Several days had passed since Barandir and Lonkar were confined to the small wooden mansion, the cloudy skies had released a steady downpour since, with the occasional thunder. It was on one such occasion that Lonkar, looking out on the bright flickers of lightning and casually commented.
"Looking back it was quite lucky that the zeppelin passed through that thunderstorm, it should've cleansed it from any lingering resentment and spirits that might be clinging onto to it" he sighed lightly, as the memory of the recent events passed through his mind, he was no stranger to tragedy.
With a slight jolt at the uncle's voice, Barandir looked up from the divan, which by all means and purposes he was simply resting on, while the small child slept on his chest, the truth however was that he was going through the warrior arts that he remembered, trying to see if there were any that could be repurposed, it was a tedious job "What do you mean uncle?" he asked genuinely curious, he had seen plenty of so called 'haunted' battlefields and abandoned campsites and ghostly woods, but what he had never seen was an actual ghost, however the casual certainty that the uncle had spoken with had piqued his interest.
Lonkar raised an eyebrow as he focused his one eye on Barandir "you seem to have forgotten more than I garnered when I found you" his fingers gently rapped the cover of the book he was holding, as a strained silence spread in the room, however Barandir didn't seem bothered, but simply continued looking curiously at the man. Lonkar shook his head lightly as he continued "ghosts, evil spirits and other vile otherworldly spawn, is weak against lightning, lightning contains traces of cleansing spirits and is evil abhorrent, it is the bane of devil worshippers, necromancers and the like" as he explained he seemed to get somewhat engrossed in what he was saying, and quietly and swiftly replaced his book with his pipe, and before long he was puffing away on it "It is interesting, as human beings contain trace elements of lightning, in fact it is what moves our bodies!" he said excitedly, completely ignoring the shocked expression on Barandir's face "but then how can a human be possessed? Well it is simple nephew, the lightning that moves us contains only our own spirit, it is different than that of lightning from the skies" As if on cue a loud thunderclap exploded in the heavens above "Normal humans are limited in how fast they can physically and mentally react because of this, however warriors transform their bodies, allowing the pathways of the lightning to become smoother, and enhancing their natural lightning, whereas mages awaken hidden senses and enhance their lightning too, but in a different way entirely" he took a few puffs before he continued "in fact the dwarves tried to harness artificial lightning, but unfortunately that too was possessed by the cleansing spirits, making it wild and unpredictable, although it has been many decades since they were actively researching this phenomena, I can confirm that they still attempt occasionally, as I have corresponded with some, who wish to try and calm the spirits inhabiting the lightning with runes and diagrams, but so far there has been no success!" he rose up and opened the window, letting the smoke out, and letting a fresh breeze in.
Lightning was produced in humans? Dwarves tried to harness it? It could cleanse ghosts and spirits? Barandir had just been bombarded with a lot of information that he had never heard of before, when he closed his eyes again, he had a hard time concentrating on the warrior arts, as he began trying to feel this trace element of lightning. He still had many questions for the uncle regarding these ghosts and spirits their resentment and how they could linger, however he wasn't in a hurry, there would be time to delve further into these mysteries in the future.
. . . . .
Water dripped down from the tent's entrances in cascades, every drop of rain drowned out by another in a cacophony of hollow splashing sounds as they collided against the oily canvas. Within sat Moran, his icy blue eyes intently reading a small letter in his hands, it was the response, to the query for assistance, which he had send covertly to the Crowborne clan a week prior when he had apprehended the two nobles. He hadn't asked for a ransom, but rather support in sabotaging the noble clan of WylderWolf with whom he was currently engaged in a pre-emptive war with. Of course in the letter he had reassured that they wouldn't want to hold the southern lands of Taoru'un for long, but just for a period so that the clans in Taoru'un would lend aid to Salk in return for the captured land. The response however had been curt, and to the point, but the content hadn't been amiable at all.
"Lieutenant!" he spoke coldly, and with a pointed tone.
