Year 3043 AGD

Month: Ragnós

Fourth Firstday

Continent of Terroval

Southwest of Stalwart

West of Blood Orc Encampment

“What is that thing?” Victor asked, as he and Elandria scouted the area on the western side of the ravine where the blood orcs were encamped.

Following the direction of Victor’s pointing finger, Elandria looked through some bushes at some sort of animal in the distance. Elandria had been glad when Victor had asked if he could tag along with her. She always hated scouting, and she loathed scouting alone. There was something else, though, and she had been trying to deny it for a long time. It was undeniable once Victor had asked to come; Elandria felt safer with Victor around. She couldn’t figure out why, and for the longest time she had told herself it was foolish. But now, looking down at the young boy, she knew that as long as she was by his side, she had nothing to fear from anything.

“It’s a long way away, Victor. At least it’s good to know those eyes of yours are for more than being pretty,” she laughed softly as Victor’s face scrunched up in something somewhere between anger and suspicion. “I am pretty sure it’s a Storm Ram; not many seen this far from the mountains, but it’s not unheard of.”

“Why is it called a Storm Ram?” Victor asked softly, as he continued in the direction of the beast.

“Well, they say that a group of them sounds like thunder when they are on the run. I’m not quite sure how it works—you’ll have to ask a Warden about that one. They are the ones who usually train those things for riding. Great animals for traversing rocky terrain.”

Both of them continued to scan the area as they neared the great ram, and Elandria couldn’t help herself from gaping at the ram they were approaching. She realized that it was bigger than any other she had heard of, and its coat reminded her of a storm cloud, especially in the light breeze that was blowing through the trees. She watched as the grey and white fur rolled in the breeze. So wrapped up in her observations had she been that she didn’t notice the saddle and gear that was on the ground near the creature until they were about fifty yards from it. The creature looked up at their approach but didn’t seem to worry about it. It lowered its head and continued to graze on the moss at the base of one of the large fir trees.

“Is that a pack?” Victor asked, pointing to the bundle near the ram.

“Yes, this must be a Warden’s mount.” She did a sweep of the area around the ram to see if she could find any signs that anyone else was around. After circling the beast twice, she could find no trace of anyone else going through. “Well, if anyone has gone through here, they were very light and very good.”

Victor looked at her quizzically. “Very light?”

“Yes,” she whispered, motioning for him to follow. “You see, his hoof prints are the same depth for as far back as I can see. That tells us that if someone was riding this creature, they weren’t heavy enough to make much of a difference once they got off, or that there was no one on the ram to begin with.”

She loved the way that Victor carefully thought about everything that he was being taught. Most people she had explained such things to had absorbed the information as if that was all there was to the matter and moved on. Victor, however, would learn something new and decide if there were other ways he could use the information in relation to the other things he knew. Looking at him now, with the look of concentration on his face, she felt a pang of sadness. He’s one of the most serious people I have ever met, she thought softly. Someone that young shouldn’t have to take things so seriously.

“Well, we can’t learn anything from over here; let’s see if the beast will let us near him to find out what information we can gather from the packs,” Elandria said aloud.

“Okay,” Victor replied.

As the two turned and moved within throwing distance of the creature, it stopped chewing and looked straight at the two. Both of them froze under the gaze of such a large beast. It seemed to consider the two as it cocked its head sideways one way, and then the other. The ram raised its head into the air as if trying to catch their scents. After a moment, it lowered its gaze back towards Victor. Another moment passed before it moved over towards the bags and put its mouth on the saddle’s pommel.

Elandria was surprised when the ram did this, and then it started toward the two. Immediately, her first reaction was to grab for her bow, but Victor’s hand softly grabbed hers before she could move it a few inches. She looked down at the boy and found that he was looking at the beast in the same manner that it had been considering them only moments before. Without a word, Victor started forward slowly towards the approaching ram.

“What are you doing?” Elandria’s voice came out in a sharp whisper.

“It’s fine; he won’t hurt us,” Victor said in a manner that calmed her so much that after a moment, she got mad at herself for listening.

Victor and the ram approached each other, and Elandria resisted the urge several times to pull the bow from her back and string it. Any thought she had about the animal being dangerous, however, was abated when it dropped the gear only a few feet from Victor and lowered its head in what appeared to her to be a bow. Victor lowered his head in the same manner and went over to the packs.

“Someday, you and I are going to have a talk on how you do things,” Elandria said accusingly, but when Victor looked up at her, it was apparent that he had no idea what she was talking about. He turned back towards the packs and started rummaging through them. She decided that she would let Victor go through them first, while she kept her eyes on the ram who seemed to be watching the boy intently.

