A rapping sounded upon Rose’s door that morning. She barely shifted at the first series and after a long pause, the knock sounded once more.
A minute later, a sleepy-eyed and slightly bruised Rose Thorne slowly opened the door, annoyed at being disturbed.
Nimaira Silvershade stood in the threshold of her room and waited patiently, saying nothing at first.
Rose was slightly hung-over on top of feeling the lingering bruises from her recent fight.
She had brought a few flasks with her to celebrate with the others only to realize last eve that she was made to remain in her room alone. She had imbibed it all by herself, attempting to dull the pain of her injuries, but managing instead to get herself unnecessarily drunk.
“We must go now,” the woman instructed Rose, urging her to get moving faster.
“All right, all right,” Rose replied hurriedly, standing before a door-length mirror and removing her robe to reveal a lithe, athletic body that exhibited a few too many scars around the stomach and upper thighs. She began slowly fastening on her leathers, piece by piece, and strapping on her thigh-belted scabbards that stored her enchanted daggers, one on each leg. She then affixed her cloak, boots and gloves.
“Is there anything to break my fast this morning?” Rose asked absently.
“I am not sure, but we can provide whatever you need,” Nimaira replied politely.
Quickly gazing into her room’s mirror once more, Rose straightened her hair and played with it, shifting it this way and that, seeing how the different hair styles might look on her.
She knew it was making them late to the meeting, but she wasn’t all that concerned. She was becoming more and more enthusiastic and excited about the thrills of the unknown. This made her feel as vibrant as she had in her youth, the same way that she had felt when she was merely surviving on the streets of Oakhaven.
She pulled a brush deliberately through her crimson locks and quickly drew some lines around her eyes with some kind of ink and wax combination she’d been using since her days with Marielle.
After a long wait, the half-elven mage, who was notably at the end of her patience, finally spoke.
“Please, dear, we must—”
“Hurry… I know,” Rose finished and gestured for the half-elf to lead the way. She tossed the brush and make-up kit into her pack, slung it over her shoulder and stared after Nimaira, who turned to walk away. She couldn’t help but take one more glance into the mirror. What stared back at her was a young woman who was suddenly eager to reestablish her long lost path in the world.
It was then that she recognized the excitement behind her eyes that had lain dormant for so long.
A loud knocking sounded from Elec’s door that seemed as if it were intended to batter it down.
“Get up, elf!” came the call. Elec heard something outside of his extra-planar workspace and blew out the burners he’d been using for the last few hours.
The door to the room swung open and a dwarf with long white hair and an even longer white beard entered to find what could only be described as a breach between the planes. Rolin Hardbeard’s jaw dropped noticeably.
“Dwarven beards!” he whispered, before continuing again in his normal gruff voice. “What form of sorcery be this?”
The dwarf heard something unclear through the portal, like words, but sounding very garbled. He watched as the portal flickered once more and began to literally shift in and out of this plane, appearing and disappearing back and forth.
“This was a gift from my uncle,” Elec responded matter-of-factly as he walked directly out of the space. He removed the ring on his finger, placing it back into his belt pouch. As he did, the rift disappeared from sight completely as if it had never existed.
“Ye be needed in the Hall’s council chamber,” Rolin stammered, trying hard to pretend the scene was something not out of the ordinary, but failing to do so. The dwarf stood wide-eyed and gaping. “I be seein’ a lot of things, elf…but that is durned weird. It be remindin’ me a bit too much of things Nimaira’s been doin’ ta me.”
“It is time?” Elec asked him, ignoring Rolin’s obvious awkwardness for the sake of the dwarf’s pride. Rolin turned to him and stared for a bit before realizing the elf was talking.
“Aye,” Rolin nodded and stood silently for a moment. “Follow me,” he finally managed, before leading Elec outside and directly toward the meeting hall.
