The sound of distant wailing came to Zeek and Anders ears. The cries of humans begging for food, others shouting in defense of their supplies. Anders and the boy stepped over the hilltop to see the smoldering remains of a village, many buildings lay collapsed. Surrounding the village was a sea of makeshift tents and disheveled people huddled in tight groups around campfires. The scene before them reminded Zeek of springtime twilight when thousands of fireflies light up and take to the sky dancing over the grasslands.
Anders took the lead as they both neared and Zeek ensured that his weapons were readied but sheathed. Anders spoke softly to Zeek “I don’t think I have to tell you to let me handle the talking. It’s not just goblins I have a way with, my magic works on most people too. Let me find out what's going on. Do your silent thing and try not to give off an aura of a lost 10 year old boy. Maybe act like my guard, my sweet Knighty. And step between anyone that tries anything creepy.” Anders looked back to see Zeek raising an eyebrow before giving her a slight nod.
As they neared the nearest group of people an older man spotted them and hollered out “Who ye be, creeping in the night?”
“Lost souls seeking safe haven for the night, perhaps a loaf of bread if any can be spared.” Anders responded, immediately the seven within the group joined the eighth as they looked in their direction. Anders gave them a slight pause to allow her magic to fade enough for a proper response.
“Ah, well that be true for the lot of us. Though, ye’ll find no guarantees of safety, nor spare rations to be had. Where did ye come from?” Responded the man as he reached the two.
“We come from Revena and have had a difficult time with our travels. Know that the city of Revena is no more, it stands silent and frozen.” Anders Said while looking over the sea of tents and campfires.
“Eh, Revena too.” Said a thin man as he joined the discussion “North then is no good, what happened young lassy?”
Anders had kept this to herself but felt she should share in order to get their story. Mistress Hues had trained Anders in the arts of barding and the ways of storytellers. A story for a story was the truest barter as each story carried some truth and some lies but knowledge still. “Two months past the Sun was blotted out as the sky filled with the scales of Frost Riders as they descended on the city. We escaped only to be hunted by goblins for nearly two months, losing them a few days past.” Anders said before she steadied herself from tearing up and continued “I saw only a few who escaped Frost Riders, where did all of you come from?”
“The coasts of the East, near’n every city-state lay under siege. Forces be new to the lands. Most in red fur coats, no flags waved nor scales did ‘em ride. Took the beaches like angry ants swarming fast to the seaside cities in a single day. Was no end either, next morn much the same. ‘Em red coats swarmed off the beaches deeper inland to the grassy plain cities. No warning to be had. Most ye see here are from the villages far inland and too distant to be swarmed the first days. Though if that's the truth of it, I’s couldn’t tell ye. I only saw the fires and the wave of red fur coats rolling through the plains. That’s all I’s needed, packed and here ye find me.“ Said the thin man.
Anders looked back at Zeek hoping to discern if any of this was familiar to the boy. Zeek’s expression had not changed, he simply locked eyes with her for a moment before he returned to keeping a watchful eye out on their surroundings.
“What happened to the village?” Anders asked “We were headed here in hopes of staying the night and then heading in towards the city of Arzick.”
“Oh, easy. The city lay in ruin at their own hands.” Said the heavier man who first spotted the two.
The thin man interrupted the first adding “Or camp whispers be tellin that it was the city Arzick and ‘em heroic Blue Calverley.” responded the thin man as he spat to the side “I’s thinkin the people Arzick have made a pact with these new forces or ‘em not want’n to take our sorry lot in for lack of feed.”
Anders knew little of the local politics. She could not grasp why the villagers or the city of Arzick would burn their own village. Her knowledge of the area largely rested on the lore that Arzick the Ancient Dream Dragon slumbered beneath the forest foothills. The dragon's pride was why nearly everything in the region was named after him. If the lore was wrong she could only imagine that the people in these parts simply liked to keep things simple.
“Is anyone in charge?” Anders asked
“Eh, many folk claim to be in charge. None helpful beyond that of the Sons of Loylel in the green tent right over there” said the first man.
“Thank you, we will be off then.” Anders responded as she turned towards the distant green tent.
The thin man stepped forward slightly and cleared his throat “I’s would like to join you’s, if’n you’s have me? Curiosity has my fingers tapping to no end. Would like to know a bit more now that ye’s marked off the North for refuge.”
Anders looked back at Zeek only to see the boy eyeing the thin man up and down. Zeek was just as tall as the thin man and for a 10 year old boy he was surprisingly far thicker. Anders really did believe that Zeek had some giant in him to be so young and yet so large.