“I would say that no one has ridden this big boy in some time,” Victor stated with conviction. “From the looks of this strap, he undid it himself, and there are a few sets of teeth marks on the pommel, which tells us that he has moved it around before. From the tracks you showed me, he came from the east.” Victor sat back on his heels and started thinking. “Dunnagan Stormhammer was a Warden, wasn’t he?” he asked.

Elandria looked down at the boy as if he had just struck her in the face. Why didn’t I think of that? “Yes, he is. You don’t ever really stop being a Warden, Victor, it’s kind of like being a Knight. You may not hold the job anymore, but you never lose the position. You think this is Dunnagan’s mount?”

Victor shrugged at her in a non-committal manner and walked towards the ram. He raised the saddle and threw it onto the creatures back and began setting the bridle without complaint from the ram. In fact, as she watched, it appeared as if the ram was helping him with the setting of the gear. After he finished cinching the strap, he propelled himself upward into the stirrup and into the saddle.

“I think we had better take him back to Nim; he will probably know for sure,” Victor said calmly.

With that, the ram started at a slow walk towards where the troop had set up a base camp. Elandria only shook her head as she watched Victor continue on. She kept a trot alongside the beast and had trouble watching her surroundings. Who are you? She asked silently towards Victor. As if some part of him had heard the question, Victor looked at her jogging beside him and smiled softly before looking straight ahead once more.

“Rider coming,” the druid named Warren called back to the camp. It was one of the few things that Nim had heard from the man since taking command of McDowell’s squad. He went over next to Warren, who stood there with eyes that were an unnatural dark green and hair as dark as dirt. Try as he might though, Nim couldn’t see anyone approaching.

“Um, I don’t see anyone, Warren,” Nim said cautiously.

“Of course not, they won’t be in sight for another minute or so,” the Druid said in a tone that might have been condescending.

“Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me. Why would I think they were in sight?” Sarcasm dripped from Nim, his tone expressing that he was not amused.

Letting out a sigh, the man turned to Nim. “The trees told me,” he said flatly.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say that to start?” Nim said quite seriously.

Taken aback by Nim’s easy manner, Warren just stared at him. Nim knew that the man wasn’t used to people accepting the fact that he communed with nature so intimately. In fact, Nim was quite sure that some openly scoffed such attachments. However, Nim knew that druids could do something on the same level as mages and priests, bending natural energies to their wills. After seeing some of the things that had happened ‘naturally,’ Nim wondered if this man might harness more power than either the mages or priests.

“Do you know who it is?” Nim asked him a few seconds later.

“No, sir,” the man said with a newfound respect. “All they say is that a large four-legged beast treads upon their roots, and the creature’s head and that of its rider brush their branches. They also say that there may be another pair of feet walking next to the beast, masked by the vibrations of the creature’s feet.”

Nim nodded to the man. It was only a few moments after the man had finished talking that Nim was able to see something moving in the distance. Whatever it was, it was large. The first thing he saw come out of brush was the head, quickly followed by the massive horns on the ram’s head. The rider on the things back was small, nearly hidden, behind the thing’s head and its shaggy coat. The person that trod beside the great creature, however, was unmistakable to Nim; even from this distance, he recognized the lithe figure of Elandria. The massive bow she carried with her also identified her well.

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“That is Elandria on the right, so I’m assuming that Victor is on the ram.” Nim laughed. “How he got up there I couldn’t guess. How it didn’t kill him when he did it confounds me even more so.” Shaking his head, he walked towards his companions, followed closely by Warren.

“Hi, Nim!” Victor called out as he stood up on the ram’s back, waving.

Nim heard Warren chuckle beside him. Everyone in the squad had taken to Victor, and he brought a brightness with him that they hadn’t had in these bleak times. The boy had that effect on people. Nim wished he knew how Victor did it, but he had to admit that even he felt more comfortable when his young friend was around. Elandria looked up at Victor and shook her head.

“We came upon this brute when we were on patrol. It was the only thing we found the whole time except for a few squirrels. Victor just walked up to the thing and saddled it,” Elandria said in a tone that said she did not approve.

“Oh, he’s nice,” Victor said.

Warren walked past Nim and went up to the ram. He put his hand on the creature’s head and bowed his own. Victor had to lean to see the man, and Nim nearly leapt to catch Victor. There was no need, however. Victor was perfectly balanced in his precarious position.

“What’s he doing?” Victor asked Nim. If the boy had noticed Nim’s move as anything more than coming beside him, he didn’t show it. Elandria, however, had a small smile on her face. As she stood only inches away, obviously she had thought Victor was bound to plummet also.

