Malcor soared across the courtyard, and a fellow knight’s battle priest caught him. As he landed, he grew back to full size. The two nodded at each other and Malcor walked back. He had travelled easily two hundred paces. When he made it back, Tembri added, “In combat, you would armor up and land on your shield. Hopefully, I throw you well and the bodies of your enemies cushion your landing. When you are more powerful, I can also flame strike you and that column of fire will burn back your enemies and also show us where you have landed."
"What do I need to do to withstand the flame strike? Tell me about that attack.”
“You must be baptized in the River. By a transcendent servant of the Queen. Dar Rojo, Dar Itain, Dar Shara, Dar Kell, someone like that. By tradition though, it is not done until you have completed the fourth rite. In your case, I heard a rumor that yours would be the blood of heroes.” Tembri sat back and gestured for Malcor to eat and drink. “Flame strike is our summons of dragon fire from the Queen’s throne plane. It opens as a column of divine fire that reaches up into the sky. A novice’s flame strike is typically four men tall and one man wide. It lasts seconds. As the cleric grows in favor, the strike becomes more malleable. Though I cannot yet move my strike, mine is fifty men tall and ten men wide. I can maintain it for about one minute and call upon the Queen’s favor for it six times a day before it exhausts me.”
Malcor remembered Dar Shara and how she not only held her columns for hours, but had multiple columns that danced with the knights and reached up into the sky above Klenna. The healers looked impressed at Tembri’s description. “We have not been trained in flame strike. Our focus is healing and support. We’ll learn it someday after we have mastered our core.”
"Tembri," Malcor asked before they went, "the blood of heroes, is what exactly? I've never heard of it though it's a term I have occasionally overheard since coming here."
Tembri looked as if he would ignore him, but others expressed an interest in learning as well. He sighed and signaled for food and water. "We'll take a brief rest. So, look, you have seen the River. You can move in and out of it. As you know, it presents an overwhelming advantage. You might wonder, why not always fight from the River? I'm sure it has crossed your mind."
"It has," Malcor replied, "but I have also had times where I could not access it or was so abruptly pulled out of the River that it broke my concentration. It seems arbitrary."
One of the healers chimed in, "It does. Our healing is more powerful from there too, but my instructor told us to never trust the River."
Tembri took a long drink of water. "The thing about the flow is that it's made up of fragments of magic and major events from the entire realm of all worlds and universes. What is happening to us right now, is not reflective of what is happening everywhere. Just before right now, something amazing or horrible may have happened. It creates tides and currents. The longer you stay in the River, the more power you use there, the more likely you get caught by one of these. Those are random.
"The other issue is that not all those who access the River are like us. We live in Time. Each moment flows to the next moment. This flow of Time will eventually bring us death by old age. However, for undead, for immortals, for gods, Time does not quite work that way. Linearity only exists when they are in this world. One step to the River and linearity only exists when they engage with us in our time. Another step and another, and as they get closer to their own throneplanes or whatever passes for their home, and different rules begin to apply. For gods, like our Mother, there is only truly cause and effect, action and consequence. There is no Time.
"What this means for you and all of us is that when we enter the River and alter Time, we invite scrutiny. As you grow more powerful, you'll invite more and more. It'll be easier for enemies to find you if you're there splashing all about, metaphorically speaking."
They discussed this for a bit while snacking though they had to bring more and more food to Malcor. "And the blood of heroes is what – another metaphor?"
"No, it's literally the blood of heroes, taken from the River."
"So, heroes go to the River and bleed? I still don't get it."
One of the healers said, "You've heard about cascades right? And bloodstones?"
"I've only heard that bloodstones are rare, they're mined in bloodstone, and it's a big deal. I have not heard of cascades."
Tembri looked at Malcor, "But you know the stories about Dar Kell, for instance, when he fought in Bloodstone against the hellhounds and suddenly angels, dragons, undead, powerful beings joined into the fight? The songs call it the War of Angels I think." Malcor nodded. "That's a cascade. Kell's fight with the hellhounds disturbed the River to the point that other gods chose to intervene. Your baptism will be in the River, during a cascade."
