Crimson Blade

by Corey Soreff

  “Speak for ye’self, lad. I’ll not be caught in the netherworld for the lot of you!” The dwarf Grymmbeard said. “I’d sooner fall on me own axe!”

  Lok laughed. “A good thing I wasn’t in the abyss then! Well it’s nice to see you all again, but onto other matters.” His eyes narrowed as his expression went from joy to business. “Any news on them?”

  A man named Ginin nodded at Lok, indicating he had found something. “Yes, brother. I had a drink with a knight the other day who claimed that Kuldric Kinaan has left Darnath on a mission. Apparently they want to see if all his training has paid off. They sent him to collect the head of some ogre bandit lord that has been troubling the countryside. The bandits number about one hundred, and Kuldric was sent alone. I’ve seen the bounty ads; it would seem they are holed up in the mountains southeast of Darnath.”

  Normally nobody would have known Kuldric’s true identity, but a certain God had informed Eucibous of his rivals’ names. Eucibous was thrilled to learn that he would have a chance to fight two of the best warriors in history in their prime. It was hard for him to wait this long as they grew, but they would be fights worth waiting for. He had also agreed to be Gurnac's champion, since the God had told him he didn't care what he did. Representing a neutral God wasn't half bad, you just do whatever you want.

  Everyone cheered and excitement grew. Lok nodded. “It’s about time they sent him outside the walls. Should we greet our friend?” He asked eagerly as he glanced at Eucibous.

  Eucibous waved it off as if unimportant. “I don’t want to waste my time yet if he is not stronger than before, at this moment I am more interested in Sargath’s pet, Seth’nerak. Lok, you go pay Kuldric a visit and test him in battle. You should arrive first if you head north immediately. Or are ya too old?” He asked with a laugh.

  Lok returned the gesture, “Too old? Never! I was hoping you’d ask,” he replied with a smirk.

  Grymmbeard stated that he also had news. “I recently met with an old comrade from me homeland in Ruevanta, he was on some business here in Caldar.”

  Ruevanta was the continent east of Adanantus, very few traveled there. It is known to be the home of many dwarves, gnomes, and more human empires.

  “Well, as much as everyone despises the damn things, he does a little trade here and there with the island of the drow. Apparently, a summons was sent to the King of the filthy elves, offering any willing fighters a high position in the Dark Legions. The Liche King is active my friends, and we are likely to see some groups of drow making their way across our lands in no time. It seems he plans for war.”

  Eucibous was surprised by this news. “War? With whom? I know the liche is supposed to kill me, but some drow soldiers will hardly aid his cause, as formidable as they may be. Perhaps he seeks to break the alliance. This could ruin my fun if he acts before he challenges me.”

  Ginin nodded at this remark. “I wouldn’t be surprised, knowing his God. If Kuldric is as strong as everyone hopes him to be, he might not wish for him to get any stronger. It’d be just like Sargath to order a surprise attack on his ally; he probably used you as an excuse to get the liche back. Then again, he could be calling the drow just to have their King ready for the fight against you. Kol’thakal is reputed to have never lost a fight.”

  Just then the front doors to the tavern burst open, slamming off the walls and catching the eyes of every patron in the room. Nine men all equipped in blue leather armor and longswords stormed into the Warriors Retreat. The leader of the group seemed to be staring at The Crimson Blade, a look of anger in his eyes. “Come on!” He said to his companions as they marched over to the table where Eucibous and his friends were located. They immediately surrounded the table, their fists clenched and anxious grins on their face.

  The leader put his hand down on the table and leaned over, leveling his eyes with Eucibous. “Are you in charge here?” He asked with an attitude. With a nod from Eucibous, the man slammed his fist on the table. “Everyone who’s anyone knows that this here table belongs to The Ravens. I suggest you move before we lose our patience, we would really like to sit down.” He said with a sarcastic smile, confident that the man would move like everyone always did. Nobody ever wanted to risk their life against nine armed men for a table. A few of his comrades were looking nervously at the tabards adorned with red swords, however.