“My guess is that he is talking with the ram,” Nim said.

“Oh, okay,” Victor replied.

Nim looked at Victor and shook his head. He then looked at the druid, who now stood smiling up at the Victor.

“From all I can gather from Thunder, he is Dunnagan’s companion. He is also a very smart creature. It appears that whatever ability you have with people also works on animals,” Warren said. “Intelligent ones, at least,” he added.

Victor, of course, just looked at the man in confusion. Nim knew that Victor had no idea of his effect on people. For now, he thought that was for the best.

“You two must be tired, go get something to eat. Did the ram…”

“Thunder,” Warren said.

“… did Thunder see the terrain where Dunnagan, Ashur, and Shawnrik were captured?” Nim remembered Thunder, and this couldn’t be that beast. For one, it was bigger. It also seemed much more intelligent than Nim remembered the ram being. There were some similarities, however, so he conceded that it could be one of the original Thunder’s offspring.

“Yes, sir, he said that Dunnagan and his companions took a small trail up the side of the ravine west of here. I can take you to it. He also says that the ones who captured Dunnagan took their horses.” Warren stood there looking uncomfortable, and Nim raised an eyebrow giving the signal for him to continue. “From the images I gathered, sir, there are at least two dracair assassins in there.”

Nim whistled softly. “Great,” he mumbled under his breath, turning towards the camp. Warren and Thunder followed him as he walked to the rest of the men, who sat around a small campfire. “Put some dirt on that,” Nim said pointing to the fire. “Everyone, look sharp.” The camp had all quieted, and now their attention was on Nim. “How many patrols do we have still out?”

“Four,” the dwarf, Rundig, answered quickly. “The one to the north that Zander took, and the one that is scouting the west.”

Nim swore, and everyone was now on their feet checking their gear.

“What’s wrong, sir?” Za’kereth asked.

“We have reason to believe there are at least two Dracair assassins in the ravine to the west,” Nim said flatly. He had found that keeping information like this from people usually got them killed.

His statement brought even more cursing, and now everyone was pulling their extra weapons they kept in their packs. Soon, the camp was bristling with more weapons than an armory, half of which appeared to be on Rundig and Corporal Jameson. Like Ashur, these men had only one job, and they did it well. While the rest of the squad had other duties, these two men were pure fighters. Every weapon on them would be used with precision, and they knew that, besides Nim, they would stand the best chance against a Dracairei.

“I want the watch doubled. Four-hour shifts. Someone try to contact Zander,” Nim said as he equipped the rest of his weapons.

“Yes, sir,” Jameson said saluting. “Za’kereth…”

“On it,” the grey elf wizard said quickly.

“Sir, may I ask where you are going?” Jameson said cautiously as Nim started at a quick walk out of the camp.

“West,” Nim said. “And put out that damn fire!”

Victor and Elandria started to follow Nim on his way out, making them pause. “Where do you think you are going?!”

“With you,” they both intoned at the same time.

“Oh, no you’re not. You have both already been out for more than a few hours. I can’t have you losing focus halfway through. Stay here and rest. You’ll need your energy soon enough.” Nim half turned to go and saw Elandria start to protest. “That’s an order, Private!”

Elandria stiffened and saluted. “Yes, sir!” One thing they instilled in every recruit was that you saluted your officers. Nim had never expected it of people, and he had always told the soldiers that he was retired when they tried. When he gave orders, however, it was clear that he was still a soldier. Victor thought about following Nim anyway—after all, he wasn’t officially in the knights—but he realized that Nim was right. He was tired from the morning’s outing, and he wouldn’t be much use anyway.

“Zander said he will meet you near the ridge,” Za’kereth yelled at Nim as he was nearing the edge of the clearing.

Nim didn’t turn around; all he did was wave to convey that he had heard.

The evening light was fading when Nim and Zander came into view, with six bows trained on them.

“I’m glad that you are all paying attention, but the first one that shoots at me loses a leg,” Nim said quite seriously. That would have normally brought a laugh from the men, but they noticed that there were no others with the two, and they knew what that meant. No one wanted to ask, because everyone knew, but the question needed to be voiced.

“What about the patrol?” Elandria asked.

Nim simply shook his head.

“We found Paul, most of him. No sign of Traville though. My guess is they took him back for questioning.” Zander went to his gear and removed the few weapons he carried with him. Victor thought that Traville wouldn’t talk. What he didn’t realize, and what everyone else did, was that Zander really meant torture when he said question. The Dracairei were known for their questioning techniques, and they knew that the man wouldn’t survive the night, whether he talked or not.

