Exile
Interlude
From afar they watched. They could see the humans moving about in their small settlement while the land moved about them. Further afield they saw others watching, mixed groups that moved to spy on those newly come. One stood, white robes fell around him as his head turned to the others in silent communication.
"They come for far. Where does the gate lead? Which plane, which world?"
Another answered, his blue robes reflecting light with a metallic shimmer as he rose, facing the white clad one.
"Magister, we have yet to tell. There is a familiarity to the magic powering the gate, a signature that marks it almost as one of us, yet it is not."
A third one rose, his red robes casting a long shadow defying the light as it extended further than any of the others.
"Magus, Magister and others, we watch as we always have and until now have not worried about the new comers. They come from afar, but they are weak and of no concern." He paused and continued, "Or so it was, now one has come through, we felt the threads of power as he entered, felt them move where he went but could track him no further. As worrying, we now believe others watch, that others move even as we do. We fear, Masters, we fear that they come and we are not ready."
The three faced each other, their eyeless heads dipping as one as they turned to the last of them, the fourth sitting in his black robes, the one who did not rise, who did not speak. They waited and, slowly, he elevated himself, his seated body raising, floating.
"You await a verdict, but that is a matter for you, Magister. You seek an answer to the Gates, you would know what powers them, but that is a matter for you Magus. You would know of he who weaves power, who throws threads to hide and to ensnare, but that is a matter for you Holy one. No one has spoken of insurrection, of armies, of death and thus this is, as yet, not a matter for me."
The white clad one looked at him, "But it is, did you not hear, did you not perceive beyond the words of the Holy One? The arrival of the one with power shows that others watch. The Insep are here, and they are always your concern General!"
The black clad being nodded. "Very well, it is my concern and now the whole council is involved. The humans will be led, they will make contact with others, and perhaps they will survival. Who knows the will on the Insep and their appetites? We will act, we will be prepared, but we will remain hidden, our final defense, as always.
Chapter 2
The doctor shuddered as another man was brought into the makeshift hospital. Until recently this had been a tent, the floors dirt underground and the occasional patient lying on a straw filled mattress. Now it was in a recently built wooden building, the large rooms filled with simple cots and those filled with groaning patients. Nurses wandered between the beds, dabbing at perspiring faces, trying to soothe the groaning patients, but not having much success.
The doctor left the room, walking to the council house where he ignored the lines of people asking for their necessities, ignoring the guards and walking into the greeting room. As always the council sat at the round table talking to a new arrival. They glanced up briefly from quizzing the man before them, shirtless and covered in whip lashes but only Simon excused himself, leaving another to continue the questioning while he and the doctor moved into a small side room.
"Any change?"
The doctor shook his head. "No, Simon. No change, just more patients, more of them lying there groaning and sweating. The only positive news is that there have been no deaths yet."
Simon swore, before leaning on the wall behind him. "Any ideas? What is this?"
"No, no ideas. I have never seen anything like this. It does not even look like any of the problems we have come across before. It is different to the golden hornet sting. Different to the venom from the needle trees, different to the sting from the bugs. Nothing in this world resembles it, nothing in our world resembles it."
Simon looked at him, "This IS our world! The old world belongs to the oppressors, to those who would have us all in their image. Learn, Doctor, learn about our home so we can overcome."
The doctor's shoulders slumped, his head dropped. "Don't misunderstand me Simon. I am committed to our home. I love our community despites its poverty, despite it being small, overcrowded and under resourced. But I am frustrated! I have never seen anything like this, magical or otherwise. It is not poison, it is no curse or magical malady that I can detect. No one is dying, but slowly everyone is becoming sick."
Simon looked at the doctor and frowned. "Are there no exceptions? Is there any particular group that does not appear affected? Or a group that appears most affected?"
"Exceptions? Yes there are exceptions. Those in the outlying settlements are not affected yet, those that are here all are sick, you me and everyone else. The only difference seems to be in the severity and the ability to handle it." He stopped, thinking, "but there are some that seem unaffected from the new arrivals. They have been complaining of headaches, but show no symptoms of whatever this is." He looked at Simon, "I have to wonder, are they carriers, deliberately spreading the disease while being immune or just lucky?"
Simon looked at him. "That is a worrying thought, that there may be those amongst us that are deliberately spreading this, whatever it is! Who are they?"
"Ethan the farmer, Bellasi who has taken over the maintenance and keeping the council house clean and Tirangali, the merchant and militia trainer."
"Ethan and Bellasi, they both seem harmless, no more than what they appear. Tirangali is different, far more to him than meets the eye. We are watching him anyway, he is not the food smuggler he would have us believe, more than one person has recognised him as one of the champion gladiators but no one knows what he did to be sent here. Thank you doctor, you have given me much to think about!"
Ethan brought more water to the sick children who lay in their beds sweating and moaning. They were both feverish, their faces flushed, complaining of sore bodies. They ate, they slept, they drank and got no worse, but after three days Ethan was at a loss. His own children had been sick in the past, but had always recovered quickly. He had gone into Dinnie's Landing for help, but things were worse there. The new hospital overflowed. The few doctors and nurses still on their feet were stumbling form patient to patient while volunteers ran with water and food, all the while drinking themselves. The sickness was killing no one, but soon they would die anyway when food started running out as no more was brought. The villages helped, leaving fish and vegetables to be collected from safe places, but they were struggling and soon they, too, would be under food pressure.