It was quite a team they had collected, Tiyarnon recognized as he watched the two women enter. They came in and sat down—one a red head and the other a blonde. They happened to sit across from one another, exchanging slight nods.
Aeldur and Nimaira had taken their seats around the large oval table after having brought the women here. They were just waiting on Elec and Rolin now.
“You are the barbarian woman from the Tall Tale Tavern,” Rose blurted out to the tattooed woman sitting across the table from her.
“Aye,” Saeunn nodded. “You read the parchment to me there, the tavern with the dwarf—Flinteye was his name.”
“Yes, quite right,” Rose confirmed. “I remember you. I watched as you arm-wrestled the dolt with the muscles and watched Herum and Jarin toss him out on his arse.” Rose laughed and smiled wryly. “He deserved more than he got!”
“Aye, he deserved more,” Saeunn agreed.
“You are an experienced fighter?” Rose asked, though she’d already guessed.
“I am a barbarian of the Chansuk tribe,” Saeunn announced, adjusting her arms to display her tattoos. “My people are…were…great warriors…to be remembered and honored. The god of war himself has blessed me with his influence and my enemies shall run in fear of me.” Saeunn drew looks of appreciation from the opposite end of the table where Tiyarnon and Garius sat. Rose merely gave the woman a nod, turned away and rolled her eyes in disinterest at the dramatically brash statement. Just then, an elf and a dwarf entered the room.
Rose watched the elf, confident in his stride, yet seemingly timid in his mannerisms. She was worried about his part in the upcoming venture immediately, but said nothing. He was striking to look at, she admitted, though his eyes were unusual. He had black pupils and white irises, the opposite of a human. She leveled a scrutinizing gaze upon him under the guise of a pleasant smile. She secretly hoped that he could carry his own on their mission.
Rolin Hardbeard led Elec into the room and found his place at the table. Elec followed closely, fidgeting with his sword beneath his cloak, adjusting it properly in order to take his seat. He finally managed to get the weapon into a comfortable position and gazed upon two females seated on either side of the table.
The one to his left was a red-haired beauty with steel-gray eyes lined with make-up. Those eyes seemed to be indicating an analytical sentience behind them. She displayed a smile that seemed too good to be true. She was dressed in skin-tight, dark leather from head to toe. She wore a cloak draped over her shoulder, which cascaded down her chest and disappeared under the table. He noted the hilt of a dagger protruding from a scabbard—strapped one to each thigh, as she sat cross-legged staring at him. Her gaze lingered and it seemed as though she were sizing him up, all the while smiling a disarming smirk.
The other woman to his right was a tall, muscular woman with tattoos running up and down her tanned arms. Her bright blonde hair was braided in a ponytail and she wore a square of silk cloth tied around her head. This woman possessed a greatsword that rested against the table. The rest of her sleek and toned musculature was displayed proudly and candidly as her armor covered little of her body from her shin all the way up to her chin. What armor there was seemed haggard at best, not quite befitting a warrior of legend, Elec mused, as the Chansuk were.
She seemed a very capable warrior, despite her lack of armor, and he sensed that she’d purposely chosen that lightweight shirt in order to employ speed in her combat styling. She certainly was born of a more solid build than most he’d witnessed of the fairer sex.
She no
w sat in her chair, looking quizzically at him in awe and wonder and he could not understand why. Before she could say anything at all, Garius was between them.
“Elec, this is Saeunn, a barbarian of the Chansuk tribe. She will be joining us on our quest.”
“And what exactly is the quest?” Rose rudely interrupted. His neck craned around and he stared deeply into her eyes as if to remind her of his authority in this mission. Her expression became uneasy after that stare, but then quickly became one of defiance soon after.
“The Oakcrest Mountains, due southeast of here, is where our journey takes us. We will no doubt be enduring our fair share of extreme elements along the way, and snow-covered regions, making our journey a bit more…trying,” Garius explained to them all, staring specifically at the red-haired woman as he spoke.
