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Aurennis barely got his shield up in time to block his foe’s blade. The heavy blow nearly sent Aurennis to a knee, but he fought off the strike and countered with a slash of his own. His foe deftly sidestepped the attack and made another quick cut at Aurennis’ torso, trying to sneak around his shield. Aurennis allowed his momentum to carry him forward away from his opponent’s blade, dodging a fatal blow. He spun to face his opponent once more, only to find another overhead slash already coming his way. Aurennis tried to raise his sword to deflect the strike, but it was too late. His opponent’s blade sliced just past the tip of Aurennis’ sword, colliding with his shoulder with a loud crunch. The wooden sword snapped in half on his armor, but there was still enough force behind it to send him to his knees. Defeated, he tossed aside his shield and sword.
“You have yet hit me today” his foe taunted, extending a hand to help Aurennis to his feet.
“I doubt I will get another chance today.” Aurennis responded, gingerly rubbing his shoulder, “That was quite a hit.”
“I am sure you would have blocked it a few years ago. Your age is starting to show” said his opponent, bending over to pick up the shards of his broken sword.
Aurennis laughed at his bluntness. Sulgrum had never been one to mince words. He was right, too. No matter how many times the two of them sparred, he was never going to regain the strength and speed he once had. Years of physical training had kept his body in peak condition, but age was a relentless foe. Sulgrum had been his sparring partner for nearly a decade, and it had not been that long ago that Aurennis would win his fair share of their fights. Nowadays he was lucky to get a glancing hit in before Sulgrum delivered the death blow. What is a guardian that cannot fight, he wondered, knowing full well the answer to that question.
The midday sun beat down on them as they gathered their gear and began to make their way towards the feast hall. Aurennis mulled the thought of having some wine to dull the pain in his shoulder. He was going to need a cask all to himself if Sulgrum continued to batter him in their daily sparring matches. They had just reached the entrance to the feast hall when a messenger approached them. Aurennis could tell from the crest on his armor that he was a member of the Slayer’s Guild.
“Aurennis, your presence is requested at the Slayer’s Guild Hall” said the messenger, handing him a sealed scroll. Aurennis drew his dagger and cut open the seal. He squinted at the messy handwriting of the Slayer’s Guild commander, but the message was clear enough. Only two words were written on the scroll: “Come swiftly”. Aurennis pocketed the scroll.
“Ready a horse for me. I must depart with haste” said Aurennis, turning away from the feast hall and towards the barracks.
“Trouble with the Guild?” asked Sulgrum.
“We shall see. We will have to postpone our sparring for now. I promise I shall return in proper form” responded Aurennis, patting his friend on the shoulder. Sulgrum chuckled at the last comment.
Aurennis deposited his sparring gear at the barracks before heading to his quarters to retrieve his travel gear. By the time he arrived at the stables, the messenger was already mounted and holding the reigns to Aurennis’ horse. The pair set off at a brisk trot towards the portal. Before long they were racing along the nether lines, making quick work of the journey to Voltau. As they emerged from the portal at the Guild Hall, they found a contingent of slayers waiting for them, the guild commander at their head. Aurennis dismounted and handed the reins to the messenger, following the men into the depths of the Guild Hall. Aurennis eventually found himself facing a heavy wooden door.
“Wait here” the commander said, ordering his men to stay outside. Aurennis gave him a look of concern, which the commander matched with a solemn gaze.
The commander opened the door to reveal a sparsely furnished room. A man sat in the corner on a small wooden chair, sharpening a gleaming longsword. As the man stood, Aurennis was able to see the crest emblazoned on the man’s armor. Aurennis froze. The crest was unmistakable: a phoenix behind a flaming sword. Every Casadian knew that crest, though it had not been seen for over a century. Aurennis swallowed nervously, knowing full well what this meant. The Altheri had returned.
Part 2 begins here:
The man laid his sword carefully against the wall and pocketed his whetstone before gesturing to another wooden chair. Aurennis took a deep breath before settling down into the chair. Aurennis locked eyes with the man, the foreboding silence growing as he waited for the man to speak.
“You are the Guardian?” the man asked, crossing his arms.
