He stood toe to toe with the monolithic reptile, it coiled about the massive rocks and drew back its head. Eoin could see the fire building in the back of the dragon's throat and ducked for cover behind a stone outcropping as the beast unleashed its immolating breath in a great cloud. He could feel his skin blistering as his clothing burst into flames. Rolling upon the ground to extinguish the flames he felt a great shadow blanket him. He looked up to see the wurm's great maw coming down upon him. In a futile gesture he held up his blackened hand as the teeth ripped into his flesh.
Eoin's eyes snapped open as he quickly sat up, his heart pounding in his chest and sweat pouring down his face. He took note of his surroundings and realized he had been dreaming. Dreams like this worried Eoin, they were omens of impending danger. He sat by his fire pit tossed on some wood and stirred the coals bringing it back to life. He watched as the thick smoke rose, looking for portents of the future in the wisps that swirled in the soft valley wind. He stared deep into the soft clouds of smoke until the fire began to die down and the smoke became to thin to read. Visions of dragons always foretold danger and turmoil, but the fire had given him no insight into his premonition. Discouraged by his ineffective augury, Eoin went back to his preparations for the trip home.
The distant sound of crashing hooves brought Eoin to alert. He stepped away from his work, grabbed his spear, and focused on the distant bend downstream. The thunderous charge became louder and within moment Eoin spied the source, a half-dozen horsemen came charging around the outcropping of trees and headed straight for his position. He was not sure what they wanted but they wore the crimson attire of imperial soldiers. He did not balk at their approach, he stood erect but not threatening. As the host drew closer to his camp he noticed their unit crest, a coiled crimson dragon on a circular white field. He paused for a moment, dancing through his mind was a question if this was the danger his dream had foretold. The horsemen slowed as they approached, looking about perhaps wondering if this man was alone or there were enemies amongst the trees. The leader of the group, a middle aged man with a graying beard, rode with a slow cautious walk up to Eoin.
"Are you alone?" The soldier inquired.
Eoin decided to keep his answers very brief, "Yes I am."
"Gather your things boy," he barked, "by order of the Empress all able men of the Empire are conscripted for service in the second army."
Eoin grimaced at the news, he knew he had no choice in the matter, if he refused the Empress would have his village leveled, she endured no dissent in the empire. "I will do as the Empress commands."
The soldier turned his horse around and called back to him, "You have three days to report to Citadel boy, you best get moving." With that the men gathered up and broke into a heavy charge upriver. Eoin watched as the men rode off pondering the fate of his family and friends if he were to disobey. The thought quickly passed from his head and he went about packing his gear and set out toward the Citadel.
<- Previous Page
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Preparations
The tree trembled is the morning sun as Eoin reached the upper branches, each step shaking the ancient boughs like they were caught in a strong spring wind. As he broke free of the dense forest canopy Eoin surveyed the vast rolling landscape of the valley. The sun had set three times since he arrived and he employed the majority of the daylight hours exploring the flourishing land around the quiet river. Eoin held his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun, in the distance he could see a dust cloud rising from over the hills to the north. Whatever it was it was a long ways off, perhaps a stampede or just the wind rushing across dry ground, either way it did not concern him. Meticulously he has studied the land and prepared supplies for a return trip to his village. The valley will be an ideal place to move his family, if even for a short time, till the drought passes. Making mental notes of key landmarks and resources Eoin shimmied back down the tree to the thick underbrush below.
The smoke from his crude smokehouse filtered softly into the warm summer breeze, drifting across the river and up over the hills across the dismal plains. He carefully cut thin strips of meat from latest kill, a small boar, and hung them upon the sticks that crossed through the sod covered tepee he was using to cure the flesh. He tossed some green leaves and wood chips onto the coals and thick white clouds of smoke billowed up enveloping the meat. While the meat cured Eoin set his focus upon a litter he had made from some long branches and the deer's hide. He would have preferred to properly tan the hide but that could take time he did not have if he was going to retrieve his family before they succumb to starvation.
Eoin spent the rest of the day preparing for his trip, he had made two new water-skins from the bladders of the deer and boar. He counted on this being enough for his trip home and then back to the valley. He labored long into the night ceaselessly, taking only but a moment to relieve himself behind a nearby tree. His work completed he lay down on his soft leaf bed to rest for a few hours before the sun rose. In a few moments, under the twin moons dim light, Eoin was asleep.
The smoke from his crude smokehouse filtered softly into the warm summer breeze, drifting across the river and up over the hills across the dismal plains. He carefully cut thin strips of meat from latest kill, a small boar, and hung them upon the sticks that crossed through the sod covered tepee he was using to cure the flesh. He tossed some green leaves and wood chips onto the coals and thick white clouds of smoke billowed up enveloping the meat. While the meat cured Eoin set his focus upon a litter he had made from some long branches and the deer's hide. He would have preferred to properly tan the hide but that could take time he did not have if he was going to retrieve his family before they succumb to starvation.