“As I was saying, Elec…this is Saeunn…,” he let the words trail off, almost inviting Rose to interrupt him again. There was no such disruption forthcoming this time.
Elec bowed deeply before Saeunn. “I have heard of your people and their accomplishments. I will be quite content to journey with any warrior from such a storied past.”
Saeunn nodded her thanks to Elec. She suddenly stared deeply into his eyes. “Your eyes…they are white with …,” she paused, pointing at his eyes. “They are quite unusual.” Elec blushed, feeling uncomfortable.
“Yes, I suppose they are,” he politely responded, not knowing what else to say and turning to regard the other woman, whom Garius now stood behind.
“This is Rose Thorne,” Garius said. “She is a scout with many special skills similar to your own, Elec.”
Rose cleared her throat in a manner suggesting otherwise, Elec surmised.
Elec bowed once more and Rose offered her hand.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Rose,” Elec smiled, bowing and kissing her outstretched hand. She smirked and rolled her eyes incredulously as she’d obviously meant it as a joke. He felt slightly uncomfortable with her disrespectful manner.
“I use the shadows to my advantage as well, and prefer to overcome my challenges with the use of intellect and cunning, rather than that of brute force. Whenever appropriate, of course,” Elec indicated. “Perhaps we can share tales of such things on our journey?”
Rose looked oddly at him and was about to say something, but Garius interjected.
“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that during our passage,” Garius said to him, eyeing Rose again for some reason. She shrugged as if she hadn’t done anything to deserve his ire. Elec had no idea what was happening between the two of them, as she winked at Garius and then to Elec.
“Tiyarnon will tell you all that we know about our task at hand,” Garius stated. And with that, the three of them listened intently to the story that unfolded.
Chapter 13
“That is quite a tale,” Elec admitted once Tiyarnon finished his telling of both the recent and not-so-recent accounts. He and adding what he assumed had befallen his apprentices and former companion. He also informed them of Sadreth’s current state and of the powerful amulet that was stolen. He described its significant and direct connection to Sadreth’s power.
“We should head out immediately,” Garius announced, standing up and absently straightening a seal on his right breastplate, wiping it with his index finger. “There will be a caravan waiting for us. It is loaded with food and supplies for the journey.” He replaced his gauntlet on his hand. “We have estimated our arrival at the Oakcrest Mountains in three weeks or less, even with the inclement weather.”
He gazed across the table at the three he had chosen to accompany him on this quest. He retrieved The Repentant from his back and held it proudly before him. It was etched in runes and pulsed with an aura as he held it. The weapon appeared almost too awkward for Garius to carry, let alone swing, and yet he managed it with ease.
He closed his eyes and stood before them all. “With the aid of the Gods of Order and the three of you, we shall smite our enemies and bring the missing artifact back where it belongs—so speaks Garius Forge, Inquisitor of the Faceless Knights,” he finished, eyes closed, reciting the oath.
“My,” Rose stated, feigning surprise. “That is quite the speech.”
“And quite the weapon,” Elec added, accidentally downplaying Rose’s comment.
“May I?” Saeunn asked Garius, her hand outstretched to receive the weapon. “I have handled weapons of that size in the past and the craftsmanship looks worthy of a capable warrior.”
“The Repentant is specifically designed for me to wield. I doubt you could swing it as easily as you think,” Garius remarked, pausing for a few seconds. “Not because you lack the strength,” he acknowledged, dismissing her challenging stare, “but because it is attuned to me. I wield regenerative energy that infuses the runes with holy power and imbues me with the divine strength to wield it.”
Saeunn did not understand the explanation exactly and furrowed her brow at the apparent challenge to her physical abilities.
“Again, I mean you no lack of respect, Saeunn. You will have to trust me on this,” Garius added.
“I will do that,” Saeunn said as she brightened a little. She seemed accepting of the explanation after a moment of silence, and then returned to gathering up her items and sword.