“Yes. I am Aurennis, Guardian of Casadia.” Aurennis answered.
“My name is Torik,” said the man, “You look concerned. Everyone who has seen me looks concerned.”
The man’s accent was strange and foreign, but Aurennis understood him well enough.
“It has been a long time since the Altheri have been seen in Casadia” Aurennis responded, “Most expected they would never be seen again.”
“Your men told me as much. But they would tell me little else. Why have the Altheri not come to your lands for recruits?” Torik asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“We were hoping you could answer that question for us,” said the commander, inserting himself into the conversation, “seeing as you are an Altheri.”
“I am afraid I will have few answers for you. I have not been in contact with the rest of the Altheri for some time.” Torik responded, “I was a member of a scouting party sent to find the southern edge of the Horde. We found the Horde, but it chased us south and cut us off from the rest of the Altheri. We managed to evade the Horde well enough, but every time we tried to turn north and find our way back to Altheri, the Horde blocked our path. The Horde whittled our number until only I remained. I saw that it was fruitless to try to make it through the Horde, so I tried to draw them south and west.”
“You never made your way back?” the commander asked.
“No,” Torik said, shaking his head, “after a few months the Horde ceased to chase me. I tried to go north a few times, but the Horde was impassable. So I went east, as far east as I could go, hoping to get beyond the edge of the Horde. I met the ocean before the edge of the Horde. At that point I knew that I would never return to the Altheri.”
“How did you come to us?” Aurennis asked.
“I wanted to build a boat to sail around the Horde, but it quickly became apparent that I was no shipwright. I searched the coast for civilization, but it was devoid of life. The isolation drove me near to madness. I considered a suicidal attack on the Horde, but I could not go through with it. So I did the only thing I could do and followed the coast south. My progress was slow; I had long since run out of supplies and spent much of my time foraging. I know not how far I traveled, or for how long. All sense of time was lost to me. Eventually my sword broke, and I forced myself to take refuge in a cave while I gathered the materials to forge another. I reforged my armor as well. I felt that if I lost my sword and armor, I would lose all connection to who I was, to what I was. I must have spent months in that cave. Years perhaps. By the end of it I almost did not wish to leave. But I knew that I must press on. So I did. And one day I saw a village on the horizon. They were the first people I had seen in a long, long time.”
“That is where my men found him,” said the commander, “Well, he found them. He heard them speaking Casadian in the tavern and came to investigate.”
“I never thought I would hear it again.” Torik said, allowing himself a small smile.
“They brought him here quickly and quietly,” the commander interjected, “They know that this means.”
“You said the Altheri have not been seen in over a century. How long has it been exactly?” Torik asked, his face now the one showing concern.
“They have not been seen since Antheron went west with an army to reinforce them nearly two hundred years ago. He took the few Altheri in Casadia with him.” Aurennis answered.
“I heard nothing of an army from the east. Nor does this man’s name sound familiar. And two hundred years ago would not be far off from the Landing. I do not think Casadia was so strong then” Torik responded, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Two hundred years ago it was still more than two hundred years after the Landing.” said Aurennis, now equally puzzled, “What year was it when you were brought to the Altheri?”
“I was born in the 172nd year after the Landing. I was brought to the Altheri when I was fourteen.” Torik answered. Aurennis and the commander shared a look of disbelief.
“It is currently the 408th year after the Landing,” said Aurennis, “Surely you cannot be that old. You do not look more than thirty. How can this be?”
Torik was shaking his head, and Aurennis could tell that he was searching for an answer.
“The Altheri are closer to the Fire than any other Casadian. Meditation. Ritual immolation. There was not a moment when we could not feel the Fire in our veins. Some said that pledging one’s life to the Altheri was to pledge one’s life to the Fire itself. They said that the Fire would sustain any man who swore himself to it. I knew that the Fire kept us going and perhaps slowed aging, but…” Torik paused, “to live this long… I must have been out there for nearly two centuries until I found my way here.”
Aurennis looked into Torik’s eyes and saw no signs of deception. Perhaps the madness induced by isolation had ruined his memory, or perhaps he was really as old as he said. Aurennis had read in old texts the rumors of the mystical powers of the Altheri. Aurennis stood and put his hand on Torik’s shoulder.