"Yes sir!" a slim mage in a battle-mage armour entered the tent from the outside, despite the rain he was still dry. The insides of the tent were bright from a floating ring of bright blue light in the tent's ceiling, illuminating the cluttered decorative style within. There were bookshelves and chests filled with books, maps, scrolls, and strange tools. A large realistic looking model of the area was present in the middle of the tent, at times parts of it displaying realistic cloud movement and people movement. The lieutenant knew that the realism only appeared whenever the brigadier general's summoned creatures crossed certain areas, but it didn't make it any less impressive, as a mage himself, he couldn't help but admire the man's skill.
"Ask advisor Rosalin to come to my quarters." he spoke whilst he got up and began pacing the room thoughtfully, completely ignoring the man who had yet to leave the tent.
The lieutenant bowed with one hand across his chest, and quickly left the room.
. . . . .
The sounds of the ongoings of the army were largely drowned out by the downpour, and allowed Moran to collect his thoughts, perhaps he had been hoping for too much when he had contacted the Crowborne clan, but he would never have expected such indifference. He would have to wait for Rosalin, she would surely know what to do! His hand ran through his thin hair as he glanced over the letter again, his thin long fingers running down the parchment, reaffirming that there was no hidden message within.
"...You called for me..." a slow and sultry voice spoke out casually.
Moran almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to the female who had casually seated herself in the tent's central chair. Her legs were crossed as she leant back lazily, her moss green eyes observing the man in front of her.
A vague shiver went down his spine as he observed her, she was a woman of many mysteries, her deep purple indigo skin colour, and pointed ears made it clear to any that she was of the dark elf race, however what subspecies she was from, remained a mystery to the Salk army. "...Ye..yes!" he finally responded. It wasn't that he was enamoured by her voluptuous shape or the tight black pants and slightly open turquoise shirt that drenched it, no, he feared the female mage in front of him, every instinct in his body told him to not be in the same room as her, for he was the prey, and she the predator. He pulled out the letter and handed it to her.
Her eyes darted away from the brigadier general to the letter in her hands, allowing the man to breathe a little.
' Addressed to Brigadier General Moran,
The young scion of the Crowborne family has been assumed dead for years, and whomever is accompanying him cannot possibly be the esteemed runic researcher Lonkar Crowborne.
Do with them as you wish.
Sincerest,
Patriarch of the Crowborne Clan,
Crowborne, Finn'
A neat wax stamp with the Crowborne insignia was visible next to the signature. She took a deep sigh, as her eyes lost their focus, the petty squabbles of nobles and humans, it was obvious that this Finn wished for them to take care of his 'problem' while he feigned ignorance 'how original' she thought to herself with a light shake of her head, her pale green hair falling in a droop next to her. How much longer would she have to complete these mindless missions before she had passed her test, how much longer would she have to use fake names and infiltrate minor kingdoms, cities, governments academies and noble clans? She missed her home and her family, and she had been on edge for a couple of years now. She looked back up at Moran 'the moron' she thought amusedly to herself, he was shivering from her aura, she had quickly tired of men drooling at the sight of her, the attention had been fun at first, but hardly more than a distraction.
"Runic researcher, huh?" she murmured in a low voice as she stood up, she glanced in the direction of Moran "let me have a conversation with this man, and then I'll decide what to do".
. . . . .
The entire zeppelin had been locked down since it had landed a week prior, much to the crew's chagrin. There was however, little to be done about it.
From drizzles to heavy downpour, from thunder and lightning to quiet skies, the unsteady storm didn't seem as if it would let down anytime soon. The streets were muddy, and every-time a passenger of the zeppelin stepped out or in, they brought with them a trail of dirt. Except for one man, the small Azoth dwarf, whether inside or out, he was always dry and proper. As so, he entered the zeppelin in a relaxed manner, and carefully strolled through the now largely barren, and quiet hallways.
