The Rokkaia Chronicles

by Rhys Thomas

  With a mental chuckle, I withdrew, *I… Am soo dumb!* I sent to Marisa, then quieted as I received no reply.

  After breakfast and packing up we all hopped back in our respective wagons and carried on the final path to our destination. The rolling plains ran on for miles before us. To our east I saw a band of snow-covered trees leading into a far greater forest and another less snowy mountain.

  At our west was a cascading decline of rocks, trees and ravines that ran down from the mountain at our backs.

  After about two hours of swaying on the wagon’s seat, spent flickering through my runic senses and noting that they didn’t expend any power at all as none was lost in the exchange, the power used simply receded back into my delve. I saw the place I had set out to reach when I first arrived on Viria, a week ago. At least what I thought was a week ago. I didn’t even know what time it was.

  ~*~*~*~

  The Glen’dal Coven was a single unguarded tree in the middle of fucking nowhere. The tree had windows and a round door that reminded me of Bilbo Baggins’s house in the Hobbit, though it was big enough to fit two wagons abreast through. Towering high enough to at least match a quarter of the Dale Mountain, the tree was pretty enormous

  The base of the trunk was about 25-30-metres in diameter around the trees base. I saw no signs of activity and wondered if the people—the witches—had abandoned it. We moved through an open gated entrance, idyllic wooded picket fences lined out a yard with a stable and a garden devoured by snow.

  Yet the wagons kept on rolling through, and the none of the Venyin seemed to be concerned. “Why is so deserted?” I asked Hurallan in a near whisper.

  The old man cracked a grin my way like he had caught me out again, “you most definitely haven’t visited the Glen’dal before aye.”

  I shook my head and eyed the surroundings. We came to a stop and I was about to jump down when Hurallan caught my sleeve. “Watch. You’ll see why it seems’ deserted,” he told me, letting go. Straightening up on the bench and craning my neck just in time to see Bria jumping off the lead wagon. She moved to the door in the tree and banged her fist three times, then once, then three more time, then twice more.

  “They’ve a secret knock?” I muttered dryly.

  “It means we have come seeking. We have come for shelter,” Hurallan explained. Three sharp distinct taps came from the other side of the door, “you may enter,” the wagon driver added. I watched as Bria ran back to her wagon and hop aboard. Then the massive round door collapsed apart, folding inwards and dividing into sharp splintery teeth. It gave the entrance an ominous Vampiric appeal. Then the teeth slid out of sight. I expected to see some light on the other end of the door, but instead I saw was a vortex.

  A bend in reality.

  Bria’s shape elongated along with her thadda and wagon as she moved to the portal. As she neared the elongating of her figure twisted and whirl around the vortex, then she was gone from view.

  “Holy shit,” I said in stunned disbelief. One by one each wagon’s rolled through the trees’ opening to be twisted and absorbed through by the portal. Then we were moving through it, I unconsciously held my breath as we dove through. There was a sudden absence of light and sound, a cold chill permeated body then I twisted and whirled and breached through the other side. And came upon a sprawling underground metropolis.

  House’s made of trees, mushrooms and stone. A crowded market place teeming with all kinds of different races, none I had seen on the surface world, and none who were hostile to each other.

  The walls and ceiling hummed a soft blue gleam, glowing mushrooms and various other flora I had never seen spread through the underground city.

  “Welcome to the Ny’thier city, my friends,” Hurallan said and gestured widely at the expanse. I laughed in wonder and felt a nudge as Sishshik wedged himself between Ariana and I. Marisa was still in the back suffering from her wound and I felt a little guilty to be enjoying the sight without her.

  “Ny’thier? I thought this was the Glen’dal Coven,” I asked the wagon driver.

  He bobbed his head, “aye it is. The Glen’dal coven runs thing’s throughout the city. They allow all races to live and prosper within Ny’thier as long as they follow the laws they’ve set. The Coven acts as a fair and just overseer for the city,” he explained. I nodded along, taking in the wondrous sights.

  We moved slowly as traffic and the busy streets hampered us.

