with meaning. This fragment of the legend seemed to them the most telling... Since the Fourth Grail War, Angra Mainyu knew he was vulnerable in Excalibur. He wouldn't let anyone near Corvus' grave.
The Magus sighed:
- But this does not solve our main problem. Where do we find the three fragments of the Corvus Crystal? They disappeared at least 2,000 years ago.
- I'm sorry, Rin, I can't help you.
Tohsaka had taken a pensive mine.
- I believe that exploring the Duchy of Verandia, the Duchy of Boralis and the Kingdom of Shornhelm would be as long and fruitless as trying to empty the Illiac Bay of all these fish. No, I think we should go to Daggerfall. After the Direnni Tower, there are the best archives of all Hight Rock.
Artoria frowned at her:
- Do you really believe that fragments of crystals can be mentioned in state archives? It includes major events such as wars, royal marriages or famines.
- Crystals not... but fragments of a Great Stone of Velkyn, yes. There is only one left, complete, in the ruins of the city of Miscarande in Cyrodiil. Legions of adventurers tried to seize it, but the lich of the last king of Miscarande and his legions of the undead failed them. Even a broken stone would attract immense greed. Its presence could fuel wars between nations, murders or blood feuds between Magi, not exactly the kind of things we can hide.
The response of Rin Tohsaka darkened Saber. Bringing together the three fragments of the Corvus Crystal was as perilous as it was difficult.
Phynaster's stride had resumed its course. The caravel was bouncing on the waves, along the southern islands forming the archipelago of Balfiera. The latter spread southwesterly to the coast of Cambria. It would then be enough to follow it to reach the kingdom of Daenia and its capital, Daggerfall.
Three days after leaving Warwych, the journey had sunk in monotony.
Tired of being shaken by the swell, Rin came to speak with the crew when smoke appeared rising from a hatch. The first to cry fire, she saw the sailors rushing under the command of Captain Kelmen. Saber came to her. Neither of them being competent in the fight against the fire, they were reduced to the role of mere spectators.
Half an hour later, Kelmen came out, carrying something rolled into a blanket:
- Ladies, please come to my cabin; I have to show you something.
The two girls looked at each other and accompanied the captain. The latter unfolded the fabric revealing a jar of blackened earth and a piece of cloth almost transformed into coal:
- The fire devastated the lazaret. I found an oil jar just like the ones used to power the lamps. It had nothing to do there. And this rag was used as a fuse... the fire was not accidental; there is a saboteur on board. We don't have enough food left to finish the trip because our reserves have burned down and fresh water comes down to three barrels. Under these conditions, we must stop at the next port.
Captain Kelmen was going to add something, but we knocked on the door. The sailor whispered something to the officer who turned to his guests:
- The lifeboat disappeared and a ship was seen by the lookout, come on!
Accompanying the captain and sailor, Rin and Artoria joined the rear castle. Kelmen in his hand, staring at the darkness of the night, he handed the instrument to the Magus and pointed a direction:
- What do you think of this ship?
Tohsaka shivered involuntarily.. On a cloudy and misty night, any ship would probably have had a sinister appearance. Nevertheless, no light was shining on the rear castle. The sails were in tatters, while seaweed and shellfish were scattered around the hull.
The girl raised her hand and murmured an incantation. The shock in return shook her. DEATH. NON-LIFE. ROT. DECOMPOSITION. DEATH.
- A ghost ship... necrotic magic tore it from its watery grave and revived the rotting bones of its crew.
There were whispers among the crew, but Kelmen silenced them.
- We are three days away from Daggerfall. We are going directly to that port.
The next day was particularly difficult for Saber. She was known for her appetites and portions were now particularly congruent. Unusually irascible, Artoria evoked in general terms what she thought of saboteurs and traitors. Wherever he was, the crew member who had fled the previous day would probably have been caught in icy chills. It was better not to fall into the hands of a hungry Saber...
At the end of the afternoon, the lookout made a cry of unbelief and terror:
- Dragon!