Eoin spent the rest of the day preparing for his trip, he had made two new water-skins from the bladders of the deer and boar. He counted on this being enough for his trip home and then back to the valley. He labored long into the night ceaselessly, taking only but a moment to relieve himself behind a nearby tree. His work completed he lay down on his soft leaf bed to rest for a few hours before the sun rose. In a few moments, under the twin moons dim light, Eoin was asleep.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Selection Process
He stood with outstretched arms, his eyes covered, and breathing in a slow deep rhythm. His keen ears could hear the soft footsteps of the three men circling him, looking for an opening, waiting to strike. The assailant to his rear moved in first, he heard the man's armor shift signaling an overhand strike. Tobias sidestepped the clumsy attack and in one alacritous motion drew his own blade and brought the flat side down across his foe's back dropping him to his knees. As he brought his armor clad thigh up across the man's chin he could hear his other two attackers moving into flanking positions to charge him. The sound of their hurried steps let Tobias know their angle of attack and the folly with which they made it. He crouched to one knee, swept his right leg in a large circle and brought both men to the ground. His blade streaked through the air like a falling comet ringing mightily as it found the helmet of one of the men knocking him into darkness. His last foe stood and took out his knife, tossing it to the side in hopes to distract the invincible warrior. Tobias turned to where the knife collided with the dusty ground of the training circle and prepared for the incoming attack. His attacker, now sure he had the advantage, sprung to the general's rear to bring his sword to target only to find the hilt of Tobias's longsword across his cheek, breaking his jaw. The man, blood pouring from his mouth, collapsed in intense agony as Tobias removed the shroud covering his eyes. He stood looking down at the defeated men and returned his blade to its scabbard as the cheers of onlookers rose across the courtyard. He strode across the yard to a table where sat a large wooden bucket. He took a cup dipped it within and drew the fresh water to his lips. Garin, Tobias's captain, stepped upside the old general and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
"You are getting old General." He said in a lighthearted tone, "five years ago that dog would never have gotten a second attack."
Tobias smiled, "Five years ago your arm would already be on the ground for such a jest." The two men laughed and sat upon a bench beside the table. Tobias became more serious now, staring out across the courtyard with a furrowed brow. "These conscripts are terrible Captain, have we nothing better?"
The captain nodded in agreement, "We have taken every able man in the city and surrounding farms, this is the lot we have drawn."
Tobias stood up to refill his cup. "Then we need to look beyond the immediate area and draw recruits from the distant villages of the empire." Garin's face reflected his shock at the general's idea. "You do not agree captain?"
Garin rose and held out his arm to his long time compatriot. "The loyalty of the outer villages is weak General but if you command it it will be done." Tobias grasped the captains arm and they locked for a moment gripping each others forearm.
"Do it."
Garin gave a slight bow of respect to his leader, "consider it done sir."
As the captain walked out of the courtyard Tobias sized up the remainder of the conscripts before him. He placed his cup back upon the table, walked back to the training ring and pointed out three new men. He tied the shroud back around his eyes, returned to his neutral stance and commanded "Come at me dogs!"
"You are getting old General." He said in a lighthearted tone, "five years ago that dog would never have gotten a second attack."
Tobias smiled, "Five years ago your arm would already be on the ground for such a jest." The two men laughed and sat upon a bench beside the table. Tobias became more serious now, staring out across the courtyard with a furrowed brow. "These conscripts are terrible Captain, have we nothing better?"
The captain nodded in agreement, "We have taken every able man in the city and surrounding farms, this is the lot we have drawn."
Tobias stood up to refill his cup. "Then we need to look beyond the immediate area and draw recruits from the distant villages of the empire." Garin's face reflected his shock at the general's idea. "You do not agree captain?"
Garin rose and held out his arm to his long time compatriot. "The loyalty of the outer villages is weak General but if you command it it will be done." Tobias grasped the captains arm and they locked for a moment gripping each others forearm.
"Do it."
Garin gave a slight bow of respect to his leader, "consider it done sir."
As the captain walked out of the courtyard Tobias sized up the remainder of the conscripts before him. He placed his cup back upon the table, walked back to the training ring and pointed out three new men. He tied the shroud back around his eyes, returned to his neutral stance and commanded "Come at me dogs!"
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Ritual
Eoin lay upon the carcass of the kill breathing heavily, his heart thumping and blood racing. He has not felt such exhilaration in weeks. Head swimming from the hunt, Eoin rolled to a sitting position in front of the deer and stared into the beasts now vacant eyes. With hand upon the dead hind's head he said a silent prayer to his gods, thanking them for this bounty. Rising to his feet Eoin reached down, grabbed the deer by its rear legs and hoisted it across his broad shoulders.