“I would think you will need some time to yourself. We can talk more later.” Aurennis patted him on the shoulder, “I will have some historical texts sent down for you. Perhaps they will help explain what has come to pass during your isolation. “
Aurennis waited a moment for a response, but it was clear that Torik was already lost in his own thoughts. Aurennis nodded to the commander and the two of them departed.
“I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting. Kolken, I plan to send word to the Council of Elders. I will call for a gathering within the fortnight. I expect you will keep things quiet here.” said Antheron, turning to the commander.
“Aurennis, if word gets out that the Altheri are still around, even if it is just one, it could be a grave problem. The traditionalists will demand that we return to the old ways immediately, without exception.” Kolken responded, the concern evident in his voice.
“We cannot hide this from our people forever. Sooner or later the word will get out. Casadia has prospered without the old ways, this is true, but it is the duty of Casadia to support and maintain the Altheri. If we must go back to the old ways, then we will.”
“The Altheri have been gone for near two hundred years, but the Horde has not yet come to these lands. Perhaps the Altheri have won?” Kolken asked.
“Or perhaps they are just barely holding the Horde at bay? Or perhaps the Horde moves slowly?” Aurennis responded, “We do not know the answers to these questions. What we do know is that there is an Altheri here now. An Altheri who has seen the Horde. An Altheri who has the knowledge to help us rebuild the Altheri here. That is undeniably our duty.”
“I am just… worried that things will go badly. Casadia has become much more cosmopolitan in recent years. We have relaxed so many laws and rules… how can we go back?”
“Casadia has prospered under the old ways before. Things will be different, yes, but Casadia is nothing if not durable. The return of breeding laws and the kuraki, the harvesters, these two things will not destroy the wealth and prosperity of our people. The Altheri will give our people a renewed sense of purpose… of duty. This is not something to be feared.” Aurennis answered, “Trust in Torik. Trust in me. I will not let our people go astray.”
“You are my Guardian. You will always have my trust.” said Kolken, saluting Aurennis. Aurennis smiled and saluted in return.
“I believe I have some letters to write.” said Aurennis, “Take care, Kolken.”
Aurennis left the commander behind and continued his climb out of the depths of the guild hall. He paused for a moment on the stairs as his mind was overrun by a thousand different thoughts. Thoughts of the Altheri, of the future, of everything he had helped build. He took a deep breath and continued to climb the stairs with renewed vigor. A new era in Casadia’s history was about to begin. Best not to keep it waiting.
Part 3 begins here
Vitredes could hear the men clamoring in the yard long before he saw them. He had been trying to get some sleep after returning from a night run to Imara, but apparently something was worthy of waking him from his slumber. As he walked through the tunnel to the yard, the cheers became almost deafening. Much to his surprise and chagrin, there were more than one hundred men crowded together in the yard. They were all gathered in a circle around something, and above the roar of the crowd he could faintly hear the clash of steel on steel. Vitredes pushed his way through the crowd to get a glimpse of the action.
Torik stood in the circle with another man, both with swords drawn. The man was trying to press Torik back against the edge of the circle with a flurry of blows, but Torik deftly blocked each attack. Vitredes could see that the attacker was tiring. He will get sloppy, Vitredes thought to himself. Sure enough the attacker overstepped on one of his slashes. Torik stepped into his opponent and drove him back with his shoulder. The attacker staggered backwards, trying to regain his balance. Dead, Vitredes thought as the tip of Torik’s sword founds itself resting against the man’s chest. Torik gave the blade the slightest of thrusts and the man toppled. Vitredes yawned as the crowd roared once more.
“Not entertaining enough for you?” said Kolken, emerging from the crowd to give Vitredes a pat on the back.
“I have seen good fights before. That was not one of them.” Vitredes retorted, “I do not understand why they are cheering so much for this.”
“That man he just beat? The fifteenth in a row he has beaten this morning. Without a rest, no less. I would say that is worthy of a few cheers.” said Kolken in response, “I was the eighth, if that means anything.”
“And here I was thinking you were a good fighter,” Vitredes chuckled, “Besides, were we not supposed to keep things quiet here? I do not think this quite fits that definition.”