Chapter Twenty Seven - Lich Game
More days passed in training and doctrinal study. It was not until the fifth day that Malcor finally ran the battlement stairs without wanting to die for exhaustion. The Ram and Javelin had become second nature. Malcor sat in the garden listening to the koto and watching two monks spar when a commotion caught all of their attention. Conversation around him dealt with the lich. The lich had been busy, visiting Imperius’ temple, visiting the libraries, and speaking with several of Ori’s artists. Such interactions came back as reports to the royal household. After the lich visited the Imperius Temple on his first day, Tania had removed the shrine of Takhissis entirely, choosing to destroy it rather than have the lich enter it.
He saw a courier come running, waving a paper to enter the throne room. The lich had distributed papers throughout Ori. It announced a fabulous prize, set in a maze of traps. “Conquer the maze and receive the treasure!”
When the courier entered the throne room, the daimo and Dar Kendra stopped their conversation, listened to the courier’s report, and dismissed him. The daimo said, “The lich grows more and more bold. He knows this will draw out adventurers. Perhaps he seeks to test the true mettle of our people on his own terms.”
Kendra replied, “It is a test no doubt. Will you allow it?” The daimo looked out in the courtyard as Malcor stood and engaged one of the monks in basic sparring and foot movement. He looked pensive and she continued, “Your empire has benefited greatly with King Rojo’s understanding of your ways. Do you still resent the Queen’s knights studying these techniques?”
The daimo watched Malcor quickly pick up the basics. “I do not resent it. These fighting techniques were perfected by Imperius and became part of his glorious ascension. Your king would have made a great kensai.” He referred to the reserved title for weapon masters who transcended weapon mastery and took it to an entirely higher level. “He would also have been the first Tanian to serve Imperius.”
“The Queen has other plans for Dar Rojo. No doubt, the Queen has plans for you and Imperius as well. We all serve the Goddess.”
The daimo grinned, “Indeed. I will allow the adventurers to gather and go. Perhaps your scouts could join one of the parties. Have they returned?”
“No, and they are overdue. If they do not send word or return by dawn tomorrow, I will attempt to scry and perhaps recall them. It depends. So far, the Queen provides no guidance. I feel the time we buy here gives us advantage, though I could not tell you why.”
The daimo took of a sip of tea and continued to watch Malcor sparring. “He is young to have joined your Order no? If I recall, the last initiate was well over forty years of age when he joined. He is truly Kell's son?"
Kendra nodded. “Your sources do you honor. That one there - Malcor, well, he found his way to us on his own. He is a rare breed of paladin. And, he is Kell's son. Tell me my lord, have you met Ynt’taris during one of your visits to Tania?” referring to the white dragon.
The daimo thought and said, “Too many years ago when I was still young and foolish enough to think I could debate a dragon! After meeting the dragon emperor, a party was held. At some point in that, I was introduced to a dread lord who radiate
d an intense cold. Later, I was told I had met Ynt’taris, specifically that Ynt’taris had wanted to meet me. On my voyage home, my ship fell into an ocean blizzard that coated the ship in ice. Imperius had asked the dragon emperor to look after us. Ynt’taris pulled us from the ice storm and saved our lives. Though I often wondered if the dragon did not cause the storm in the first place.”
“The dragons often surprise us. Ynt'taris does not leave the icy heights of his mountains unless the Queen requires it. That he did, tells me you either made quite an impression or you indeed have a destiny for the Goddess. The dragons care about what they care about. I have often seen the dread lords deviate from expected and planned behavior, even the emperor’s commands. In soaring the heavens, they are closer to the divine. Ynt’taris seems to take special pleasure against the emperor’s will. Fire and Ice do not co-exist well. However, Ynt'taris did tell me to convey his regards. He also wishes to renew his invitation that you come visit.”