Inside the zeppelin, sitting in a rather lavish room, sat Avicia, Fremont, Sam and Mezcah. They were awaiting news from the dwarf, they hadn't been wasting the previous week, as they had used this period to gather information and survey and scout the area. Although the military had been watching them, the Salk army was hardly too capable, especially considering the abilities of the three of them.
"...I'm sorry, but I simply do not follow you there Avicia?" Mezcah questioned audibly, as she sat by the window sill blankly looking outside.
With a slight heave of frustration Avicia opened her mouth to explain her confusion once more "You see Mezcah" She began slowly, her hands moving along with her wording "Mr. Gabbro, if that is even his real name, is an Azoth dwarf, and as I explained previously they stem from the quicksilver mountain range Mercurious located between three countries and the Snow Dragon territory in our home continent of Ma'Ra'Gol, their species is a subspecies of dwarves, but one which is only found in Mercurious, how exactly they originated is a mystery still, they are part mercury, their veins run thick with quicksilver, and all of them are born mages with strong illusionary magics, they work for anyone who will pay them enough, assassination, infiltration, information gathering, destabilisation, and any tasks that require stealth, they are as feared as they are hated!" She exclaimed in exasperation, and before she could speak more, she was interrupted by Mezcah.
"I understand that much, what I don't get is why you doubt his sincerity, didn't he say that he needed safe passage through Taoru'un, even if his character is shady, this seems pretty straightforward, no?" she responded earnestly.
Avicia's face started getting slightly red, what was it that made this mage so naïve! Luckily before she could say something that she would regret, she was interrupted by her brother.
"It isn't so simple Mezcah! If he is an Azoth dwarf, that travels this far, into another continent, then he must be very capable, if he is so capable, then he should easily be able to sneak across the border and through Taoru'un, this should hardly be an issue for him" Fremont explained patiently, Mezcah had never even heard of the Azoth Dwarf race, so it was hardly surprising that she didn't fully grasp the reality surrounding this truth.
She looked sceptically at the siblings, by nature she was trusting, although in the past she had witnessed great betrayal, that had not left her personal believes scarred, but it was clear that the siblings carried a great mistrust for this Gabbro, she looked back at the two, her eyes focusing "I trust you both, so I'll believe you when you tell me that he is not to be trusted" both the siblings seemed delightfully relieved at her agreement "But!" she held up a finger"regardless of whether we can trust him, we should still work with him, if he is as great as you believe, then it'll only aid our quest for saving our companions!".
Avicia having calmed down, and regained her normal demeanour responded collectedly "I agree with you friend, but I fear that the help will come at a price, far outweighing any gain we might receive now" her intense gaze serious, as she looked straight in Mezcah's fearless eyes.
Meanwhile Sam was nervously tapping his foot against the floor, he felt that the expression, out of the frying pan, into the fire, was befitting his current situation. He was ready to do what he needed to do to help his friend, but that didn't mean that it would be easy for him.
The door opened abruptly as Gabbro stepped inside, it was unknown if he had been able to hear any of their conversation, however as usual he was smiling sneakily, his character prim and proper, he didn't seem to register the three pair of eyes that were staring at him intensely "When the sun begins to set, our plan can be put into motion" he said exuberantly, as he closed the door behind him with a slam.
. . . . .
Moran opened the door for Rosalin as they entered the temporary residence of Barandir and Lonkar. It was clear that Moran was fidgety in the presence of the woman as he sweated lightly while his eyes darted nervously. Rosalin was used to this, when certain individuals reached a degree of power high enough, in either magic or the warrior arts, their bodies would be so entrenched in either natural energy or mana that they would release an oppressing aura unwittingly, making anyone in its presence feel a strong pressure, it was similar to a baby facing an adult. She appeared imposing and awe inspiring, and because she hadn't been in a good mood she also purposefully filled her aura with a menace.
Upon entering the room, she saw two men sitting around a small table, one of them was smoking a pipe, whereas the other was holding a small baby from the Luna Dryad race, they both looked up at her and Moran, as they had entered the room.
