by Tiger Hebert
Vacinne hadn’t, though, at least not yet. She just smiled.
King Goldenhall said, “Renlar, I hope Master Dahlheim’s creations meet your needs.”
Renlar was incredulous. “Meet my needs? These are far more than what I asked for, great king.”
The king said, “It was only appropriate.”
Renlar said, “The blades alone would have been more than enough, and these are crafted by a master swordsmith. For that alone I am grateful, but the enchantments are more than I can afford.”
Vacinne cut in, “How do enchantments work?”
Dahlheim spoke up. “There are different types of enchantments. Most are done through sorcery. These, however, were done by a Riftborn.”
Vacinne’s expression twisted as her confusion only grew.
Dahlheim continued, “Some Riftborn have an ability to imbue objects with powers. We are fortunate enough to have one such Riftborn.”
Renlar arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware of an infuser in Drenamere. They are quite rare.”
“Let’s not worry about all the petty little details. You needed new weapons, we made it happen,” said King Goldenhall.
Vacinne said, “Thank you both.”
Renlar echoed her sentiments, then asked, “Why so much?”
The king was slow to answer, first letting out a long sigh. “My city is well guarded. Our walls are indeed high, and our fighting force is built to defend it well. That being said, the Rift Wardens are a dangerous foe. Should the cancer within the temple not be cut off before it’s too late, then it won’t be long before this valley turns into a war zone.”
The king removed his crown long enough to run his fingers through his thinning, gray hair. “I am confident that against the Wardens alone we could defend our walls. The cost would be high, but we could prevail. We can’t assume that we would fight the Wardens alone though. If the corruption spread to the point of an all-out war, that means that they are still in league with the demons. Even my dwarven pride is not so foolish to think we could defeat both without catastrophic losses.”
The king’s pale blue eyes bored into Vacinne, then Renlar. “Drenamere will prepare for war, but I need you to do whatever it takes to stop that war from ever happening. Drive your blackened blades through as many corrupt hearts as it takes to save my people. Take these weapons and whatever supplies you need to make it happen.”
Renlar stared back into the king’s fearful eyes for a long moment, before nodding.
King Goldenhall started to walk away, then he stopped and said, “Save my people from war, and you’ll never need to work again, Black Blade.”
3
Inner Demons
Vaccine and Renlar were ready to go. They had their gear on, their packs were filled, and the king had offered up some ponies for their journey. They were ready to go, but Renlar had to make one more stop. His knuckles wrapped on the wooden door.
“Hold on.”
The door swung open, revealing the grinning, blue face with silver eyes.
“Good morning, Draece,” said Vacinne.
“Skullie,” said Renlar.
Draece pretended to not hear Renlar. “Good morning, Warden Vacinne.”
Renlar chuckled.
Vacinne said, “We’re about to be off. Are you sure you’re not coming with us?”
Draece shrugged. “Yeah, I think I’ll have to pass on this one. The Wardens have never been too fond of me.”
“I’ve learned to tolerate you, sort of,” offered Vacinne glibly.
“Draece, as much as I hate to admit it, we need you,” said Renlar.
The Nathrene crossed his arms. “Sorry Blackie. I helped you catch your Warden and the vorthor. I think I’m going to sit this one out.”
Vacinne started, “Do you realize how many people will die if a war—”
Renlar cut her off, “We’re going to get rich, Skullie. King Goldenhall has already been more than generous, and he is willing to pay handsomely to keep his city from war.”
Vacinne saw a flicker in the Nathrene’s silver eyes.
She said, “The king is frightened of the prospect of this war. He seems willing to avoid it at all costs.”
Draece looked back and forth between the two of them. His eyes shifted back and forth but remained uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments.
“What say you, Draece?” implored Renlar.
Draece licked his lips, then he said, “She’s going to be able to walk right through their front door, but you, you’re going to need help getting in. I’ll come with you to help you get behind the walls. That’s it. It’s where I draw the line. I’m not stepping one foot inside that tower. It’s not going to happen. I just help get you in, then I’m out.”
Renlar and Vacinne smiled at each other, then back at Draece.
Draece sighed. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as you put on some pants,” said Vacinne.
Draece looked down and realized he was still in his undergarments. “Oh, right.”
“We’ve got three ponies saddled and waiting for us at the palace gate,” said Renlar.
Draece retrieved his pants from the floor and pulled them on. “Three, huh? So, you just assumed that I’d come along on this stupid plan of yours.”
“Yep,” said Renlar as he held out the third pack.
“What’s this?” asked Draece as he pulled his boots on.
Renlar said, “It’s your pack. The usual, bed roll, food, extra clothes.”
“You know, you’re a presumptuous prick sometimes,” grumbled Draece.
“Yep, and I’m never wrong,” said Renlar with a laugh.
“Cocky too,” added Draece.
Vacinne said, “You didn’t possibly think you cornered the market on cockiness, did you?”
Draece frowned, not finding anything humorous.
“Alright Skullie. I hope you’ll reconsider, because we could really use you,” said Renlar.