Ethan rested and his one chair, his feet up, his head tilting to one side as he dozed off. A knock on the door woke him, causing him to jump up, knocking over the chair as he tumbled to the ground. Groaning he stood up, clutching his banged buttocks and stumbling towards the door. He lifted the latch and a group of men pushed in, grabbing him. He started to protest but one clamped a hand over his mouth as they dragged him out.
He stumbled along, struggling to stay upright as they covered the distance from his hut to the council house, his mouth covered all the way. A few people looked at him curiously, but few people were about, and those that were seemed listless and not paying attention to anything around them. Ethan just followed on, not knowing what was going on, not knowing why they brought him there or refused to let him speak.
He was dragged in and forced to the ground in the greeting room next to two others. He recognised Bellasi from when they had met in line, but the other was a man he did not recognise but whom he had seen around from time to time. Bellasi sat there looking resigned, not putting up any resistance, the other man was red faced, one eye swollen shut, blood leaking from his mouth and chained in addition to the ropes around him and Bellasi.
He sat there, looking at Simon and the empty seats around the room. With the hand gone from his mouth he could speak again, but he remained silent, he did not see much point in talking given the circumstances.
"Ah, Ethan, glad to see you chose not to fight." Simon paused to wipe sweat from his forehead, his face red and flushed. Ethan could see that aside from the three bound on the floor, everyone in the room seemed to be ill to varying degrees.
"So Ethan, Ballasi and Tirangali I have a problem. Do you know what that problem is?" Simon paused and continued when there was no response. "It's a question, why are you three healthy when everyone else is ill? You three, all arriving on the same day and none of you are ill. Others who arrived that day are as sick as everyone else, just you three remain healthy. Can you tell me why?"
Ethan looked shocked at the news, EVERYONE was ill? Only he and two others were not. He was about to speak when there was a silent cough at the door. Everyone turned to look at an old man standing there. No one recognised him but, like the three bound prisoners he showed no signs of illness.
"Actually there were four that arrived that day who have no signs of illness. I am amongst them. He walked forward, ignoring the guards and coming between Simon and the prisoners. "I am Sinclair, one of those who have monitored and lived in hiding from the Holy Ones while trying to keep the knowledge and study of magic alive. You never saw me arrive, I was able to subvert the gate enough to allow me to arrive where I wished and I have remained in hiding ever since." He turned to one of the empty chairs, "Do you mind if I sit? I am an old man and cannot stand for too long?" He sat, not waiting for an answer, hiking his robes up to mid thigh as he did, revealing paste white, think legs with prominent veins.
"You want to know why we are healthy and all you sick? And soon all those in your surrounding villages as well?" He sighed, "I have spent the last few weeks watching, trying to gather information and all I really know is that we are not as alone as we thought. Others watch, others wonder about us, but I have no idea who they are or what they want. Someone has marked the four of us, singled us out when we came through the gate and now has rendered everyone else helpless. Clearly they wanted to get our attention and want the four of us to take action when nobody else could."
"Action, what action?" Tirangali spoke up, for the first time seeing a chance to do something rather than just be wrapped up in chains.
"Why, to go to them of course!" Sinclair looked at him. "You have had headaches, yes? Have you not noticed something strange about them?"
It then struck Ethan, yes, there was one thing he had noticed. "They are guiding us! When I sleep with my head towards the east the headaches go!"
Sinclair smiled, "Correct, and you three must go and see whom it is that summons you!"
"And why not you?" Simon looked at the self-proclaimed mage and archivist. "It seems to me that you have plenty of power and would be a perfect addition to the team."
Sinclair bowed his head. "It is true, I have power, far more than any in this room but I would not be a good addition to the team at all." A far away look came into his eyes, "I will be dead within the week. I am old, my magic leaking and it will soon overwhelm me. If my compatriots were here they would host the farewell feast and sing the honour songs as I took my life, but they are not so I will sing to myself and quietly drift away. Such is the way."
He laughed, breaking the contemplative mood he had been displaying, "it will be fun, really. I came through the gate because I wanted to see what was here. You are doing well in what you build and I am happy to give you this advice, but I cannot do more. Death cannot be negotiated with and I have lived long enough that he is a welcome old friend rather than a fearsome foe."
Tirangali spat on the ground. "And why should I do this? Help these people who beat me, bound me and threw false accusations at me?"
Before Simon could speak and offer apologies Sinclair spoke up. "You should do it to preserve yourself. Have you not noticed that the headaches are getting worse? That, plus the instigation of this illness shows that whomever wants to meet us grows impatient. I do not think it would be good for your health to remain behind…"
Tirangali glared at him, but remained silent, clearly his instinct for self-preservation was alive and well.
"Let them go, give them what they need." Simon spoke up. He had no reason to believe Sinclair aside from the obvious fact that the old man could just have remained in hiding and no one would have known. He wiped his forehead and sat down, his legs not wanting to hold him up. "Let them go. What other choice do we have but to hope that this old man is right." He finished speaking and passed out, the world fading to black as he looked at the three, tied and bound on the floor, looking silently at him.
Response to Review by HarbingerOfTheApocolypse
1. What races are in this story?
So far- humans, but read on...
2. Are you posting what they each specialize in in the next chapter? I.e: swords, dagger, magic, lock picking
It will come out in the story. I want to avoid 4th wall breaks and let it read as if they are people living in a world, growing as they learn rather than paper characters with a bunch of stats.
3. Will there be specific D&D items? I.e: profane scabbard, gloves of dexterity, etc...
As with 2, specific D&D names will not be used unless they are specific or needed for story purposes. What I am considering is posting Stat blocks at the bottom as we go on for both the characters and any custom or adjusted creatures at the bottom as we go on.
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