The walk back to his camp was not long, but the moon cast little light through the trees cover, making the trip difficult. As he emerged from the thick forest and onto the wide bank of the river he could see his legs were bleeding from the scratches and gouges of the sharp underbrush. The pain from the small wounds was minimal but constant enough to be annoying. He made his way to the simple camp and tossed the heavy deer into the lush grass beside his smoldering fire.
Drawing the ancestral blade from his belt he used the wrappings that kept it safe to cleanse the creature's blood from it. Once cleaned he held the knife before the shimmering moons and called out the names of the blade's lineage, kissing the hilt softly after each ancestor was announced and their deeds recalled. The ritual complete, Eoin placed the knife back in its protective covering, carefully tied the sinew, placed the package back into his bag, and sat beside the fire. He took a stick and churned the dying coals exposing the red embers below the covering of ash. His stretched across his pack and grabbed a few small branches and a log and tossed them into the fire, returning it to life. Eoin retrieved his everyday knife from his pack, crawled over to the deer and slowly began to cut it apart.
The walk back to his camp was not long, but the moon cast little light through the trees cover, making the trip difficult. As he emerged from the thick forest and onto the wide bank of the river he could see his legs were bleeding from the scratches and gouges of the sharp underbrush. The pain from the small wounds was minimal but constant enough to be annoying. He made his way to the simple camp and tossed the heavy deer into the lush grass beside his smoldering fire.
Drawing the ancestral blade from his belt he used the wrappings that kept it safe to cleanse the creature's blood from it. Once cleaned he held the knife before the shimmering moons and called out the names of the blade's lineage, kissing the hilt softly after each ancestor was announced and their deeds recalled. The ritual complete, Eoin placed the knife back in its protective covering, carefully tied the sinew, placed the package back into his bag, and sat beside the fire. He took a stick and churned the dying coals exposing the red embers below the covering of ash. His stretched across his pack and grabbed a few small branches and a log and tossed them into the fire, returning it to life. Eoin retrieved his everyday knife from his pack, crawled over to the deer and slowly began to cut it apart.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Hunt
Eoin slept until night was upon him, the cool air brushed across his chest sending a chill through his body, waking him. He stood. Replenished he rubbed his hands together and up and down his arms for warmth, then gathered some firewood. He made a simple circle of stones to cradle the fire and cut some brush to make an appropriate place to sleep. Two vibrant moons, one white, one blue, cast their soothing light down across the valley illuminating the river, creating the illusion it was made of liquid silver. His camp prepared Eoin reached into his bag and pulled out a leather bundle tied together by sinew. Carefully he untied the binding, unwrapped the package and stroked his finger across the glimmering knife he had revealed. This blade was not for cutting brush or hair, not for cutting meat, its sole purpose was to hunt. It had been passed to him by his father and through the family line as long as anyone could remember. It is his most prized possession, his trusted companion, his heritage.
Eoin stowed the knife in his belt and walked down to the river. He placed his hand into the mud and smeared it across his face and chest. He stared back over his shoulder at the thick forest, tonight for the first time in weeks he would have a successful hunt. He moved into the woods in search of tracks or an animal run. The thick brush and the filtered moonlight made the tracking difficult so he took to a tree to gain perspective. From on high, eyes straining, he spied what he was looking for.
Down to the ground he came into the infernal blackness of the close-set timber and the overhanging verdure of the forest. He knelt from time to time and put his sensitive nose to the earth. He searched the game trail with conviction and at last his nostrils were rewarded with the scent of the fresh spoor of his target, "Deer.". Eoin salivated and a deep slow grunt escaped his savage lips. Shed from him was the last glimmer of the thinking man, he was the primeval hunter, the alpha male, a true intuitive beast. Up wind he followed the elusive trail with a sense of perception akin to the great predators. Through counter currents of the heavy stench of carnivora he traced his prey's trail, the unspoiled, delicate musk of the deer's foot.
Presently the strong scent of the deer told Eoin that his prey was close at hand. It sent him springing into the trees - into the wide lower branches where he could search the earth below and catch sight of his target. It was not long before he came upon his prey standing alert at the edge of a pristine moon-bathed glade. Eoin pressed tight against the trunk of the tree and observed the deer for a few moments, had he given away his position? The beast's ears scanned the darkness for evidence of danger, finding none it returned unaware to grazing upon the abundant fauna in the dell. Silent as a shadow Eoin crept through the thick verdant trees until he hovered over the beast. Tightly gripped in his calloused hand was the precious unadorned hunting knife his father had given him. His heart raced, pounding so hard Eoin feared his prey might hear. The blood lust was upon him. For just a moment he poised above the unsuspecting deer and then he launched himself downward upon the smooth cream colored back. The impact of his weight caused the beast's knees to buckle, driving it to the ground with thunderous force. Struggling it let out loud frightened bleat and before the animal could regain its feet the sacred knife had found its heart and the beast was silent.