She noted that the middle-aged man, whom must be Lonkar, was emitting a powerful source of mana from his covered up eye, furthermore he was certainly also disturbed by her aura, although not as badly as Moran. It was natural, especially mages were sensitive to aura pressure, their wills weren't honed the way a warrior's was. Her gaze shifted to the younger man, who looked her straight in the eye, she didn't sense a tinge of fear or change in the man... It bothered her! Some minor noble, who had done nothing but awaken as a mage, but who had obviously not practised any magic, could look her, HER, straight in the eye without so much as a bother. It took a lot these days for her to get bothered by anything mundane, but somehow this irked her!
"Shouldn't you..." she began.
. . . . .
Barandir and Lonkar had been in the middle of talking about the arrangements they would have to do for the baby when they got back home, and how they should explain this new responsibility they had taken upon themselves, when they were interrupted by Moran and a female with a strange skin colour, it had been clear to Barandir that the curvy lady with a slim waist was in charge, he could feel his spine tingling when she looked him in the eye. Not that he was too bothered by it, they were already captives, being out-powered by her, would hardly change anything, it wasn't as if they could take on the army outside the front door if she wasn't there.
As Barandir's eyes shifted back to the uncle, he heard the lady speaking, but he interrupted her as he continued the previous conversation with Lonkar.
"We really should come up with a name uncle, we can't just call the baby it, or that there, or the thing, or she, for much longer" he said calmly, ignoring the presence of the two newly arrived 'guests'.
Lonkar was caught off-guard momentarily, as he could feel the incredible power of the female dark elf who had entered the room, he could feel his hair had risen on his skin as a natural reaction to her presence, she wasn't the most powerful mage he had met, but the unhidden hostility she released, made him worried, but what surprised him was his nephew's carefree attitude to it all, and somehow that broke the spell that her menacing aura had had on him "um, yes, yes, I strongly agree nephew, we should come up with a name, but... " he looked back up at the two, and rose up from his chair "It would be impolite not to introduce ourselves to our host, and such a charming guest" he spoke smoothly, albeit somewhat nervously.
Rosalin's eyes had constricted a little as she had been interrupted and ignored by Barandir, but she had caught herself, and reminded herself that to get annoyed by someone who was basically a child would be very foolish of her, she was beyond that, and certainly part of her mission was to temper not only her abilities, but herself as well. She smiled a small beautiful smile as she realised that she still had plenty to learn.
As Lonkar introduced himself and his nephew and asked them both to sit, she agreed and sat down comfortably. Moran however remained standing by the door, she didn't mind, and left him there without a comment.
With a cold smile she began speaking "I am Rosalin, the advisor for the Salk army" had it not been for her aura, then maybe the sight of her dark red lips might've been a sight to behold, but currently nobody in the room felt a fancy for the elf "We have contacted your family upon our own behest" she explained her arms spreading out "unfortunately they don't seem to believe that you are who you claim to be?" she finished questioningly, her eyes sparkling from the last glimmer of sunlight that passed through the skies, as the sun set.
Lonkar frowned deeply, if their family wouldn't help them out, and even denied that they were in fact who they claimed to be, then the Salk army could get away with getting rid of them, if they so wished, maybe he could talk around the issue, but he felt that a straightforward approach would be better, so he asked candidly "then why aren't we dead? What use do we have? And what can we do to get out of this ordeal" he held his hand up before anyone could talk "and please don't patronize us by calling us guests again".
Rosalin released a melodious chuckle at the candid questions, yes this was how it should be, she liked these types of people, she couldn't help but glance at Moran who was the exact opposite "well" she looked at Lonkar with her full attention "I heard that you are quite well-known as a runic researcher?" She withdrew the menace from her aura as she got more comfortable in her seat, allowing Lonkar to collect himself and answer more comfortably.
It didn't take long before he was talking about some of the research he had done, to which Rosalin was simply nodding and giving vague answers in response. Meanwhile Moran was standing in the corner quietly, containing no small amount of shock, as this was the first time, that he had seen any genuine interest present itself in the mysterious advisor.