Draece reiterated his position. “I’ll get you in.”
Vacinne asked, “What then?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Where are you going next? You can’t possibly be going back to Trader’s Haven,” said Vacinne, her face showing disgust at the mere thought of that miserable village.
“I do have a few matters to attend to there, but I was thinking about heading home. We’re already on winter’s doorstep, and I’m not sure that I’m really interested in another long freeze,” said Draece as he pulled on his cloak.
Renlar raised an eyebrow. “You’re actually thinking of returning to Nas’nethar?”
Draece nodded as he reached out and took the pack from Renlar’s still outstretched hand. “Yeah. It’s been a long time coming.”
“Aren’t you wanted there—dead or alive?” asked Renlar.
“Like I said, that was a long time ago,” said Draece.
Vacinne chuckled, “What did— You know what, I don’t want to know.”
“That’s probably for the best,” nodded Draece in agreement. “Alright, let’s get out of this place.”
The three made their way down to the palace gate. Just as the king promised, three saddled ponies awaited them. They wouldn’t cover ground like horses, but it sure beat walking all the way to the Kothari Temple. They mounted up and departed the king’s palace. Drenamere’s main gate was on the western side of the city and was only a few minutes ride from the palace gate. Renlar told her that the ride west to the temple would only take a day and that they would be there shortly after nightfall.
The mere thought of it all sent Vacinne’s heart racing. Returning to the temple, to the source of the corruption within her order would be the culmination of her whole journey, and it scared the hell out of her. The thought of having to find a way to identify the extent of the corruption and then how to eliminate it was completely overwhelming to her. Her mind raced.
What am I thinking? Who are we to think we can stop the Grand Master? What if it’s th
e whole order? No, it can’t be. But what if it was? Was everything around me a lie the entire time? Could I really have been so naive and blind? What about uncle Vichont? No, there’s no way.
A noise snapped Vacinne from her runaway thoughts.
“Leaving so soon, are ye?” asked a gruff voice.
Vacinne’s head turned to the cloaked figure that leaned against the city’s outer wall. As their ponies continued to canter toward the large gate, the figure pulled back his hood.
“Thrazen! I didn’t think we’d see you again,” said Vacinne.
“Aye, the King doesn’t take too kindly to Dirt Dogs. I had to make a timely, and necessary departure, you must understand,” said the dwarf with a grin.
Renlar said, “Understood my friend.”
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t slip away without saying goodbye,” said the dwarf.
“This doesn’t have to be goodbye,” replied Vacinne.
“Aye, for me it does. I’ve got friends to bury, and an organization to run now,” said Thrazen.
Vacinne asked, “So this makes you the leader of the pack?”
“Indeed.”
Vacinne’s smile faded and was replaced with a look filled with sorrow. “Thrazen, I’m sorry for all of your loss—”
“Don’t be,” he said, cutting her off. “That bastard is to blame, and we killed him. If the two of you had not come, this city would be ash and ruin already. The demonic invasion would have gone unnoticed until it was too late, and everyone here would have died.”
Tears filled Vacinne’s crystal blue eyes. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. She nodded instead.
Thrazen walked up to her. He exchanged glances with all three of them. “Go find the man responsible for this. Cut his damned head off and send him to the Nine!”
Vacinne fought back her tears. She met the dwarf’s eyes with a steel resolve. “We will.”
“I know.”
Those were the last words Thrazen shared with them. He pulled the hood of his cloak back over his head. He patted her pony on the rear, and he walked off back into the city. Vacinne turned and watched the cloaked dwarf walk down the busy street, then he was gone, lost in the hustle and bustle of the city streets.
Vacinne blinked. But Thrazen was indeed gone. She shook her head, then turned back to the road ahead. She urged her pony forward, along with Draece and Renlar. They passed through the city’s open gates. The mere sight of them sent her mind off and running again.
She examined the height of the walls. The crenelated walls that wrapped around the city were fifty feet high, with battlements across its entire length. Quite honestly it was overkill for the most part, because the way that the city was nestled into the mountain’s armpit, there were actually only a few spots that could even be attacked by an army. Three spots to be precise; the eastern side of the city, South Road, and this spot, the main gate on the city’s western side. The rest of the walls that circled the city were either backed by towering cliffs or overlooked steep drops.
Vacinne couldn’t help but think about what might happen, should they fail in their mission. Should they fail to sever the head of the corruption, and extract the poison, war was entirely possible. There was no way of knowing what would or would not happen at this point, but she couldn’t help but imagine the worst.
Afterall, Grand Master Jherenon specifically targeted Drenamere. He purposely sent Masoc here. It was no accident, it was the plan all along, thought Vacinne.
She surveyed the landscape ahead of them. The towering walls and the massive iron gates that they’d just passed through would be a challenge for any force. The terrain wouldn’t be any better either. The plateau just outside of the gates was fairly small. Were a force attempting to siege the city, it wouldn’t have much terrain to work with. It would be very close quarters. Not to mention that from the outside, the walls actually curved inward toward the city, with the gate being at the deepest part of the arc. At first it seemed odd to her, then she realized the entire shape was that of a funnel.