Eoin stowed the knife in his belt and walked down to the river. He placed his hand into the mud and smeared it across his face and chest. He stared back over his shoulder at the thick forest, tonight for the first time in weeks he would have a successful hunt. He moved into the woods in search of tracks or an animal run. The thick brush and the filtered moonlight made the tracking difficult so he took to a tree to gain perspective. From on high, eyes straining, he spied what he was looking for.
Down to the ground he came into the infernal blackness of the close-set timber and the overhanging verdure of the forest. He knelt from time to time and put his sensitive nose to the earth. He searched the game trail with conviction and at last his nostrils were rewarded with the scent of the fresh spoor of his target, "Deer.". Eoin salivated and a deep slow grunt escaped his savage lips. Shed from him was the last glimmer of the thinking man, he was the primeval hunter, the alpha male, a true intuitive beast. Up wind he followed the elusive trail with a sense of perception akin to the great predators. Through counter currents of the heavy stench of carnivora he traced his prey's trail, the unspoiled, delicate musk of the deer's foot.
Presently the strong scent of the deer told Eoin that his prey was close at hand. It sent him springing into the trees - into the wide lower branches where he could search the earth below and catch sight of his target. It was not long before he came upon his prey standing alert at the edge of a pristine moon-bathed glade. Eoin pressed tight against the trunk of the tree and observed the deer for a few moments, had he given away his position? The beast's ears scanned the darkness for evidence of danger, finding none it returned unaware to grazing upon the abundant fauna in the dell. Silent as a shadow Eoin crept through the thick verdant trees until he hovered over the beast. Tightly gripped in his calloused hand was the precious unadorned hunting knife his father had given him. His heart raced, pounding so hard Eoin feared his prey might hear. The blood lust was upon him. For just a moment he poised above the unsuspecting deer and then he launched himself downward upon the smooth cream colored back. The impact of his weight caused the beast's knees to buckle, driving it to the ground with thunderous force. Struggling it let out loud frightened bleat and before the animal could regain its feet the sacred knife had found its heart and the beast was silent.
Monday, June 21, 2010
The Welcome Serpent
A strong wind blew down from the mountains causing Eoin's hair to flutter. It was still exceptionally hot, but the gust granted him a brief reprieve. The grass was not as dry here and he spotted flecks of green dotting the landscape. As he had thought, there must be water nearby. Eoin daydreamed of finding a clear cool pool deep enough to swim in and rejuvenate himself.
The dusty plain slowly transformed into a verdant hill, no longer did small clouds kick up as he walked, the ground became soft and lush with life. Cresting the hill Eoin cast his gaze down into a deep green valley, he stood just for a moment staring at the narrow river that ran through it and wound up into the mountains. He spied a herd of grazing deer along the far bank, he rubbed his eyes just to be sure this was no mirage. Invigorated by the sight Eoin sauntered down the hill into the valley softly singing his favorite hunting song.
When he reached the bottom of the valley he waded into the river, the cool clear water washed over his body and he paused for a moment giving thanks to the gods for this gift. He sat down and laid his head back into the churning water letting it wash away the filth that had accumulated on his body during his trek. For an hour he bathed and drank of the life giving serpent that slithered across the valley floor. Refreshed he made his way to the far bank, found a small clearing under a pair of great oaks, and lay in the grass staring up at the sky for a few moments until his eyes closed and he was asleep.
The dusty plain slowly transformed into a verdant hill, no longer did small clouds kick up as he walked, the ground became soft and lush with life. Cresting the hill Eoin cast his gaze down into a deep green valley, he stood just for a moment staring at the narrow river that ran through it and wound up into the mountains. He spied a herd of grazing deer along the far bank, he rubbed his eyes just to be sure this was no mirage. Invigorated by the sight Eoin sauntered down the hill into the valley softly singing his favorite hunting song.
When he reached the bottom of the valley he waded into the river, the cool clear water washed over his body and he paused for a moment giving thanks to the gods for this gift. He sat down and laid his head back into the churning water letting it wash away the filth that had accumulated on his body during his trek. For an hour he bathed and drank of the life giving serpent that slithered across the valley floor. Refreshed he made his way to the far bank, found a small clearing under a pair of great oaks, and lay in the grass staring up at the sky for a few moments until his eyes closed and he was asleep.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Encounter
Eoin sat to catch his breath, sweat dripping from every pour. His throat, raw and parched, felt like he had inhaled sand. The sun, still not at its zenith, was beating down on him furiously. His dehydration was severe and he knew he had to find more water soon as he took the last sip from his pouch. With a clenched fist he tried to push every last drop out of the water skin, but it was dry. His head sunk as he closed his eyes for a few moments to gather his thoughts, his tangled mop of hair dropped from his shoulders in a heap of grease and dirt onto his stomach . The sweat from his forehead ran down his face stinging his eyes and pooled at the end of his nose in a large droplet. He rose, tossed his hair back, and wiped his brow with his forearm.