The daimo laughed. "Many thanks indeed Dar Kendra. I will give you a letter for the white one. Lets speak of this lich now. Ori and this lich’s forces do not co-exist well. I received a report that the lich had a conversation with a young boy coming out of dojo study. The lich wanted to know if the boy truly worshipped Imperius. We do not expect a boy that age to have developed faith yet, but the boy said yes. The lich wanted to know why and said something like, “If I do a miracle, would you have faith in and worship me?” The boy said no.” The daimo chuckled and finished, “You are too scary to worship, the boy said.” The boy ran away and the lich let him. He actually appeared amused by the exchange.”
Another courier entered. He told them the lich had requested a tour of the royal gardens and palace the next day. “Well,” the daimo said to Dar Kendra. “I expect you’ll be moving your soldiers. I must make the palace ready.” His eyes still followed Malcor.
“Daimo, may I ask that Malcor attend with you tomorrow? We can have him dress as a servant here in the palace. While he is much bigger than…”
“Excellent idea. I will have our largest warriors present as well. Maybe the lich will enjoy a sumo tournament. Sir Malcor will appear very small.”
Chapter Twenty Eight – Dar Kendra versus Ori
The lich walked through the streets of Ori in what looked like a poorer more run down part of the city. While clean and pleasant looking, the paint and roof tiles and wood work looked a bit worn down. Scrolls bearing the god fluttered where statues stood in other parts of the city. To the lich, the whole city looked like a garden where people had been planted and cultivated instead of plants. Colored silk pinions snapped in the wind. The organized chaos appealed to the lich as he began to understand how it all worked together to create a society and a city.
Small children and curious onlookers followed the monk guards walking some twenty steps behind. For the most part, people avoided his gaze and withdrew behind door and window. At last he waved one of the Ori guards forwarded and asked, "Why does everyone turn their gaze aside?"
The monk took a deep breath and then looked into the lich's eyes. Trying not to let fear or anything show, the monk said, "In our world, in this time, a lich like you can steal souls and possess people's will through eye contact. It is common knowledge to our people."
The lich noted the man's accelerated heartbeat and fear-dilated eyes. "I see," he said. Every once in a while, someone would meet his gaze and he would try to call them to him. Though most of these attempts were pointless, the monks scared them off, every once in a while he found himself in a conversation. He sensed such an opportunity when they rounded a turn and a bald old man sat meditating under a manicured tree.
The lich walked straight to him and affected his best imitation of their odd language. “Are you in good health?” the lich asked. The monks, he could tell, were trying to shoo the man away, but when he replied and turned his head towards the lich, he saw the empty orbs of eyes long blind.
The man shivered as the lich drew close and its shadow fell across him. The monks realized the man’s blindness and took up protective stance around. A small crowd drew close to watch and listen. The lich sat down copying the man’s seated leg-crossed position. The blind man did not say a word but smiled to the sunlight as the lich’s shadow stopped blocking the sun on his face. “May we speak?” the lich asked.
The man nodded. “It is a warm sunny day, though with a chill wind. Have you any news of the armies on the south gate?”
The lich grinned at the monks. “I have heard of a cease fire and tribute being paid, but other than that, the City of Imperius has rebuilt its southern gates and walls. The leader of the City’s enemies apparently walks the streets of Ori. Have you heard?”
“What I don’t understand is why we have an enemy at all? Did Ori do something to this lich? I mean, back when I was a soldier, we fought wars of self-defense. There’d be a gathering of orcs, they’d attack, we’d repel them. The orcs wanted plunder. What does this lich want so badly that we are attacked?”
The lich stared at one of the guards who happened to have met his gaze and answered, “Maybe the lich is simply fascinated by the chaos that comes with war. Plunder is not interesting. This god though – Imperius! Imagine how that must sound to it.”
The blind man retorted, “Only a fool would challenge a god…”
“What if the god is the only conquest, or plunder as you would say, worth taking here?”