Finally, Zeek turned his head to Anders and nodded in approval.
“Sure thing, you can join. I’m Anders and the bo… This is Borin, he is my keeper. I’d like you to stay in his sight while accompanying me.” Anders responded
“No worries lassy, I’s named after my father’s father. But I liked that name none so call me Dale. I’s gets my things and be with ye’s in but a tick” said Dale.
Dale returned with a small leather satchel draped over his shoulder. The satchel seemed deflated. Dale looked to be in his early thirties with thin short blond hair that bounced as he moved. A handful of scars could be seen running up his tan arms. His clothing seemed that of a beggar, but, that seemed common among the gathered people.
A quiet walk to the green tent of the Sons of Loylel was broken as Dale stated “I’s guessin’ you want to do the yapping. See’n as you got us to speak I’s guessin’ thats for the bests.”
Anders looked over and softly said to Dale “Yes Dale, keep your yapping to a naught just like our big friend Borin.”
Dale grinned over at Anders and gave a more cautious look at Zeek.
Anders took the lead and lifted the flap of the green tent. As she entered a few faces turned to look at her. One individual sitting behind a table looked up “Yes, and who are you?” he said.
“Anders of Revena, accompanied by Borin of Revena and Dale of the Eastern plains” Anders said as she stood in front of the man. Dale and Zeek stood behind her as more faces turned to look their way.
“Yes and what news of Revena?” asked the man.
“Fallen silent. Frozen solid. Frost Riders and their scales took our skies. I saw only a few escape.” Anders responded.
“First the East sees an endless horde sack city after city, then Arzick lifts its drawbridges like cowards and now word Revena sentinel fortress of the North has fallen. Shit, shit, shit situation. Any other news you care to share?” The man asked
“Only that goblins are in Arzick forest. We lost them a few days past” Anders responded.
“Oh hells with it all! Damion boy get over here!” The man was still sitting but now clearing his desk as he pulled parchment out and began scribbling in haste.
He spoke to the boy Damion “Take this and off with our fastest horse, hit the three nearest villages and spread word as you go. The North is no more. The Frost Riders and their scales took Revena.” The man finished stamping the folded parchment and handed it over to the boy who was being given a sack full of supplies as he raced out the tent.
The man sighed as he stood and leaned a bit over the table “Thank yo…..” The man's hand rose up as if to shake but froze before it reached Anders. The man's eyes locked on Zeek “Boy are you with the Order of the Edge?”
Every head had turned to face Zeek at the word Edge. Zeek stood motionless, all eyes in the room on him. Anders and Dale seemed a bit shocked as they turned to face him as well. Many in the room had drawn a blade or placed a hand on the hilt of their blades.
Zeek was both afraid and not afraid at the same time. These men had plate armor and large broadswords. A few were taller than himself. The only reason Zeek could maintain this stoic stillness was the fact that none of these men compared in size to his father nor did they have his father’s deep voice.
The situation was dangerous but none of these men made him feel the way his father did when he was being disciplined. Whenever his father started to lay into him it was always best to stand straight and listen keenly until opportunity arose to explain himself. In this situation Zeek couldn’t imagine what gave his connection to the Order of the Edge away. Perhaps the man at the table had an ability like that of Old Man Thane. Some ability to sense the name of another's core class. But that didn’t make sense as Zeek had not yet gotten his core class unlocked. At that moment Zeek followed one of the men’s eyes down to his chest.
Ah, it was the order’s pendant that hung on his necklace. Without his weighted training suit it was now more exposed. Zeek reached up with his right hand to lift the pendant up to his face. He smiled as he looked at it but this seemed to make those in the tent even more tense. A slight concern crossed his mind as he really didn’t know what to do in this situation. A single word spoken would be too soon. It was only two months ago that he last spoke.
He let the pendant fall back to his chest. He looked from one man to the next moving his gaze across the room giving some a slight nod. At this moment he felt a gentle sensation cross his mind as an image of a woman in transparent green light appeared. None in the room seemed to notice her. The woman looked at him for only the briefest of moments before leaning over to the man standing at the table and whispered in his ears. The man’s eyebrows rose as the woman faded away.
“Sheath your blades. The boy’s not to be made into an enemy. The goddess has spoken, do any here dispute my words?” The man said with a prideful glee as a smile formed on his face.
None spoke to dispute the man but many were slow to sheath their blades.