Rin and Artoria rushed to the bulwark like all the crew. In the sky was a large green and winged lizard, its head covered with horns and bone tips was much more impressive than that of a wyvern. While hovering, he seemed to be looking south. Suddenly, his voice rolled among the clouds with the force of a thunderbolt:
- Strum Bah Qo! (1)
Immediately, the wind swelled into a hurricane that tore the sails of The Phynaster's stride. Lightning fell in every direction striking the water... and the great mast. Horrified, Rin saw the huge log fall on Captain Kelmen before smashing the gunwale and smashing the deck. The hull broke in two, rushing the Magus into the water...
But she did not touch the waves. One hand grabbed her by the wrist. In an instant, Rin Tohsaka found herself swept away like a princess, snuggled in the arms of her protector! A little red on her cheeks, she stares at her savior... Saber. Which ran... on the water!
- How do you do that? !
Artoria had a little laugh. In spite of the tragic circumstances and the ship that disappeared behind them in the waves, her friend was only thinking of satisfying her curiosity.
- Viviane not only gave me Excalibur. She blessed me: "No body of water could stand in my way".
At the speed Artoria could reach in the race, the two young girls reached the coast before dark. Beyond a small beach, there was an area of tall grass planted with trees. There was no sign of intelligent life other than a paved road going from north to south. The storm had stopped, but it was still raining, a fine rain that penetrated the clothes. Fortunately, we were still in summer.
- I think we are somewhere in the south of Cambria, murmured Artoria.
Rin glanced at her furiously.
- You are taking this very calmly.
- There is no point in pestering bad luck.
- Is it bad luck?
Saber considers her with serenity:
- As you saw, this dragon screamed at something to the south. It did not attack us. Its objective was another ship. (2).
Rin reflects for a few moments... before she moans half-way, whispering things half-understandable dooming the dragons to the plague and also not sparing the Blades who had boasted of having exterminated them.
Artoria coughed in her fist:
- Back on the road, Daggerfall is to the south.
Rin looked at her irately and then sighed and took a good step. But Artoria reminded her:
- The south is in the other direction.
Rin came back to her, murmuring even less intelligible things. Saber thought it was probably better not to understand.
A little before dark, Artoria discovered several sorbs in the plain. These trees bore edible fruit, corms, a kind of small pear. The two girls did not have to go to bed on an empty stomach.
Rin lit a fire using the rune Ansuz which, as Odin's breathe of life, commanded the flames.
They then took turns to guard. The day rose without incident and they resumed their journey. While Rin and Saber were walking on the paved track, dust indicated the arrival of a vehicle. It was a stage pulled by six horses which stopped when Artoria gave it vigorous signs.
The coachman seemed suspicious, but calmed down before she even spoke by discovering two beautiful teens:
- What do you want?
- We are two passengers en route to Daggerfall. Our ship sank during yesterday's storm. We were lucky enough to get to the coast, but we're reduced to walking. Could you help us?
The driver considered them for a moment:
- If you have money. There is still a seat in the cabin; otherwise you can travel on the roof.
Artoria turned to her friend:
- Rin takes the cabin's seat; I get up on the roof.
They had to pay a rather small sum. The stage was near his terminus, Old Woman's Mill, a small town south of Cambria. They should reach him by nightfall. Fortunately for the two female passengers, there was a connection for Daggerfall who left the next morning.
There were no incidents during the trip or overnight at the Old Woman's Mill Inn. The next day, Rin Tohsaka and Artoria Pendragon showed up at the stagecoach to buy two tickets to Daggerfall. It cost them a lot of the money they had. Indeed, it was a seven-day journey including meals and nights in the relays.
An hour after the departure of Old Woman's Mill, the stage made a first stop... the way was cut by goblins in arms. Far from being worried, the driver treated with the green humanoids... information taken from the other passengers; this was a toll, a common occurrence on this road and an easy source of income for smart monsters. This was confirmed when the small horrors with rheumy eyes and decayed teeth made pass a plate where everyone had to put a septim.