Tiyarnon gave them all a final wave and a blessing as they finished their conversation and began to head out the door.
“We shall find the apprentices,” Garius assured the high priest.
“Aye,” agreed Tiyarnon. “May The Shimmering One watch over you all.”
“Let us get moving,” Garius instructed as the others fell into line behind him.
“Saeunn!” Aeldur suddenly called after her. “Before you leave, please take this.” The half-elf threw a bundled package of clothes and blankets to the barbarian woman. She nodded, accepting the gift and smiling at him as he matched her grin with one of his own. “It is cold where you are headed.”
She made her way down the hall and continued out the door with the others into the courtyard in front of the Hall of the High Council, where they all gazed upon the magnificent caravan.
This vehicle belonged to Nimaira Silvershade, who had donated it for this journey. It was operated by one of her personal constructs whose sole purpose was to drive this wagon. It was a strange sight to see as there were no sturdy horses hooked to the wagon’s front. Instead there was nothing where the horses would be. It appeared as if it were drawn by something magical or perhaps something on another plane of existence.
Nimaira handed an amulet to Garius that was the key to the construct’s operation. “As long as you wear that, it will heed your words and follow your directions,” Nimaira told Garius as he tucked it away.
“I would speak with Adok,” Elec mentioned, and the Inquisitor nodded his agreement, knowing of the elf’s steed.
Elec made his way through the streets to finally stand before Adok. The elf bent low and whispered to the magical beast.
“I am sorry, dear friend, but the weather will worsen and I have no plans to keep you outside with the probability of storms to come,” Elec explained, offering a handful of seed..
The giant eagle flapped its wings once in apparent argument as Elec patted its beak to dismiss its displeasure at remaining behind. “They will allow you time to fly and hunt for several hours per day, but when you hear the whistle, you must return,” he explained to the bird. With that, Elec handed the whistle to the caretaker in charge, a woman of considerable age, and nodded his consent,
“Do take care of him. He is very dear to me,” Elec said as he made his way back to the caravan, not entirely happy with his decision to leave Adok, but knowing it to be wise, nonetheless.
Shortly after, they all found their seats within the caravan. They heard the snap of a whip from the driver and then there was no other sound except for the unmistakable creak of the wheels as the caravan lurched forward, beginning its journey toward the Oakcrest Mountains.
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Shaman Tukk had communed with the spirits recently and did not understand what they were trying to tell him. He felt many of them within the walls of the temple and had tried to gain some knowledge, but they would not engage him.
They fear Thanatos? The demon lord watches and disapproves of them speaking with me. Tukk confidently deduced.
No matter, he would eventually get what he wanted from one of them. He continued his ritual, burning incense in the corner of the main chamber that was now their command post.
Tukk did sense a spirit further away that tried to reach out to him a few times—and more so recently. It was a humanoid of some kind, but its face appeared as the decayed face of a human man. Each time the visage appeared, it seemed pushed away by another, more powerful spirit. He could not quite gain the information he wanted from it.
Grubb watched the shaman continue the ritual to determine their best avenues and strategies regarding the weather and their environment. He entrusted Tukk with a good deal of his decisions and hoped the shaman would be successful as he had been time and again in the past.
Suddenly, the relative silence was broken by a series of bloodcurdling screams from the southwestern passage that branched off from the main hall. It was the blood chilling cry of a goblin in pain. Then there was a noise that resembled stone cracking, followed by the more clearly defined sound of bones being crushed.
Abruptly the lower remains of the aforementioned goblin were tossed into the room, followed by the upper half. There was light flickering off the partial corpse as some of the orcs hurried to get oil lamps and torches to discover the cause of the commotion. A horrible wail was heard and the trembling of the ground was evident as something very large and very powerful approached.
“Tyrantian Worm?!” exclaimed one of the orcs in horror, referring to a particular bug-like creature of enormous size that frequented the Subterrane.
The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) Page 31