  Several times I found strange dark ashen grey skinned people staring at me, their black eyes and the long-pointed ears cresting out the sides of long silvery white hair made me realise that they were in fact something similar to Dark Elves.

  I waved at a few, who returned the gesture hesitantly.

  “A lot of people are staring at us,” I muttered just loud enough for Ariana to hear. Though it was hard to hear anything in the bustling streets. She gave a small nod, agreeing as her sharp gaze flickered about. I half expected to see cat girls prancing through the cities market stalls, nya-ing at everything shiny, but I saw neither beast-kin of any sort.

  “Guess I won’t be fulfilling my fox girl dreams after all,” I mumbled with a wistful sigh. “Where exactly are we going?” Ariana asked the old man, pointedly ignoring my comment. He pointed ahead and above the roof tops before us to what looked to be a clock tower.

  “We unload our wagons there. A witch overseer will inspect the goods we bring and give us a token of right to trade.”

  “What’s to stop you from selling your goods on the way there then?” Ariana asked him before I could.

  “Each outside trader is given a magically imbued token that lasts for one week. The token costs a percentage of all goods sold, to be paid after the week is up. They can be brought prior to the sell but cost more,” the old man explained. I nodded, understanding that the Coven had essentially set up a fee for trading. The cost of which was the estimated tax of goods brought in, the gains from goods sold before leave. It didn’t seem entirely beneficial but what who was I to argue.

  Everywhere flowed with life and activity, beamed with chatter, songs and general merriment.

  Vendors hollered their goods and prices, other’s argued good naturedly causing customers to look back and forth between them. I couldn’t help the damn smile that spread across my face. This was the place I had been searching for.

  This was fantasy.

  We traversed through the Ny’thier city till we reached the centre, once there I was surprised to see docks and a wide-open channel of gleaming crystal clean water that reflected the ceiling. Small boats manoeuvred throughout or sat idle in the docks, their drivers’ swapping tales with one another. As others sat and relax nearby on barrels smoking their pipes.

  Larger vessels occupied the larger docks where massive cargo and goods in bulk were lifted magically by spells. This was my first experience of seeing magic, other than my own, but I couldn’t see the caster through the din of the crowd.

  Then there was a raucous laugh and I scanned the docking area till my eyes landed on a group of three men and two women.

  One of the men was bent squatting down and facing the water. I could hear the others of his party chuckling and laughing with one another. Then a slim pale blue scaled arm shot out from the water followed by a figure to encompass the man, pulling his head down to meet a beautiful scaled woman’s face.

  Her defining features were in vast abundance, massively pouty lips, that looked bruised to the point of swollen and purple. Wide black orbs for eyes that seemed to drink the light, and a fainted hued of light green scales ran from her hair line down the back of her neck. She had fins along the underside of her arms and three sets of gills lining the sides of her neck. Her torso was bare, and her perky breasts were round and high on her chest. They were a cream white coloured scales as was the rest of her torso.

  She leaned upwards and kissed the man, her lips almost encompassing his entire face. I travelled my eyes down the scaled body and saw that her lower was still beneath the wa
ter, but I could just make out her waist. It was a darker blue in colour and narrowed into a tail.

  “Undines,” Hurallan commented. I looked at him and he explained further, “They help to keep the water clear of predators and also help in towing crafts out the Ny’thier. Though, that is usually reserved for expeditions to the Farland’s or for when a young witch is to take her trial.”

  I thought for a couple of seconds because the name sounded familiar, then it clicked. “Right,” I said nodding. “Their payment is a kiss, I gather.”

  “Aye it is. Anymore; than that and the Undine may be tempted to drag you beneath and have their way with you,” he said chuckling.

  “Well that sounds positively delightful.”

  “If by delightful you mean drowning? Then yes, by all accounts go forth, fuck and drown.” I snickered at his words. The wagon train stopped outside the clock tower and looking to the golden filigree clockface I saw that it was 1pm.