“We scouted the area.” Nim stepped into the role he had left years before. He would mourn the dead when there was time; for now, however, there was work to be done. “We will break camp an hour after midnight. That gives us about four hours of rest, I expect you to take it. I know I will.”

Zander took out a roll of parchment from a case he carried on his back and handed it to Sergeant McDowell. “Here is a map of the ravine. There are a lot of blood orcs down there. I couldn’t get a good look in the tunnels they have, though—there was a magic ward on them. Do what you can with this, I’m going to take Nim’s advice and rest.” With that, he went over to his gear and laid down.

Victor had been trying to do as little as possible that evening, but he knew he had to get some sleep. Several others went to their places they had laid out for sleeping and followed suit. The rest went over the map Zander had given McDowell or stood watch. Victor was tired, but he didn’t think he would be able to sleep; after only a few minutes, though, he was out.

“Welcome,” Victor heard, and looked up. He found himself in a room decorated in red murals, scenes of depravity depicted all about him. Two men stood on a dais in front of him near a large basin. The first thing he noticed about them was their blood red robes.

“Hello, Victor,” the other man said. Victor didn’t like the fact that the man knew his name. The man who spoke first was an older man; his head was cleanly shaved, and his grin sent a chill through Victor. The second man was much younger and had more of a trapped dog look, as if any wrong move could mean his death. It was obvious to Victor that the old man was the master, and he didn’t enjoy the knowledge that blood mage was most likely a cruel teacher.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Victor said with a wry smile.

“Ah yes, forgive my rudeness,” the older one said with his mordant grin. “My young companion is Temendri, and I am called Yandarian. We are of the order of Relikos.”

“Blood mages,” Victor snarled.

Yandarian nodded. “Most call us thus. We are glad that you finally chose to fall asleep. If you hadn’t, all of your friends would be dead by morning.” He said this with such conviction that Victor knew the man was quite sure what he said was true. Victor’s eyes narrowed as he examined these two men.

“What does my falling asleep have to do with anything?”

“Why, Victor. It is the only time that we can penetrate the defenses someone has set upon you. They have been upon you since your birth. Now, as to what your falling asleep has to do with your friends’ survival, it’s very simple. Sometime early this morning, your friends will assault the outpost we have let the blood orcs establish. There is, within the caves, a rune of transport. We have a company of Dracani and Magnus Dracani ready for transport to the location. There are also a handful of Dracairei already inside the encampment. Your friends are good, but even they cannot withstand that many Dracair and three hundred orcs.” The old mage spoke of his friends’ death as one would speak of the weather over tea.

Victor didn’t like where this conversation was going. These were men belonged to the order that had taken Shaylyn away from him. In fact, from the way these two talked, it was probably one, if not both, of them. He considered all the possibilities of where this conversation could be going, and one possibility kept coming to the forefront.

“You want me to come to you, or you will kill my friends,” Victor stated. It was not a question—he knew it was the only possible reason why they would be doing this. He just didn’t understand why. What do they want me for?

“You are very astute for one your age. I wish that I could train you myself.” Temendri was visibly shaking now, and Victor knew that the man saw Victor as a threat to his position. Yandarian looked over at his young apprentice and smiled. “I’m afraid, however, that is not my job. That is reserved for another.”

“You must listen to me very carefully. There is a secret cave a dozen paces southwest of the path into the ravine. If you sneak away from your friends when the action has begun and go to this cave, we will not send in our troops, and the Dracairei will be recalled.” Victor scowled as Yandarian spoke. “Not only this, but I shall have one of them aid your friends’ escape from the inside before he leaves.” With that, the scowl faltered.

“Why would you help?” Victor asked cautiously.

“My dear friend, they are unimportant. We only used them so that you would come. What do we care if a few orcs die? Besides, some of your party will still, in all probability, die by the hands of the orcs. They may not be entirely bright, but they are not unskilled in war,” Temendri said nearly gleefully.

Yandarian scowled at his subordinate. “It is true, some may die still, but that is better than all of them. It is also likely that your friends on the inside will survive, whereas they would die first should you not come, and the rest of your party and yourself would soon join them. You must not tell anyone of this.”

Victor, time to get up.

“It appears the time draws near,” Yandarian said with a face like stone. Victor wanted to yell at the man, to tell him to burn in the nine hells, but he felt himself being pulled away.

“Wake up.”

He felt a soft kick to his side before he sat up.

“What’s wrong? Bad dream?” Zander said as he stopped himself from kicking Victor’s side again.

“Yeah, something like that,” Victor said as he got his gear together.