  Eucibous sighed. “Your table, eh? I wasn’t aware. I’ll move right away.”

  The ruffian laughed, thinking the party would leave.

  Eucibous started to get out of his seat and began to stand, but in the middle of his ascent he stopped and laughed quietly to himself.

  The commander of the challenging mercenaries scowled. “What’s so funny? Hurry up and move!”

  Then Eucibous continued his ascent, just not in the manner that the man was hoping for. He charged straight into the man, shoulder first. The large tooth protruding from his right shoulder impaled the mercenary through the chest, making him spew blood all over himself. Eucibous hoisted him up over his head, the unfortunate brigand still hanging from his armor. Then Eucibous grabbed him with both hands and lifted him off of the tooth, tossing him through the table they were sitting at. The wood shattered as the Raven plummeted into it, and the man lay motionless on the ground. “Have your table.”

  A few of the leader’s companions took a step back, unsure whether to exact revenge or to call it a day. Before they made their decision, however, two of them dropped to the floor with daggers in their throats.

  “Nice shot, lad!” Grymmbeard said to Ginin as he jumped over the body ahead of him and brought his battle axe soaring down into another warrior’s skull, blood spraying out of his forehead like a mist.

  As Grymmbeard was taking him down, Jarec darted forward and cut down two of them with his scimitars easily before they had a chance to react, one across the stomach and one through the heart.

  The other three, obviously realizing themselves outmatched, were already fleeing immediately after they saw their friends fall to the daggers thrown by the rogue Ginin. They ran in terror out of the doors of the cavern, one of them tripping on the way.

  Everybody present in the place instantly went back to their drinking and conversations, as if it was a normal occurrence. They were just glad they hadn’t started the fight first. One of them nodded at his friend and said, “Yep, I reckon that’s them alright.”

  Lok stood up from his seat. “Such trash isn’t even worth it. Well, it’s been fun guys, but I have a paladin to play with. I’ll report back to you as soon as possible, Euc.” He waved a farewell and walked out the tavern door.

  Grymmbeard grunted. “The boy always gets the fun ones! Think the lad’ll win?”

  Eucibous shrugged. “That depends on our friend the knight. If he is the same as I saw him last, Lok will crush him. Hopefully they trained him well. I don’t expect him to be too strong yet anyway, Lok will most likely win. I just want to gauge the potential of Darnillus’s pet.”

  Ginin ripped his daggers out of the throats of the men he had slain, and began to wipe them off with a cloth he kept handy. “I’ve never seen Lok lose, and the only time I’ve heard of him losing is against you. At least the liche should be entertaining.”

  Eucibous nodded as he daydreamed of Sargath’s champion, like he so often did. His adopted parents were elves, and thus lived a long life. He remembered tales of the Liche King that his father used to tell him, tales of unimaginable power and cruelty. They say it was luck and a special weapon that enabled Dalin to bring him down. He wanted nothing more than to meet this drow. “He should be ready soon…” he said with anticipation.

  Eucibous and his friends then made their way to the door, dropping a few gold coins on the bar. “For the table,” Eucibous said to the barkeep with a smirk. They walked through the doors, and everyone in the tavern sighed with relief.

  Chapter Two

  A Warrior Reborn

  A man continued his trek up the trail of the mountain, followi
ng the tracks of the bandit party he had been sent to disperse of. His platinum plate mail reflected the sun's rays, and an enormous glowing warhammer was buckled to his back. These mountain ranges were well known for being the home of many different species of goblinoids. Almost each mountain had an evil race dwelling within, and occasionally they fought disputes over territory. Since most goblinoid races were not natives of Adanantus, when they traveled to this continent it was difficult to find a suitable living place. All knew that they were not welcome in the cities, and even the people of the sand dunes would not welcome them. But this one mountain range had always been left alone, for the humans and elves of this continent already had their domains. It soon became a home for the evil races, as well as rogues. Some of the mountains contained orcs or goblins, some even giants. But this particular one contained ogres.