If Artoria had been alone, she probably would have drawn her sword to attack, but she pressed her teeth. The girl hated robbers, but her chivalrous temperament also led her not to attack the first, nor to endanger the innocent.
During the day, the passengers got to know each other. After all, they didn't have much to do other than discuss. The two most impressive travelers were two brothers: Phillip and Ramer Mercier. They were wearing a Dragon's Order Tabard. Born in the Duchy of Phrygios, the two knights had left their father's domain to go to a chapter of their order in Daggerfall.
Next to them was a merchant from Alcaire called Gondyk Kingston. He was a fat man perpetually sweating and bald. He also went to the terminus and traveled to negotiate a big contract.
The last man in the group was Alain Rodyn, a priest of the god Magnus who had left Menevia. He was not very communicative.
In front of the men's seats, were the women of the group, Rin and Artoria of course, as well as the only person not to be of Breton's blood. It was a Redguard called Minerva. She was wearing leather armor and carrying a war mace, as well as a circular shield that had been used extensively. Minerva had made no secret of her mercenary job. After fulfilling a contract in the duchy of Phrygios, she returned to Daggerfall, where she lived.
The day went by without incident except for the dust from the road that entered through the windows, the stifling heat and the bumps of the road broken by the passage of the vehicles.
The inn where the travelers slept that evening looked like the other stagecoaches: dirty, in bad condition, with terrible food and beds as soft as a pile of board. They woke up covered in flea bites.
The mist that was stagnating on Adner was produced by the lake and the icy morning reminding that, in the mountains, autumn was early. So there was a damp, cold exhalation that made the bones shiver. The small Breton town built on an iron mine was nothing like a powerful fortress. Its garrison reached barely two hundred fighters carrying the tabard of the Duchy of Gavaudon.
The Bretons who had gathered on the walls saw their death advance towards them in the form of a ram directed towards the gates. The sticky moisture hung on to the freshly skinned skins that covered its mobile casemate. How to burn it in such conditions?
The miners threw incendiary grenades, simple pots of earth filled with naphtha, on the assailants who pushed ladders and a siege tower towards the ramparts. The explosions spread the atrocious torment of flames among rows of goblins dressed in furs and clad in rusty pieces of equipment.
Goblins' bowmen equipped with bad bows made of goats' horns drew a flock of short arrows fletched with raven feathers. The strokes broke on the battlements and the Brétons' heater shield. Their crossbows fought back. Gaping breaches opened in the rush of green bodies pressing at the feet of the walls. Nevertheless, others were still arriving, an inexhaustible flood that inflated the crowd of creatures already present in the ancient glaciated valley.
The iron hooks of the seat ladders hung on to the crenellations and a swarm of goblins rose to the assault. At the top, they made acquaintance with the halberds of the Bretons. They had drunk a lot the day before in anticipation of the attack. They had sung old songs about chivalrous exploits, dragon-killing heroes and imprisoned princesses, chansons de geste and knight tales. They were at peace and seized by the strange exaltation of those who know they will die!
Hundreds of goblins rushed to confront only sixty men-at-arms. Nothing could have prepared them for the fury of the defenders. The green skins fell down screaming, spraying those who came up with their blood. Some Bretons were well killed, but for one that collapsed ten goblins knew the death. Some attackers who arrived on the walls let themselves fall into the void, terrified by the fury of the defenders. Others dropped their weapons before reaching the ladders and began to run towards the bottom of the valley.
The mocking cries of the Bretons and theirs laughers accentuated the panic of the attackers. They left behind a floor littered with corpses.
It was only the first assault. Already, rude horns and tam-tams were sounding their exalted saraband.
The ram had continued to advance and its head swayed for the first time before hitting the iron-clad oak door and making it resound. From a tube above the leaf came a whirlwind of liquid flames. The goblins that pressed near the war machine were splashed and ignited in an instant. However, the ram was content to smoke slightly while a chain of green skins sprayed it with buckets of water drawn from the nearby lake.