Barandir wasn't a fool, while he was playing casually with the baby, he was half listening to the conversation between the uncle and Rosalin. He knew that with the negotiations having faltered in the way that they did, well, things weren't looking good for him and Lonkar, had it only been Moran, maybe they could've killed and or taken the man hostage, but with Rosalin present it diminished this possibility, especially considering the baby that they were now responsible for. It would appear that the only reason they hadn't been executed or put in some sort of holding cell was because this Rosalin, had an interest in the uncle's research. However what if that interest faded? What if she only wanted to talk for a moment? He looked back at the small innocent baby, a slight frown forming on his forehead.
Steeling himself, Barandir looked up at Rosalin "I apologize for interrupting" he spoke unhurriedly, as he locked eyes with Rosalin, his uncle stumbled in his words as he stopped speaking "Regardless of our fate" he nodded towards Lonkar "the babe is innocent, its relation to us is not one of blood" he got out of his seat slowly, and knelt on one knee "please promise me that no harm will come to it" despite kneeling, his gaze never left her moss green eyes, every word was spoken carefully and full of resolve.
Rosalin's red lips parted in a mischievous smile, seemingly unperturbed "and if I don't?" she dared with her melodious voice.
Whatever game the lady was playing, he wasn't sure of her intentions, but at her response he felt his heart quench, sadness filled him as his eyes showed pity, he could feel his blood pump violently, and the suppressing thought not kill mages disappeared like smoke! "Then DAMN YOU!" the pity turned ferocious, in but a moments notice, as his blood lust and his battle-aura exploded, at some point he had picked up his cane, like a viper striking at its prey, it transformed into a razor sharp spear, diving head-first at Rosalin!
Her eyes widened in horror at the sudden assault, their vicinity was no more than half a meter, the spear penetrated her chest before she had time to respond!
Moran could barely believe the sudden development, and just as he readied himself for action, he was struck down by a blackened skeleton that had appeared in his shadow. Its rusty blade had split the mage in two, and blood spewed like a fountain as he split apart in a sickening wet sound. The skeleton instantly turned towards the door and assumed a fighting stance.
Lonkar looked at the elf, who no more than seconds ago had had gleaming and lifelike eyes, but now they were glazed over, a trickle of blood running out of her mouth. He had felt her power, yet somehow there she had fallen, the curse of the mages! Unprepared and close quarters, every mage's natural enemy. He shook his head as he looked at Barandir who had pulled out the spear, and then over at his summoned skeleton. They had discussed what to do if Moran came with bad news, but the appearance of Rosalin was a complete shock to them, however his nephew had still acted decisively when the baby's security had been questioned. He took one last glance at the murdered Rosalin, before he stood up also. The guards hadn't reacted yet, the entire thing had happened in barely 2-3 seconds.
Lonkar looked at Barandir with spirited eyes, no matter what, they'd live! Just as he thought this he heard a loud shout from the hallway. The two men both looked towards the door.
"THE MAN IS AN IMPOSTER!" the yell was loud and violent, and somewhat familiar "CAN'T YOU IMBECILES SEE THAT I'M MORAN!" Barandir and Lonkar looked back at each other in confusion, if that was Moran, then who had they just killed? They heard some shuffling by the door, and then the door began opening. They both steadied themselves, come what may.
. . . . .
Moran was furiously standing in front of the two door guards, but he quickly convinced them that he was the genuine deal. "My personal guard and I will take care of the imposter, you two idiots can go report to your superior, you'll be lucky if you're not send to the stockade!" his anger was spat fiercely at the two.
His personal guard opened the door, her pale brown hair draping her Salk army uniform, her movements were steady and professional.
. . . . .
Lonkar was just about to order the skeleton to attack when he saw the face of the person who opened the door. It was Mezcah! Although her skin was pale and her hair was hanging loose, not to mention the army uniform she was wearing.