He staggered for hours across the barren land, with each step he weakened but drew closer to his goal. Barely able to walk Eoin used the spear as a crutch, he grasped it with both hands and leaned heavily down upon it, no longer able to take full steps. Every muscle in his body tired, gritting his teeth with each pace he walked on. The blisters on his feet were becoming increasingly painful as he strode causing him to hobble and drag his left foot. "Even if I do reach the mountains will I be strong enough to find water or to hunt?" He drifted to other thoughts, visions of magnificent hunts and large gatherings in the village, anything to keep his mind off failure.
He could see several dark shapes ahead, they were moving but he could not make out through the haze who or what they might be. Eoin quickened his pace, it might be help or even game either way it encouraged him to move. The pain of the blisters intensified but still he broke into a hurried jog, the most he could muster. As he drew closer he recognized the shapes, "Vultures!" He proceeded even faster now almost coming to a full run. His approach did not go unnoticed and the scavengers took to the sky abandoning their meal. Eoin saw the stripped corpse of a water buffalo, it's hide was ripped to shreds and bits of innards littered the ground around it., still there was meat to be had. He pulled out his knife and knelt at the beasts side. Reaching into the creature's still warm torso he felt for the heart, grabbed it and used his knife to cut it free. He bit into it deeply, blood dripped down his cheeks and onto his chest, carefully he sucked all the liquid out that he could then ate the remaining flesh. Sated he sat with his back against the beast and slapped its torn hide with his open palm. "You my friend just saved my life." He smiled and laughed to himself while he rested for just a few minutes.
Feeling stronger Eoin knelt at the side of the beast and cut out several strips of meat and placed them in his pack. His feet still hurt but he got up and set pace toward the mountains. They were growing closer, in his estimation only a few more miles. Hope renewed he trudged on.
He staggered for hours across the barren land, with each step he weakened but drew closer to his goal. Barely able to walk Eoin used the spear as a crutch, he grasped it with both hands and leaned heavily down upon it, no longer able to take full steps. Every muscle in his body tired, gritting his teeth with each pace he walked on. The blisters on his feet were becoming increasingly painful as he strode causing him to hobble and drag his left foot. "Even if I do reach the mountains will I be strong enough to find water or to hunt?" He drifted to other thoughts, visions of magnificent hunts and large gatherings in the village, anything to keep his mind off failure.
He could see several dark shapes ahead, they were moving but he could not make out through the haze who or what they might be. Eoin quickened his pace, it might be help or even game either way it encouraged him to move. The pain of the blisters intensified but still he broke into a hurried jog, the most he could muster. As he drew closer he recognized the shapes, "Vultures!" He proceeded even faster now almost coming to a full run. His approach did not go unnoticed and the scavengers took to the sky abandoning their meal. Eoin saw the stripped corpse of a water buffalo, it's hide was ripped to shreds and bits of innards littered the ground around it., still there was meat to be had. He pulled out his knife and knelt at the beasts side. Reaching into the creature's still warm torso he felt for the heart, grabbed it and used his knife to cut it free. He bit into it deeply, blood dripped down his cheeks and onto his chest, carefully he sucked all the liquid out that he could then ate the remaining flesh. Sated he sat with his back against the beast and slapped its torn hide with his open palm. "You my friend just saved my life." He smiled and laughed to himself while he rested for just a few minutes.
Feeling stronger Eoin knelt at the side of the beast and cut out several strips of meat and placed them in his pack. His feet still hurt but he got up and set pace toward the mountains. They were growing closer, in his estimation only a few more miles. Hope renewed he trudged on.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Asara's Sanctuary
Tobias felt the warm, sulfur filled air from within the sanctuary blowing out through the entryway. It has been several years since he set foot within the the Citadel, but the scent of this chamber was so familiar it seemed only a moment since he was last here. He straightened, sucked in his slightly round stomach, and passed through the arc.
The empress sat upon a large carved wooden swing, it's iron chains extended up to the dimly lit ceiling, creaking as she swung back and forth. Shadows danced across the room as she passed back and forth through the light cast by two giant copper braziers. She seemed childlike in the momentary joy of such a simple thing as riding the old swing. Tobias saw the smile upon her face as she swept back and forth with eyes closed, a smile that made him think just for a moment that her soul was not black as pitch. Her long red hair draped the floor each time she lent back on the forward swing and her sleek black gown flipped up revealing her bronzed muscular legs. She was no delicate flower.
He watched for a few more moments before interrupting with a cough, "Ahem..." Asara opened her eyes and looked at Tobias, he had forgotten just how deep the green of her eyes was. "You sent for me Empress."