The blind man appeared visibly upset and said, “No no no, you must not question the Shining Lord Imperius, righteousness, justice, fairness in combat, these are principles that endure through the ages!” While he said this, he reached out to touch the lich.
“You don’t want to do that old man,” the lich said. “I would also tell you that these human concepts live and die with the human race. They are not godly principles.”
The man’s fingers stopped just shy of the lich’s armored arm while several of the monks rushed forward calling for him to stop and trying to restrain him. The man’s empty eyes opened wide as he realized, “This painful chill… are you the…”
“Yes, I am the leader of the armies at your gates. If you touch me, in all likelihood, you will die.”
Curiosity crossed the man’s face, for a moment, and then he withdrew his hand. The monks reached him and started pulling him back, but he stopped them. “I am fine. Leave me alone.” He shoved them away and smoothed his shirt down. “You do me honor, to talk with me,” he said to the lich. “Had I known… oh well. You know, when I was young, I fought my fair share of monsters and others. But, I don’t recall ever fighting one that had such intense cold surrounding it. What are you? May I ask?”
The lich looked at the sun blistering and withering his hand, even as it repaired itself. Had he breath, he would have sighed. Instead, he said, “I watched the sun take shape in the void of the realm, and I fought against the being who claimed that bright star as its own. I stood on this land when it seethed as an ocean of chaos, magic, and matter. Always, I railed against that which tried to limit me. Eventually, I found my life burning away and found magic to prolong it.”
“Are you divine?”
“Divine? I’m sorry, I do not understand. Do you mean that I have worshippers like your god Imperius?”
“No, I mean to ask – are you a god?”
The lich thought for a moment trying to understand. “I am not used to being confused and not knowing. I imagine gods are not confused. I have enjoyed our talk, but must go before something bad happens. I leave you this though.” He dropped a metal disk the size of a coin in front of the man. “Should you find you want to continue this conversation, on my terms, pick this up and touch it to your forehead. Good bye.” The lich stood and walked away down the boulevard.
Though the monks followed him, he noted one stayed back and looked at the metal disk. The lich paused and turned to say, “Monk, I gifted that to the blind man. It is cursed for anyone else… to unleash an ancient pestilence. Heed my words and leav
e it be.”
The monk jumped back, and a small group of onlookers who had rushed forward to hear what the old man might say, stepped back alarmed as well.
The lich chuckled and continued his stroll. He had some more hours before whatever this “sumo tournament” would occur.
When the lich had safely moved from view, a group of soldiers came forward with runners and a wheeled wagon. The old man and his disk were placed into this and they ran to the royal palace. The old man found himself dragged/ushered into some kind of cool and soft and sweet-smelling room. In his blindness he waited until someone said, “Old man, you stand before the daimo, and other nobility.”
Flustered and increasingly alarmed, the man fell to his knees and bowed low. “How may I serve?” His keen ears heard someone whisper about his blindness.
The daimo asked, “I understand you had a conversation with the lich, the leader of the armies attacking us. He gave you something. Tell us.”
The man pulled the disk out of his pocket and placed it on the floor in front of him. He heard the swish of robes and then a gruff Tanian accent speaking passable Imperic said, “There is no curse on this. It appears to be a disk of metal inscribed with eldar runes. While I can’t speak for the metal, the runes predate anything held in our archives. Perhaps the dragon emperor could read it.” The voice asked the blind man, “The lich said that if you put it to your head and…”
“…our conversation would continue on his terms. I have already been asked and said that I do not understand any special meanings in any of this. The monks were there too. They overheard everything.”
Apprentice walked around the old man and looked him over. Finally he said, “Our doctrine tells us that all eldar controlled chaos, what we now refer to as magic, by thought and will. The only thing I see here is an old man who spoke with an eldar. The disk certainly contains large amounts of magic.” Before anyone could say anything, the mage pressed the disk to his own forehead. A collective gasp filled the room, but nothing happened. The mage shrugged. “I had to know.”
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