  Bria and several women in robes conversed for a few minutes before the women moved away and Bria to her wagon, “we’re going around back. They’re packed as of now, so we’ll be setting up in the warehouse,” she said to the Venyin people and groans answered her from them.

  “It’s bad to set up in the warehouse?” I asked Hurallan.

  He nodded, “usually we get the market or the square, to set up stalls for our goods. The warehouse is packed full of other vendor’s to the point of being overly crowded so it’s hard to sell, and the majority of the merchant’s that’ll fleece ya are generally there also.”

  “Damn, guess that does suck.”

  “It does,” he agreed. We started to move again, and I prodded Hurallan in the elbow, the wagon driver half turned to look at me and the busy street. People moved back and forth darting through to pass the wagons as they trundled on.

  “If I needed to speak to the witches, do I go to that clock tower?” I asked him.

  “Clock tower?” he asked, and I thumbed at the structure over my shoulder. “Oh, ya mean the Obelisk. Yes, that’s where you’ll need to go.”

  “Thanks,” I told him as he turned his attention fully back to the train ahead. Then I felt Ariana prodded me, I turned to her and she gave a nod to our oncoming right.

  Stood there outside a shop was more of the dark elf looking people, four of them. Except these ones wore black billowy cloak’s with a silver hem. They stared at me, with something akin to shock on their otherwise blank features. Dark Elves, if that’s what they were, were another fantasy of mine. There was always something morbidly attractive about the dangerously imperial race back when I played games on Earth.

  I turned from them to Hurallan, “what’s with the dark grey skinned folks?” I asked him and gave a vague nod in their direction.

  “You mean the Mælkeri. They’re quite numerous here in Ny’thier city. They mainly roam in mercenary bands, hired on for those foolish enough to travel to the Farland’s or to escort delegation’s sent to the Ogres clan of Bane Horren.” As he finished speaking. We drove passed the four gawkers; these too I gave a wave as we rocked by turning a corner.

  I bet if Marisa were awake, she would just tell me that they were Dark Elves and not to worry about the minutiae of it all.

  I sighed, feeling more lost without her mental presence. Soon enough we came upon the warehouse, a massive structure that almost equalled the Obelisk in height. Though it was stockier and looked very much like an oversized warehouse.

  We stopped outside and everyone jumped off their wagon’s to stretch their legs. I stood with Marisa wrapped in bundle in my arms. I had decided to keep my falchion belted on instead of in my inventory. We had removed our fur layering and bags, those I warped away to my inventory.

  Bria walked up to us as Ariana was helping Sishshik out of the wagon. “It’ll be a shame to see you all go, though I imagine without you it’ll be less exciting,” she said by way of greeting. “Thank you Outworlder, you and yours have kept us save as per the agreement you made with Byron and I shall honour it.” She pulled out a small cinched bag and tossed it to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked though as I felt the coins through the bag I knew. “That’s your reimbursement, all 8-silvers and coppers worth.” She explained.

  “Thank you, Bria. Favourable roads to you and yours,” I said and bowed my head. She smirked and strolled off back the way she came. Hurallan came over with Ariana carrying Sishshik’s spear.

  “Well, this is the end on our journey together friends,” said the old man and clapped me and Ariana on the shoulder both. “It’ll be quiet without you all and I’ll miss it, but maybe we’ll cross paths again, you never know.”

  “We’ll miss your company as well Hurallan,” I said, and Ariana nodded her agreement.

  “Hah, you won’t, trust me there. You make sure you get your friend there to the witches of Glen’dal. No one else, you hear me. Make sure it’s after whatever it is, you’ll be doing there though,” he said sternly. “They aren’t bad folks but can be tricky. Warmer days to you both,” he said goodbye.

  “And favourable roads to you my friend,” I murmured to his back.

  I knew I would look back on these times and see Hurallan for who he really was. Grief had struck him so early-on in his years, the loss of someone he loved had turned him away from the Venyin belief that all roads lead to home. He had been bitter and angry; and this had led to isolation. But escape could only last so long, and eventually he craved to reconnect. In his isolation though, he had also lost the prejudice many of his people held for outsiders.