  “Ogre trash, wait ‘till I find you. Your days of murder and thievery are over,” Kuldric said confidently. He had been waiting all his life for this moment. This was the first time in his entire life that he had even been allowed to leave the city of Darnath. Most men dreamt of vacations to the fortress city of the knights, but he had spent every waking moment there. For the past twenty years of his tedious existence, he woke up every day to long hours of training. The best teachers in all of Adanantus were summoned to instruct the child of God. Nobody knew for certain why he was so important, but the high clerics insisted that he was the most critical knight in all the lands. Servants bent to his every will, and knights ranked above him competed for his friendship. But no friendship could ease the wonder of the lands beyond the gates of Darnath.

  But now, finally, he had been rewarded for all his hard work. A group of ogre raiders were living in these mountains. Normally everyone ignored the evil races that lived in these mountains, because most of them minded their own business, for the most part. But this band of ogres had been leaving the mountains to appease their urge for human blood. Apparently, every bounty hunter sent to the region had never returned. Anger burned within the soul of Kuldric as he recalled memories of the stories he has heard. Once, they had cut off the limbs off of a young boy, and let him bleed to death slowly as he watched them rape his mother and sister. Kuldric’s fist clenched as he thought of the vengeance for them that lay ahead.

  Birds whistled and squirrels ran by happily, mouths full of acorns. The branches of trees blew peacefully. If one was not aware of the danger ahead, they would think this a paradise. How many travelers had they murdered, he wondered?

  The leader of the ogre bandits sat in his cave, barking orders at his servants. They had recently returned from raiding a small human village to the south, and they were splitting up what wealth they had taken. “My pile is too small!” Goreshank yelled to his subordinates. “What is the meaning of this? Do you undermine my worth?” He sneered at his underling in amusement, knowing how afraid he must be. Goreshank was an intimidating ogre, more so than most. Most ogres were about seven feet tall, Goreshank stood eight feet. Most of his bandits carried basic wooden clubs. But strapped to his waist was a large steel club, complete with a spiked head. On the wall behind him was a rack of spears as well.

  One of the ogre bandits looked up at his master in fear. “My Lord, I gave you double the portions that we are receiving, I thought that would be sufficient. Would you like me to add more?”

  Goreshank reached behind himself, grabbing a spear off the wall. He hurled it straight at the bandit, impaling him through the chest. He fell to the ground, his body twitching until no lifeforce remained. The ogre lord looked at another bandit and narrowed his eyes. “You make the piles.”

  The new ogre appointed the task gulped, realizing the same fate awaited him if he didn’t perform as his master preferred. He took half of each bandits pile and added it to his lord’s pile, forming a massive hoard of food and gold. He knew his companions would be angry, but that was much better then Goreshank being angry.

  Goreshank smiled in approval and retrieved his share. “Now, get out of my cave.” As his followers scurried out of his lair, he relaxed and allowed himself to daydream. This is the third village this month they had raided, and they were gaining quite a bit of wealth. How rich would he become? He smiled as he thought of future campaigns and the blood and treasure that would come of them.

  Goreshank woke up an hour later, to the sound of battle outside the cave. He heard ogre voices screaming in terror and wondered if an army had finally come to stop him. “Blasted humans! I’ll rip ‘em apart!” He yelled with anger, as he stormed out of his cave with his large spiked club. He got to the entrance of the cave, and laughed aloud. There was only one man! “How lucky!” He cheered and ran straight at the little human.

  Lok put his foot on the chest of the ogre lord, and kicked him off of the blade of his halberd that he had been impaled upon. The fool had come charging out of his cave like a buffoon waving his weapon in the air. He might as well have been asking for a blade in the stomach. “You can never get sick of killing ogres,” he muttered. He stuck his halberd firmly into the ground, and pushed off of it to launch himself onto a rock formation above. Sitting calmly on the large rocks, he began to clean off his blade of all the blood as he awaited his target.

  Ninety-five ogres lay dead below.