She pulled her feet down dragging them along the floor to stop the swing. With a simple gesture she brushed her hair away from her face and motioned him to her. She rest her back against one of the chains and put her feet upon the swing wrapping her arms around her knees. Tobias stepped forward and knelt before the young woman who controlled the known world.
She raised her left eyebrow, giving him a look a parent might cast upon a toddler, "Do you know why I have called you here?"
Tobias had no fear of this girl he had seen more summers than she had months, her stare did not cow him as it would anyone else in the empire. "I have heard of the mistakes made by less competent generals my empress." He looked directly into her eyes, something few would dare to do. "I am here to correct those mistakes," he said with conviction.
Smirking, Asara rest her chin upon her right palm. "Always confident Tobias." She was not mocking him, she had as much respect for him as she could a servant. "What do you propose?"
He was not hesitant in his response, "Empress we shall rebuild your army, hunt those that betrayed you, then crush the savages that dare to defy your rule. I will see all bow to your banner."
Asara stood, her hand held out to the kneeling warrior, Tobias took her hand and kissed the large black diamond that lie in the center of her imperial emblem. She smirked and patted him on the head. "Good boy Tobais ." She held out her hand and motioned to the shadows, a young girl clothed in black silk hurried forth with a silver goblet and held it before the empress. Asara accepted the goblet and took a light sip from it motioning the girl away with her other hand. "You can go now General."
Tobias rose and bowed again, "As you command empress," then turned and walked out of the room.
Asara returned to her swing, cast out her feet, closed her eyes, and for the moment was again lost in the joy of being a child.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Tobias Arrives
From over the hill the man could hear the sound of horses at full gallop, he could see the massive cloud of dust that poured into the air from their hooves. He stood staring, waiting to see what was charging toward his farm with such earnest. After a few moments he saw the first rider, a massive man with arms like tree trunks dressed in the armor of the empire. The rest of the leader's host followed close behind as he bore down on his mount to press it for more speed. The farmer caught only a blurred glimpse of the men as they charged down the road, but could see plainly the bright red banner one of the horsemen carried. The orange and yellow helm that adorned the banner let him know this could be only one man, Tobias, High General of the Kalbrockian Empire. He bowed in respect as the men passed, unnoticed by the dozen or so riders as they rode with purpose toward the Citadel.
Tobias rounded the corner with such speed his horse lost its footing and began to fall, he quickly pulled upon the reins, shifted his weight, and righted the mount. He jabbed the beast's side with his spurs to encourage it to race faster. His men, now fifty lengths behind, struggled to keep pace with their general as he rode toward the black gates of the Citadel.
As the old general drew closer to the gates one of his men sounded a horn, the deep bellowing of the alarm echoing like an unnatural beast in pain. The gates before him opened so that he did not need to break stride and he rode straight into the courtyard. He pulled up on the horse, kicking up a wide cloud of dust, as he approached the marble stairs that led into the inner keep. Tobias dismounted with cat like grace, and in one fluid motion was already several paces up the stairs when his mount collapsed in the dust dead. The rest of Tobias's company rode in through the gate as the general passed through the great rune covered arch and into the keep.
He made his way rapidly down the dimly lit hall taking no time to notice Asara's aid Guideon who was running to catch up to him. Guideon used both hands to pick up his robe as he ran so as not to trip upon the folds of cloth, he caught up to Tobias half way down the hall.
"General," Guideon said in between breaths, "the Empress is in her sanctuary awaiting you."
Tobias did not break stride, still looking straight ahead. "I take it since she has summoned me out of retirement all is not well."
Guideon hurried to keep pace, adjusting his hat as it slid sideways off his head, "The campaign into the Ultwere has failed miserably, the army has been destroyed and her generals have deserted or been slain."
For just a moment Tobias paused, looking at the much smaller man, "I am surprised you still live toad, news like this usually whips the Empress into such a rage she is apt to kill anyone." the general straightened his head and focused upon the stairway down to the sanctuary. Guideon paused at the top of the stairs as Tobias descended.
"I have a talent for survival and going unseen general," Guideon called down the stairs. He watched as Tobias disappeared down the dark stairwell and whispered words of luck to the general, words Tobias could not hear.
Tobias rounded the corner with such speed his horse lost its footing and began to fall, he quickly pulled upon the reins, shifted his weight, and righted the mount. He jabbed the beast's side with his spurs to encourage it to race faster. His men, now fifty lengths behind, struggled to keep pace with their general as he rode toward the black gates of the Citadel.
As the old general drew closer to the gates one of his men sounded a horn, the deep bellowing of the alarm echoing like an unnatural beast in pain. The gates before him opened so that he did not need to break stride and he rode straight into the courtyard. He pulled up on the horse, kicking up a wide cloud of dust, as he approached the marble stairs that led into the inner keep. Tobias dismounted with cat like grace, and in one fluid motion was already several paces up the stairs when his mount collapsed in the dust dead. The rest of Tobias's company rode in through the gate as the general passed through the great rune covered arch and into the keep.