“I got word from the Council late last night. They figure that the best way to reintroduce the Altheri is to make the one we have a hero in the eyes of the people. If everyone looks up to the Altheri as renowned warriors, the hope is that they will bear the burden of stricter laws to rebuild them.”
“You are trying to get the people to idolize him by having him win a bunch of fights? Clever.” Vitredes remarked, “He can certainly beat up on these Slayers.”
“You should give him a go. You seem confident enough.” Kolken taunted, slapping Vitredes on the back.
“As much as I would love to end a streak like this, I did just get back from a night run to Imara. I would be a bit ---“ Vitredes was interrupted as Kolken pushed him into the middle of the circle.
“Your next challenger!” Kolken announced as the crowd roared. Kolken smiled as Vitredes gave him a look of resent. Kolken knew full well that Vitredes had his own reputation as a fighter to uphold, and Kolken was one of many victims during Vitredes’ rise.
Vitredes grabbed the blunt sword from the previous opponent and gave it a few practice swings. A bit shorter than I am used to, but it will have to do , he thought, taking a moment to stretch his sword arm. He could see Torik staring him down, waiting to make him his next victim. Vitredes took one last moment to collect himself before turning to face the Altheri. They nodded at one another, and the fight began.
Vitredes has seen how resolute Torik was on the defense, so he decided to let his opponent make the first move. Torik realized what Vitredes was doing and began to try to circle around him. Vitredes sent a few timid slashes his opponent’s way, just enough to keep him from getting to close. Just as Vitredes thought he might have to strike first, Torik was upon him. The blows rained down hard and quick, seeming to come from everywhere all at once. Vitredes was no novice and deflected them with relative ease, but he could feel the force of each blow reverberate through his arm. He keeps hitting me like that and my arm is going to fall off, he thought as he pivoted away from his opponent’s attack. He knew he had to go on the offensive or his opponent would quickly wear him down.
Vitredes lunged towards Torik, aiming slashes and jabs at his opponent’s torso. Vitredes was quick, but Torik was faster still. Each attack was deflected perfectly, never coming close to making contact. Quick and strong, this will be fun, Vitredes mused, pulling back for a moment to catch his breath. He could hear the crowd cheering wildly as the two fighters began to circle on another. Vitredes launched another set of attacks, but again to no avail. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of Kolken in the background, a smug smile on his face.
Torik was the one to attack this time, hammering his blade into Vitredes’. Vitredes managed to block them, but he was slowly being forced towards the edge of the circle. Each blow brought him closer to the edge, and the crowd did not seem to feel the need to move. Vitredes knew that being forced back against the crowd would spell certain defeat. He waited for Torik to recoil from a strike before diving back towards the middle of the circle.
Vitredes rose quickly to his feet, only to find Torik already hurtling towards, sword heading point first towards his chest. Vitredes swung his sword wildly to force his opponent’s blade off target, but Torik still collide with him shoulder first. Vitredes flew off his feet onto his back, the air quickly leaving his lungs as he hit the ground. At some point during his fall his sword had fallen out of his grasp. He felt for it with his right hand, while reaching for the knife he kept at his side. Which of course is not there because I just got up to see what this nonsense was all about he thought, feeling the cold steel of Torik’s blade press against his throat. Vitredes let out a gasping laugh and extended his hand upward towards his opponent. Torik grasped his arm and pulled the beleaguered Vitredes to his feet. Vitredes could hear the cheers from the crowd as they reveled in the defeat of the Slayer’s Guild’s proudest warrior at the hands of the Altheri. They are really going to love the Altheri now, Vitredes thought to himself, allowing himself a small chuckle in between gasps for air. Many of these men had been unwilling victims to Vitredes’ own mastery of the sword. Vitredes worked his way back into the crowd, finding himself again by Kolken’s side.
“Sixteen” Kolken exclaimed smugly, leaning over to make sure Vitredes heard him. Sixteen indeed, Vitredes thought, deciding that sleep was less important than watching the birth of a legend.
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Guardian of Casadia
Master of the Slayers Guild
Minister of Hermertian History
Last edited by Arcel on July 28th, 2015, 3:47 am, edited 2 times in total.
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