Bloody brilliant! Woe to any force foolish enough to siege this city.
Vacinne realized that as long as the enemy wasn’t inside their walls, that the dwarves of Drenamere would probably be able to take care of themselves. She didn’t want to find out though. War was ugly in all its facets and it was never without casualties.
No. Jherenon, we’re coming for you.
Vacinne shifted her attention and focus to the road ahead of her as the pony plodded toward the massive bridge ahead of them. It was roughly three wagons wide and it was constructed with a dark charcoal colored granite with swirls of gold throughout. Vacinne urged her pony away from her companions, who chatted on and on about something. As her pony drew close to the side of the bridge, Vacinne’s view of the gorge improved. The canyon was deep. One step off the bridge would take someone hundreds of feet straight down into the crashing rapids of the river that rushed through the gorge below.
The natural divide was just another of the many layers of protection offered to the people of Drenamere. Vacinne tried to convince herself that the people of Drenamere would be just fine, but the weight upon her did not diminish. The weight of all Durghast still pressed down upon her shoulders. She wouldn’t have peace until this quest was over and the Wardens were cleansed of demonic taint.
“... Vacinne, are you still with us?”
The voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned her eyes from the deep gorge to the companions that traveled across the bridge with her. She saw Draece on the pony next to her.
“What was that?” she asked.
“You seem like you were off in another world?” he remarked.
Vacinne nodded. “Something like that.”
“You all right?” he asked.
Vacinne looked into the man’s silver eyes. No matter how many times she looked at him, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to their peculiar color. But the strange hue was not the only thing that she saw when she looked into his eyes this time. She saw genuine concern in his eyes, something she hadn’t recalled seeing there before.
“Uh, yeah, I’ll be fine. I just... I just want this over with,” she muttered.
Draece’s smile melted away. “I can only imagine the pressure you are feeling right now. Going back to the temple after everything you’ve learned is probably frightening.”
Vacinne nodded, but said nothing.
Draece looked at her then shot a glance and a nod toward Renlar who rode a little ways ahead of them. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a pretty tough broad and you’ve got some skill with the blade and you are really starting to come into your powers. Just make sure you stick closer than a shadow to that one.”
Vacinne’s eyes followed Draece’s gaze toward Renlar. “He’s incredible, isn’t he?”
“He’s the best. The best that any of us have ever seen. He’s saved my life more times than I deserve.”
Vacinne watched Renlar from behind as he rode forward, unaware of their conversation.
She asked, “Is that why you changed your mind and joined us?”
Draece took a moment to reply. “I knew Sutara was up to no good, but she wasn’t any different from the rest of us. She had incredible talents and abilities. Renlar did everything he could for her, but she was broken, you know. She found different ways to cope with her demons, just like the rest of us. Who was I to judge or stop her?”
Vacinne watched Draece, but said nothing.
He continued, “Listen, I knew she was messing with things that she shouldn’t, but I’ve never exactly been the hero type. I should have steered her from her course, but I was so mired in my own shame and self-destruction, that I just couldn’t. When you guys came to the club that day asking for help, I wasn’t trying to help anyone but me. Renlar was right to be angry with me, especially after everything he’d done for me. Sutara was like a daughter to him, and she needed help, and I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to help him.”
; Vacinne reached over and set her hand upon Draece’s cloaked shoulder. “One thing I’ve learned about him is that he is always ready to leave things in the past.”
“It’s been the story of his whole life, literally,” said Draece.
Vacinne cocked her head at the strange response. “What do you mean?”
Draece looked at her and asked, “How often has he been willing to discuss his past?”
“He doesn’t, not at all.”
“Exactly, he’s as closed a book as you’ll find,” said Draece.
“Why the mystery? What’s he running from?” she asked.
“Himself.”
The implication of those words could be a thousand things. Vacinne’s mind raced and her heart sunk with worry.
“What do you mean?” asked Vacinne, her voice betraying her concern.
“Have you ever noticed how powerful he is? Or how he is able to do more than us? Or how he recovers so quickly? Or how he just knows things?”
Vacinne had a confused look on her face. “What are you saying?”
“Renlar’s not like us, he’s more. He’s half Drel’thari, and it terrifies him.”
“Drel’thari, like the Drel’thari?” she asked.
“They are the evil pale-skinned people who worship No’Sembrell, the patron of war and shadows, and Kritheo, the patron of assassins,” said Draece.
Vacinne sat back in her saddle. “No, there’s no way. Every tale I’ve ever heard of them suggests they are a vile people, plus aren’t they all albino?”
Draece replied, “They are albino, but it is a recessive trait. Renlar’s mother was not one of them. She was of the people of the Suoboro Desert. She was from one of the nomadic trader clans. When she was young, there was a raid on her caravan. She was captured. She was taken as a possession, and for a time she was kept as a slave—until she found she was with child. Somehow she managed to escape.”
“Heavens, that poor woman. That must have been hell,” she said.