He made his way rapidly down the dimly lit hall taking no time to notice Asara's aid Guideon who was running to catch up to him. Guideon used both hands to pick up his robe as he ran so as not to trip upon the folds of cloth, he caught up to Tobias half way down the hall.
"General," Guideon said in between breaths, "the Empress is in her sanctuary awaiting you."
Tobias did not break stride, still looking straight ahead. "I take it since she has summoned me out of retirement all is not well."
Guideon hurried to keep pace, adjusting his hat as it slid sideways off his head, "The campaign into the Ultwere has failed miserably, the army has been destroyed and her generals have deserted or been slain."
For just a moment Tobias paused, looking at the much smaller man, "I am surprised you still live toad, news like this usually whips the Empress into such a rage she is apt to kill anyone." the general straightened his head and focused upon the stairway down to the sanctuary. Guideon paused at the top of the stairs as Tobias descended.
"I have a talent for survival and going unseen general," Guideon called down the stairs. He watched as Tobias disappeared down the dark stairwell and whispered words of luck to the general, words Tobias could not hear.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Breakfast
Eoin cracked open one eye as the sunlight slowly filtered over the plain, his shoulder sore from sleeping against the rocks. He reached his hand to the back of his neck and pulled in an attempt to work out the knot, his muscles stretched and the pain faded into a dull reminder of the rough night. Even with the sun just peeking over the horizon he could feel the temperature rising quickly, it was going to be another sweltering day. He grabbed his spear with both hands and pressed it into the ground to help keep his balance as he rose. He reached down, grabbed his pack, and slung the bag over his shoulder. A large black beetle scurried away from its hiding place under the pack and disappeared into a burrow under one of the boulders. Eoin threw his pack and spear to the ground, straddled one of the smaller rocks, and gripping the underside pulled as hard as he could. This feat would not normally be so taxing, but in his weakened state he became aware of every muscle in his leg and back as he strained to lift the stone. Slowly the dirt around the rock gave way and his side lifted like on a hinge. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he was breathing heavily and rapidly through gritted teeth as he turned the stone over. As the boulder fell, he collapsed to a sitting position for a few seconds then crawled quickly to where the rock once rest. It was as he had hoped, hundreds of insects inhabited the space once protected by the sheltering rock. He grabbed a large beetle, and as it thrashed in his hand, bit it in half taking little time to chew before he tossed the rest in his mouth. It was not the best meal he ever ate but it would do in these lean times. Another dozen of the undersides inhabitants met the same fate, the rest scattering to new hiding places among the rocks. Eoin was not full by any means but he felt much better than he had in a few days. He pulled his water pouch from his pack and drank a mouthful, he had only a little water left and knew it was best to save it as long as he could. Eoin stood up, dusted himself off, gathered his belongings and started for the distant mountains.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Eoin the Hunter
The sun broke from behind the clouds and struck down upon the lone bare chested man as he crossed the dry plains. His lank, muscular frame cast a long thin shadow over the cracked ground, and shriveled grass crunched and broke beneath the weight of his boots as he pressed onward toward the looming mountains in the distance. His spear, worn and crusted from hunting, made an excellent walking stick as he traversed the once fertile landscape in search of game.
The drought has been hard on Eoin's village, the crops have withered and the once abundant wild life have been driven by starvation away from the blighted land. He had never ventured this far from home in search of his quarry, but perhaps in the shadow of the mountains, run off from the snowmelt has harbored life in the parched countryside. It is what his instincts, honed by years of study, tell him.
As the day wore on Eoin's hunger became increasingly evident, aside for the rumbling from his stomach, he felt a sense of weakness that he was unaccustomed to. Night approached and he could feel the chill that passed over the plains after sundown washing over him. With the mountains still miles away he took shelter behind a gathering of half buried boulders, gathered some kindling, and prepared a fire. As the sun set Eoin peered out across the desolate plain into the twilight searching for life, but alas, he was alone.
He stared as his fire danced in the night wind, cracking and popping, sometimes blowing in two directions at once as swirls of wind pressed across the land. He leaned back against the rocks, which were warmed by the fire, and spear at his side, closed his eyes. He drifted in and out of a light sleep as the night grew longer, occasionally waking with a start to an unknown sound in the distance only to find himself alone in this cursed place.
"How much longer will this drought last?" he asked himself as he closed his eyes, "what will tomorrow bring?" With that thought deep in his mind, Eoin slipped into a deep sleep.
The drought has been hard on Eoin's village, the crops have withered and the once abundant wild life have been driven by starvation away from the blighted land. He had never ventured this far from home in search of his quarry, but perhaps in the shadow of the mountains, run off from the snowmelt has harbored life in the parched countryside. It is what his instincts, honed by years of study, tell him.