  “Let’s go,” Ariana said looking around. “We need to retrace our steps back to the Obelisk.” I nodded in agreement still watching Hurallan walk away from us.

  They would all die in the coming weeks.

  Interlude: Zharrol Armsbane

  “Get the fuck off me,” I growled angrily as the stupid gold slaver pricks tried to drag off their stupid ship. They’d spent the last few hours beating the ever-loving shit out of me and I still hadn’t budged. Now they were using their dumb superior height advantage on me. What was it with the tall folk of this damned world, everyone either takes advantage of you, or steals from you, or tries to lord their absolutely ridiculous tax to enter their dumb little village.

  I cursed as another of the golden clad slavers, grabbed a hold of my salt and pepper beard, trying to drag me out of my cell.

  “If it was a shave, ya wanted to give me, why didn’t ya ask,” I mused at the grumbling slaver. Zwerc beards were hardy things, and barely any knife could cut through them. It was why we fashioned them so. Then the dickless man produced a very imposing little knife, just as his commander came down from the top deck and barked an order in their strange language. The man with the knife sneered at me and put it away. “That’s right laddie listen to ya mommy, maybe she’ll pepper you with sweet forehead kisses before she tuck’s ya in for the night,” I laughed at the slaver. Though I was sure they didn’t understand a single word I was saying the message had been clear.

  15-minutes later after another all-round beating, they eventually tired out. It had gotten to the point where I was sure they brought the whole garrison down below deck to have a go at me.

  But I was stout and strong, though short for a Zwerc.

  The commander walked past his bruised knuckled and tired men towards the chair I was now strapped too.

  He smiled, showing off his filed sharp teeth, he gestured to his men; laughed aloud and then made an A-Okay sign with his fingers at me. “What?” I asked him. Then he produced a small green glass box, that glowed with an inner light.

  “Can you under-stand me, Zzzzwergan?” he asked distortedly, elongating the Z through a hiss as he spoke into the box.

  “No, I can’t obviously,” I spat at his polish boots and rolled my eyes. The commander looked perplex and glanced at the box-thingy in his, “but, you just replied.”

  “You’re mistaken, I’ve no shitting-clue what you’re sayin,” I told the gold sand pain
ted commander. “You understood what I said!” He exclaimed frustratedly.

  “Look, why don’t ya take that box and shove it up your ass, because all that’s coming out of your mouth is garbled shit anyway.”

  “You will see Zzzzwergan, when we arrive at the ruins of your city, you. Will. See, we’ve been taking your people for months now, and bringing them back to the great emperor-”

  “Look, I really don’t care. I abandoned my people centuries ago, what possible-fuck could I give for them?” I interrupted the man. “Besides, what could ya possibly do with a bunch of frozen ZWER-CAN—by the way, ya mispronounced that—and Demi’s.”

  Then he laughed raucously and patted his leg, “did I say something funny, ya painted fool.”

  “Oh, but you did, Zzzzwergan-”

  “Still wrong.”

  “You see, we’ve found a way to harvest your people from the great freeze, we’ve been doing so for months. Your men have been toiling away in the mines of Goldranos Imperia. Your women are now sex-slaves for the great Tyran-”

  “Oh, is that all! Had me worried there for a moment,” I interrupted him again. if the commander of this slave ship thought to enraged, he’d better think again. My people were hard, we’d fought in many battles and when the great freeze happened, during our fight with the Jashpa and Kalisati shaman’s. A few others and I broke away in a mad dash to outrun it. Now only I was left of the free Zwercan’s that ran the day, I just hoped they didn’t harvest those we fought. Or all else was in peril.

  “Well, hope ya have a good day commander, thanks for that bit of news. Always nice to hear about home,” I smiled crookedly at the slaver. He huffed and his glowy-box-thing went dark.

  I thought back to the fucker who’d betrayed me. Vivik Grayson that traitorous son of a bitch, not only did he steal my hammer, my arm—not my actually arm—and my inventions. But he twisted my friends mind, turning the massive bear into nothing more than a mindless slave.