  Kuldric’s heart raced with excitement as he noticed he was coming to a clearing, where the elevation ceased. He strode forward as the clearing became visible, and he noticed a cave at the end. Excellent! He thought, and continued on. “This must be where they….” He stopped his advancement as his eyes widened and beheld the scene before him. Dozens, no, close to a hundred ogres lay on the ground in pools of blood. Someone had gotten to them first! “Damn!” He yelled in fury. “I wait my whole life for a battle, and when I finally get one it is stripped from me!”

  “Keep it down, will ya? People will think you’re crazy, talking to yourself like that.” A nearby voice said merrily.

  Where did that voice come from? He scanned the clearing and saw nothing but bodies. The cave? No, wait. His eyes slowly ascended as he noticed the man sitting atop some large boulders up above. Kuldric’s hand went immediately to the hilt of his unbelievably large hammer, not knowing if this was friend or foe.

  Lok jumped down from the rock formation, landing gracefully just ahead of young Kuldric. He had a long halberd grasped in his right hand, as if ready for battle. “Why so tense, young knight? I was just setting up camp here when these scary bandits attacked, so I defended myself as best I could.”

  Kuldric’s face remained serious as he studied the man in front of him. As best he could? Every ogre lies dead and this man appears to be alone. “Buckle your halberd then.” Kuldric suggested as a way to show peaceful intent.

  Lok smiled heartily at the young paladin. “Oh? Well, I was just thinking how I didn’t have enough fun with them.” He said as he brought his hand around him an arc, meaning to imply of the dead ogres behind him. “How about it, Knight of Darnillus? A duel? Every creature on the mountain heard how angry you were at not having a chance to fight.”

  Kuldric tensed, realizing this man had every intent to fight him from the beginning. “A duel or a deathmatch?” He asked seriously.

  Lok laughed in amusement. “Well, I suppose that depends on you. I don’t kill those who give me a good fight, unless I must.”

  Kuldric was nervous for he had never been in a serious fight before, only duels with his masters. His heart raced as it dawned on him that he could face death. No, I can’t die, he thought. I am the hope of our people. The best techniques in the empire have been beaten into me! At first he was worried because this man had so easily defeated so many bandits, but he had come here to do the same!

  For the first time in the conversation, Kuldric sported a smile. Behind that smile laid the burning desire to fight. “Darnillus, I ask for your strength and your guidance. Fight by my side!” He yelled.

  Lok had to stop himself from bursting out laughing. He had seen many men beg their God for h
elp, and they had always fallen before him, help or not. He began jumping lightly up and down, landing on his toes. Eventually, one time as his toes made contact with the dirt, he seemingly vanished as he circled around his foe. He came up behind the young champion, and delivered an incredibly swift spin kick to the side of his head…only to hit the head of a hammer.

  Kuldric had seen the attack coming. His opponent vanished in front of his eyes, but all the training he had received screamed out to him as he guessed at where he would attack. The second that the man faded from view, he also sensed a kick coming to the back of his head…where he had already placed his hammer in defense. This man is fast, too fast for someone of his age, he thought. He’s good, he acknowledged to himself. “Maybe this will be just as good as slaying ogres!” He yelled confidently as he jumped back away from his enemy. You can’t take chances, he commanded himself. Lok vanished again, not meaning to stand idle and give him a chance to think of a strategy…but he already had.

  Was it luck? Thought Lok. Anyone could guess to be attacked from behind, but the head of the hammer was placed exactly where his foot connected. Let’s find out, he decided. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he flanked his opponent, and he brought down his halberd in a strong, fast sweep aimed right at the paladin’s knees…again blocked by a hammer. Not luck.

  Lok looked up and nodded at the knight in respect, and then he noticed it. Another hammer came crashing down on his shoulder, while his halberd was held in place by the first. Pain shot down through his body as his legs crumpled beneath him and he fell to the ground. The world spun around him. “Two….hammers?” He asked while struggling to stay conscious. He realized they seemed smaller than the one he had before. He smiled up at the knight, and thought to himself… “He’ll be happy.” Then he entered the world of dreams.