As the day wore on Eoin's hunger became increasingly evident, aside for the rumbling from his stomach, he felt a sense of weakness that he was unaccustomed to. Night approached and he could feel the chill that passed over the plains after sundown washing over him. With the mountains still miles away he took shelter behind a gathering of half buried boulders, gathered some kindling, and prepared a fire. As the sun set Eoin peered out across the desolate plain into the twilight searching for life, but alas, he was alone.
He stared as his fire danced in the night wind, cracking and popping, sometimes blowing in two directions at once as swirls of wind pressed across the land. He leaned back against the rocks, which were warmed by the fire, and spear at his side, closed his eyes. He drifted in and out of a light sleep as the night grew longer, occasionally waking with a start to an unknown sound in the distance only to find himself alone in this cursed place.
"How much longer will this drought last?" he asked himself as he closed his eyes, "what will tomorrow bring?" With that thought deep in his mind, Eoin slipped into a deep sleep.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Asara, the Empress Sanguine
Asara sat restlessly upon her burnished throne, she could hear the messenger coming down the hallway to deliver the news of her campaign into the Ultwere. His hesitant footsteps relaying the message in advance, the news was not going to be to her liking. As the shabby man walked into the throne room, enervated by the distance of his journey, Asara reached for the blade that rest upon the throne's arm. The messenger moved forward cautiously, took a knee at the base of the dais, and bowed his head.
"And what news of glorious victory do you bring me," Asara asked sarcastically.
"I. I fear," the man said stumbling to get the words out, "I fear the army was routed, a total loss."
Asara stood, blade in hand, and casually walked down the steps from her throne to the man. "A total loss." she said in a soft whimsical tone. She slowly brought the knife up twisting it and touching the sharp point to her finger as she descended closer. "What of my generals?"
The messenger could hear her coming down the steps but dared not look up and meet what he assumed was a gaze that would pierce his heart. He cleared his throat and with all the courage he could muster, spoke. "General Gurien fled with his elites, Borlik and his host followed soon after, only General Vincent stood against the barbarian throng. Every last man was slain."
The Empress now circled the cowering man, she could smell the sweat that was pouring from his brow, a smell of fear. "Every last man you say? It seems at least one survived, doesn't it?"
He began to sob softly as Asara leaned in toward him waiting for his answer. He knew he was about to die, mercy was unknown to her. "I am sorry Empress, I was commanded to.." The man never finished his sentence as her blade ripped across his throat, he fell to the floor and with blurred vision caught a brief glimpse of the back of Asara's long crimson hair as she returned to her throne before he died.
She stood in front of the throne for just a moment, thinking or perhaps plotting, then turned to her aid, who had remained quite silent during this meeting for fear of misplaced anger. "Get this coward out of here and summon Tobias," she shouted.
"Yes Empress," her servant replied. He grabbed the lifeless body of the fallen soldier and dragged it from the room.
After he was gone Asara slumped into her throne, resting her head against one arm and casting her feet up over the other. She sighed and muttered to herself "Fools and cowards, I am surrounded by fools and cowards".
"And what news of glorious victory do you bring me," Asara asked sarcastically.
"I. I fear," the man said stumbling to get the words out, "I fear the army was routed, a total loss."
Asara stood, blade in hand, and casually walked down the steps from her throne to the man. "A total loss." she said in a soft whimsical tone. She slowly brought the knife up twisting it and touching the sharp point to her finger as she descended closer. "What of my generals?"
The messenger could hear her coming down the steps but dared not look up and meet what he assumed was a gaze that would pierce his heart. He cleared his throat and with all the courage he could muster, spoke. "General Gurien fled with his elites, Borlik and his host followed soon after, only General Vincent stood against the barbarian throng. Every last man was slain."
The Empress now circled the cowering man, she could smell the sweat that was pouring from his brow, a smell of fear. "Every last man you say? It seems at least one survived, doesn't it?"
He began to sob softly as Asara leaned in toward him waiting for his answer. He knew he was about to die, mercy was unknown to her. "I am sorry Empress, I was commanded to.." The man never finished his sentence as her blade ripped across his throat, he fell to the floor and with blurred vision caught a brief glimpse of the back of Asara's long crimson hair as she returned to her throne before he died.
She stood in front of the throne for just a moment, thinking or perhaps plotting, then turned to her aid, who had remained quite silent during this meeting for fear of misplaced anger. "Get this coward out of here and summon Tobias," she shouted.
"Yes Empress," her servant replied. He grabbed the lifeless body of the fallen soldier and dragged it from the room.
After he was gone Asara slumped into her throne, resting her head against one arm and casting her feet up over the other. She sighed and muttered to herself "Fools and cowards, I am surrounded by fools and cowards".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)