Facing the wall that had previously been staggered, a stream of spider-riders came along. These goblins mounted monstrous arthropods with eight legs and eight eyes; their mere presence sowed fear among the defenders. However, since the towers the crossbows and the light trebuchets pulling started a hell of a fire. The bolts pierced the goblins; the incendiary grenades charred the monsters. Only a few spiders arrived at the feet of the walls. Spitting a long stream of silk at the crenellations, they woven strong ropes and began to climb. Stones and boiling oil welcomed them and many of these horrors fell to the ground before turning on their backs and dying frantically waving their legs. Only two spiders arrived on the way round. Despite their paralyzing venom, they were surrounded by the men-at-arms who cut them to pieces.
The siege tower had also approached, in spite of the multiple crossbows which now bristling it. The drawbridge made of thick loose joists fell on the rampart. The Bretons who defended this sector were mere miners who used their tools, mine bars and picks as weapons. They recoiled as they saw a stream of spotted orcs come ashore, swaying in the armor of orichalch clad in spikes, and holding up improbable-shaped scimitar.
In an instant, it was carnage. The miners were too poorly armed and protected to face such enemies. They had already lost the middle of the section of the wall, between two towers, when reinforcements arrived. These knights surrounded the Baron d'Adner, recognizable by the green and blue toril (3), which surrounded his ornate helmet. All of them wore magnificent full steel plates' armor, their family's coat-of-arm kite shield in on hand, the other holding a sword.
The attackers who dared approach collapsed and the violence of the fight doubled. Even though the orcs were more numerous and still receiving reinforcements, their advance stopped and from time to time one could see a warrior tipping into a void after a last cry of fear.
The ram, however, continued to bludgeon the door. Each blow shook it more and made it vibrate like a gong. The massive brackets on which the flaps were pivoting threatened to break in spite of the defenders who were trying to strengthen them. The wooden bars that closed it were starting to crack.
A more violent shock threw the defenders to the ground who were bending over the door, and then a squeak of bad omen preceded its fall.
Some were crushed; the others gathered, grabbed their wars masses and tightened their ranks to form a wall of shields.
The ram retreated to make way for a rush of wolf assemblers. These goblins loaded cemeteries with fist. The massiers (4) received the shock, shoulders against shoulders, smashing the wolf heads with their weapons, repelling fangs and blades from their shields. In the vault of the door, machicolations were discovered. Boiling oil, heavy stones and Greek fire fell among the monster riders. The carnage caused the aggressors to stumble. However, a flood of foot-soldiers: lancers; swordsmen; archers, replaced them, drained by the breach.
The massiers fought as long as they could. Their lines folded and disintegrated. Some died there; others took refuge in houses, or were swept away by the tide of green skins. The doors of the defense towers were attacked by some axes bearers and crushed. The crossbowmen fought on the stairs and eventually succumbed. The goblins took the defenders on the ramparts from behind. Some groups surrounded fought for hours. The glorious exploits of these defenders were never to be celebrated in High Rock because there were no survivors to tell them.
By evening, the city was burning and the ground was covered with dead… two hundred Bretons had taken with them more than two thousand goblins and orcs. From the fate of the non-combatants, decency commands me not to speak. However, it was terrible because the conquerors made the innocent pay for the resistance that had been opposed to them. However, these sacrifices were of no use. The long snake of migrating hordes continued to spread in the valley. More and more tribes were responding to the call of Angra Mainyu, whose power was growing. After the kingdom of Menevia, the duchy of Gavaudon was in turn invaded.
(1) Thunderstorm/ Fury/ Lightning in Dovahzor (the language of dragons). These are the three power words of the shout "Torment" which invokes the power of the storm. It is an effect of the Thu'um or "voice art" the magic proper to dragons.
(2) The one where was... Shiro Emiya (see chapter 9). A small clue as to who tried to eliminate Shiro. There's only one dragon in Illiac Bay and he's the familiar of a witch.
(3) "Crown" of a baron, formed of two strips of interwoven fabric.
(4) Elite men-at-arms who use of flanged steel war maces. The flanges can dent or penetrate thick armour. Let's not talk about the tiny skulls of goblins... here are some who have found a definitive cure for migraine.