Barandir also visible calmed down at the sight. She simply winked and smiled at the two, as Moran followed right behind her, he simply closed the door behind him, not so much as bothering with glancing at the corpses twice.
Moran looked at the two with a creepy smile "Alright, it seems that you made our lives a little easier!" he pointed at the skeleton "Make that thing disappear or something, and follow us, it's about time we left this forsaken country" he spoke slightly irritated.
For Barandir, the idea of deception and infiltration wasn't anything new, so he quickly picked up on the fact that the faster they moved, the further they could get before they were discovered. He held the baby tighter as he transformed the spear back into a cane, whereas he gave the stunned Lonkar a hard slap on the back. The man quickly gathered his wit, and made the skeleton walk into his shadow, disappearing as it entered.
It didn't take long before they were leaving the mansion, on the way out 'Moran' told the guards that the imposters had been trying to break the two free, and they were now being moved to a more secure location.
. . . . .
As the chief guard of the mansion; entered the room of the crime, he instantly saw the gruesome sight of the cleaved brigadier general. His men came in after him, and they did a sweep of the room, however no matter how hard they looked, they couldn't find the 'fake' advisor. He felt a trickle of sweat as he quickly wrote a note which he send with post-haste to the information department. This was sure to blow up into something huge, hopefully he wouldn't have to bear the blame.
. . . . .
The night was thick with chaos, as thunder rolled, and lightning clapped, the wind blew strong, slamming fat drops of rain aggressively into the canvas of a small wooden wagon, that was being pulled by two large prairie buffaloes. The ride was wild and reckless, using small nature paths rather than the road. The coachman was a grey haired young woman, a thick braid was hanging out of her hooded oil coat as she controlled the powerful beasts with skilled ease. Inside the wagon sat Gabbro, Fremont, Mezcah, Lonkar, Sam and Barandir, who in his grasp held the baby.
After they had left the manor they had moved fast. It hadn't taken long for them to leave the town, and get to where their escape transportation was located.
A week a ago Sam had procured the wagon and beasts using his abilities as a merchant, Fremont had sneaked into the barracks and stolen uniforms, and weather-worthy clothes and supplies. Avicia had found a good hiding spot for the wagon out of town, and Mezcah had used her magic to confuse the local patrols, allowing them to stock it and keep it out of sight temporarily.
Everyone was quiet, it was as if anyone spoke, they would jinx the escape, and so they sat in a morose solitude, as the wagon clamoured through forest and hill, meadow and swamp.
. . . . .
Far above the unassuming wagon, was a large wooden eagle, its feathers made of birch-like bark, its eyes gleaming with mana, and sitting atop this creature was Rosalin, her pale green hair whipping eagerly in the wind. The rain drenching her clothes and body, yet she seemed to be one with nature as she flew high above the ground. She had been quite proud of her acting previously! She chuckled at the notion; that someone who moved so slowly would actually be able to catch her off-guard, what a ridiculous thought!
Perhaps because of her boredom, but when she had seen the fake Moran enter from downstairs in her mind, she had instantly seen through the Azoth dwarf's disguise, and she hadn't ever met an Azoth dwarf, so she had abandoned her current mission and decided to see if anything interesting would come her way if she followed the dwarf instead, she was hardly loyal to the Salk army.
She couldn't help but sigh somewhat ruefully at the thought of the time she had wasted in Salk. Originally she had been in a different country entirely infiltrating a noble family. It was then, at a party, that a Salk royalty had mentioned their plans to begin raiding southern Taoru'un again. She had quickly introduced herself, under one of her many fake names, Rosalin. Then she had travelled with the man to Salk, and begun pulling the strings there, orchestrating the raids into an annexation of territory, the fact that the Salk kingdom had been conceited enough to believe that they had the military strength to pull it off! Was still somewhat of a surprise to her, they wouldn't have lasted a year, at best a couple of months.
She sighed as she looked up into the sky, the rain splashing against her indigo skin, it was cold and refreshing, she couldn't help but flash a beautiful smile at the rumbling night sky.