“You have your orders, sheath those blades or by the goddess’s own words I’m to have you spar with the boy in single combat. We all know the legends of their order, don’t be foolish”
All blades but one was sheathed. A gray haired man who had been seated the entire time spoke “Ay, it’s my blade to be his test. The goddess asked this old blade to spar in single combat. It’s an honor to have her voice whisper in my ear and make such a request. If you're with the Order of the Edge then that too is something close to an honor. Do you accept boy?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Zeek, confused at the turn of events, nodded slowly as he eyed the man who now closed in on him. The other men in the room made room for the man as he moved past them. The look on many of their faces was one of reverence and shock. Standing tall the man was perhaps half a head taller than Zeek and slightly wider.
The man stood in front of Zeek and asked “Now or in the morning? The goddess said to give you the option but that you would choose to spar in the moonlight.”
Zeek nodded yes and signaled with his hands in the ways of the woodland scouts “Moonlight. Battle.”
A voice from the back of the tent came from a smaller man “The boy knows the signals of Woodland Scouts. He says, Moonlight Battle.” Zeek looked at the smaller man and nodded his thanks.
The entire situation was out of Anders’ control. She softly said to herself “He’s only ten.”
Dale overheard her and looked over at Zeek before looking back at Anders “Loylel’s mercy that boy must of crippled his mother.”
Another man must have overheard the two as he spoke to them “That is the First Blade of Loylel. The greatest swordsman of the Sons of Loylel. We took it as an honor that he was assigned to us last year. We have not had reason to call on his blade in actual combat but he has bested every man in this room a hundred times over. The fights do not last long, he has no patience for mistakes and will end the fight by seizing the advantage the instant you make one.”
They made their way outside as men formed a circle around them. Torches were brought in but given the large space provided for the spar the amount of torchlight that reached the two was limited.
Zeek moved near the center and unsheathed his saber. Across from him the First Blade unsheathed his broadsword. Zeek had little experience against anything other than short-swords and sabers. His saber had a hilt fit for one hand and a guard with a few small spikes on it. The saber’s blade curved ever so slightly near the end.
The First Blade’s broadsword was longer by one third his own blade's length and far wider. It ran straight its entire length, likely much heavier overall. The hilt ended with a pommel, and was large enough only for a single hand to grip.
While Zeek wore only his cotton under-shirt, pants, and worn leather hunting shoes the First Blade wore plate armor chest to toe. Zeek could imagine that he would have speed and mobility on his side as well as a second blade, that of his dual bladed dagger strapped to his left side. However, he had to admit he was far less experienced than most. Obviously his age was a factor. The First blade likely would hit hard and carry more weight with his momentum as their blades clashed. Zeek did not ignore the fact that many in the tent had some awareness of the prowess of the Order of the Edge. His chances were slim that he could surprise his opponent with his dagger defense.
All this and still Zeek felt like he had a chance. The Keeper of Time had trained him and been forced to use time manipulation to avoid Zeek’s blade on numerous occasions. Even with time manipulation Zeek had been able to cut into the Keeper’s leather jacket. There was a chance.
The man who had been at the table joined them at the center “By the moonlight and the wishes of our goddess this spar is not to end in death. I’ll call out three times the name of Loylel, on the third you will begin. Do you both understand?”
They both nodded.
“Loylel” The man said.
“Loylel” The man said but now others had joined.
“Loylel” Every man said in harmony as the two opponents began to move.
The First Blade stepped forward slicing in a fast downward arc towards Zeek. Zeek noticed that everything seemed ever so slightly slow. His mind thought back to the fight with the goblins and how perhaps Ander’s bardic magic had not helped as much. Thinking quickly Zeek took the opportunity to pull his dagger out and catch the broadsword in the first swing. Zeek hoped this would be unexpected and provide him a real opportunity.
Zeek's left hand pulled out his dual bladed dagger. He aligned the gap with the incoming arc of the broadsword and caught it. Zeek twisted slightly to apply some resistance and began to swing his saber upwards to the pit of the left arm.
The broadsword fell free of the First Blade’s grip. As the blade fell free it twisted from the force of the dagger. Zeek’s eyes darted to see the unexpected disarming. As Zeek's eyes returned to his foe all he saw was darkness.
Anders shouted “Stop!” on the First Blade’s tenth hit to Zeek’s face. The boy was already falling back but the First Blade was moving with him. Somehow the First Blade had been disarmed, yet he simply stepped into Zeek's unprotected guard and began throwing punch after punch at the Zeek's face.
Zeek was in bliss, he disarmed the First Blade and in the darkness that followed he heard a thousand voices calling out for his attention. Slowly one voice rose above all others.
“Zeek, it’s time to choose” an inner voice deep like his fathers thundered through to his very core. His voice joined and slowly his own and that of his inner voice fell into perfect harmony “I choose the way of the edge. To stand strong at my sister's side. To face any that threaten the lives of those I love…” An image of a griffin flashes before Zeek's mind. The griffin flying past a colossal pendulum swinging across time itself. “...I choose my own path…” Time stopped as the voice burst with color forming ancient characters that then transitioned into woodland scout hand signals and slowly changed to strange text within his mind. He understood it all, though he had never seen these foreign marks it all made sense.
[Human] Zeek Camion
Lineage: Psionic Break [Mind Attribute Pool Doubled]
Age: 10
Attribute Points: 41 [Simplified]
Mind: 15 [30] Body: 17 Spirit: 9
[Core Class] Talon’s Edge of Morrow [Pioneer]
First of the followers of Morrow. The Talon’s Edge of Morrow is the chosen weapon of both past and future. Your mind fills with the records of greatest edge barriers from the Order of the Edge. Your blade’s pull at the fabric of time granting intuition that subtly pulls your sword swings towards a beneficial outcome. The Talon’s Edge of Morrow is gifted with abilities of sword arts and Claircognition.
Boon of the Pioneer [Talon’s Edge of Morrow]
A Pioneer explores the paths yet untraveled. Your strengths and weaknesses are unknown to both yourself and others. None shall know the ways to ease your journey. A boon upon you is granted. A Pioneer may share their path and mastered abilities more easily with those that wish to learn.
Unlocked Abilities 2 of 5
[Passive] Pendulum’s Arc- Step 1 of 10 [Novice]
Ability: Your actions bring restoring force to the fabric of time. When you successfully complete fabric mending tasks issued by the Grand Masters of the domains of past [Keeper Thane] and future [Seer Petra] you gain three attribute points to distribute at your will. Should you fail to complete a task, bringing chaos to fabric, you shall have three attribute points randomly deducted from your pooled attributes.
[Action] Spectral Talon Strike - Step 1 of 10 [Novice]
Ability: You may infuse your blade’s edge with a spectral griffin talon. Once the blade edge makes contact with a being or item a spectral talon will rip through with up to four times the force of the blade. The spectral talon has a small chance to bypass armor.
[Augment Class] Psionic Mutist
Witness to a horrific act of violence. The death of your father and your psionic cries for help have spurred a being of higher power to offer you an augmentation. You have accepted this offer. Augmentation of the Psionic Mutist. For each day you remain mute both in tongue and psionic communication a single point of luck is added to your hidden luck pool. Upon speaking a single word you release all pooled luck gained through this augmentation. The released luck is transferred as compensation for waking a higher power. In a gesture of good will this being may grant you a single act, item, or boon within 48 hours.
Luck Attribute Pool: [Hidden]
Unlocked Abilities 2 of 5
[Passive] Mind Shield - Step 4 of 10 [Adept]
Ability: Your mind is shielded from psionic intrusions and manipulations.
-Adept at the use of this ability you now can identify those within sight that attempt to intrude or manipulate your mind.
[Passive] Enhanced Apathy - Step 1 of 10 [Novice]
Ability: You may remain detached and emotionally stable during short but extremely traumatic events.
The deep inner voice returned “As a Pioneer you may select one unlocked ability to immediately advance its rank from novice to adept. Please make your selection immediately or lose this boon”
Zeek had been informed by his sister Petra that any ability that allowed for changes to your attribute pool was hard to get and should be focused on. He considered this and thought of no reason to doubt his sister.
Zeek did not speak into his own mind but instead mentally selected the Pendulum’s Arc.
[Core Class] Talon’s Edge of Morrow [Pioneer]
Boon of the Pioneer
has advanced
[Passive] Pendulum’s Arc - Step 1 of 10 [Novice]
to
[Passive] Pendulum’s Arc - Step 4 of 10 [Adept]
[Passive] Pendulum’s Arc- Step 4 of 10 [Adept]
Ability: Your actions bring restoring force to the fabric of time. When you successfully complete fabric mending tasks issued by the grand-masters of the domain of past [Keeper Thane] and future [Seer Petra] you gain five attribute points to distribute at your will. Should you fail to complete a task, bringing chaos to fabric, you shall have three attribute points randomly deducted from your pooled attributes.
-Adept at the use of this ability you can now gain a sense for the trajectory of the Pendulum of Time. Individuals that oppose the Pendulum’s trajectory will now be known to you one day in advance of their opposition.