Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hsexauer@vax.cns.muskingum.edu (Rapunzel) Subject: [Legacy] First warnings Message-ID: <1994Feb1.171814.1@vax.cns.muskingum.edu> Date: Tue, 1 Feb 1994 22:18:14 GMT The next morning all rose early to say farewell to their guest. Sumner left with Aleric to ask his sister for her son's aid. She readily agreed and sent for him. He turned out to be a stocky fellow around Aleric's age with the burly shoulders of a farmer. He wore a sleeveless jerkin that left his heavily muscled arms bare to the short leather gloves that protected his hands. His black hair was cut short for convenience and the curls held out of his eyes by a twisted leather band. His uncle introduced the young man as Ruel. Ruel cocked his head to look up at the tall Lyorn and said, "So you need guided to the next town, eh? Just give me a few minutes to collect my weapons and gear and we can be on our way." So saying, he disappeared into the house again. True to his word, a few minutes later he came around from behind the house leading a sorrel. A pack of travel equipment was strapped to the saddle and a heavy axe hung from the pommel. Ruel's mother added to the provisions Corin had thoughtfully sent with Aleric, and cautioned her son to be careful. Aleric bade farewell to the valemen and both young men mounted and rode out, followed by a group of children. Ruel was the first to break the silence once the boundaries of the village were safely behind them. "You say you're travelling south, eh? Are you involved in some business venture?" he asked amiably. "Sort of," Aleric replied carefully. He didn't really see the necessity of burdening his companion with the truth. "I don't mean to pry, but you don't really look like the type of man involved in trade," Ruel pointed out. "Particularly not with a sword like yon," he gestured with his thumb, "strapped on your back." He looked critically at Aleric, making his own private assessments. Aleric smiled wryly. "I suppose I don't. No, I'm not a merchant. I leave that to the rest of my family. I was never much for staying tamely in one place." His companion laughed shortly. "Well said. Nor I. I come this route frequently on business with towns in the freelands. I've had a few encounters with the local terrors, so I know more or less what to expect." "I'd appreciate any advice you have to offer in that respect," Aleric said. "I haven't yet seen them, but I've heard about the creatures." He nodded his dark head thoughtfully. "Well, for the watchers the best thing to do is to cripple a wind or two first. Then you don't have to worry about it zipping off to let the dark ones know you're there. Ordinarily the dark ones don't seem to care, they may just send some monster out to deal with any one who is too irritating. People almost never see the dark ones. If they do, they aren't very interested in talking about it afterward." "What do they look like?" Aleric questioned. "Who, the dark ones?" Ruel asked. "I don't know. I've never seen one." He lapsed into silence studying the landscape with dark eyes. His angular face was set into hard lines. "What happened that makes you so angry?" the Lyorn asked quietly. Ruel didn't answer immediately. When he did his voice was a low, dangerous snarl. "They killed my father." Aleric sucked in his breath softly and remained silent. Ruel elaborated a little more, but only by remarking, "It left my mother alone with my brothers and I to take charge of the farm. My older brothers were still fairly young then. It was a difficult time." The two rode in silence for a while, following a faint track through the edge of the plain. At intervals, there were sparse copses of trees that broke the tedious scenery. They travelled slightly more north than west, aiming first for the edge of the freelands. Soon they entered the forest again where the trees closed in around them, hiding the mountains. When the woods thickened and the underbrush grew denser, Ruel began pointing out places where the Shekiren's minions had been in the past. He started teaching Aleric the signs that indicated their passage such as talon marks on the branches or claw scrapes on the sides of trunks. The time since the creature had left could also be determined by the state of the scores. Ones covered by a blackened mold were the oldest they saw, but Ruel mentioned that even older ones were notable because they tree's bark would start to rot, giving the tree the diseased look Aleric had noticed before entering the lowlands. That night after they had camped, Ruel also showed Aleric how to cover the embers of their fire so they could be quickly re-lit in case they were attacked. The young Lyorn found himself liking the stocky Ruel more and more as time passed. That night there were no incidents and the two were on their way again by dawn. They talked idly to pass the time as they rode. Aleric told the other of his family and his career for the past several years while Ruel reciprocated by telling of his life in the Vale and his adventures while travelling in it. That was actually rather unusual, as very few people travelled far from the relative safety of their homes. But Ruel confessed to being dissatisfied with his lot, and always travelling to find a better situation. By the time night fell that evening the two men were comparing notes like old comrades. They had retired for the night with one sleeping while the other kept watch. In the darkest hour of the night, Aleric slept restlessly, hearing something on the edge of consciousness. Two minutes later, Ruel woke him quietly with a hand on his shoulder. He held a finger to his lips to indicate slience, then pointed to his ear, telling Aleric to listen carefully. While Aleric crouched straining his ears to hear what the valeman did, the other scanned both the sky and the trees around him. The only sound that broke the stillness was a soft, sibilant whispering noise. Suddenly Ruel clapped one hand on Aleric's forearm and pointed above where for a fleeting instant a large black blot passed over the space between the trees. The whispering noise faded slightly after it passed. Ruel quietly picked up his axe and held it ready for action. Aleric reached for Xel'ha's hilt, but again the amulet grew warm below his shirt. Glancing down, he could faintly see through the fabric a green glow. The lodestone. It was telling him of the danger nearby. Aleric thought sourly. Both kept their eyes fixed skyward searching for the watcher. The whispering sound of its wings continued, letting them know the danger was still there. But the sound wasn't enough to let them pinpoint the watcher's location. For that reason, neither of them knew the watcher was winging in behind them until Ruel cried out in pain. The watcher buzzed up to tree level before them and hovered. At last, Aleric could faintly make out its shape. Its leathery wings were wide, beating the air strongly to stay aloft. The flattened face had an evil grin showing numerous needle-like teeth and the eyes glinted redly in the darkness. The light flared from the newly lit fire Ruel had uncovered. Aleric could see the long talons of the front paws dripped with Ruel's blood. The hind legs shaped mostly for crouching on branches dangled in the air, claws flexing idly. Then Aleric could spare no time either to glance at his companion or study the creature because it was swooping again. Despite the sudden flare of heat from the amulet, Aleric snatched Xel'ha from its scabbard just intime to fend off the watcher's attack. Its talons rasped against the metal of the blade and a quick snag told Aleric he had severed one. On the creature's next plunge it was shrieking in a high pitched shrill, all four paws extended to tear into their flesh with its claws. Ruel shouted something and swung his axe in a deadly arc that connected at the peak of the swing. One wing of the watcher sheered off leaving its owner to tumble to the ground where Aleric speared it. A brown ichor spurted forth staining his bright blade. To Aleric's surprise, the amber nimbus ignited and the ichor blackened, steaming as it burned away. The watcher shrilled pitifully as it too was consumed in the fire from the sword's point of entry. When there was little left but a pile of ashes, the nimbus around Xel'ha faded, leaving it clean of ichor and gleaming dully in the firelight. The young Lyorn stared at the pile and sword until he heard Ruel groan behind him. Aleric turned to help. The watcher had swiped Ruel's cheek with its razor talons as it swept past. Blood dripped freely from the four parallel gouges on his left cheek. The uppermost, narrowly missing the eye, was deepest as bone could be seen at the point of entry on the temple. The gouges raked down the cheek to the jawline cutting across the corner of Ruel's mouth. The burly young man was kneeling, tearing a strip from his blanket to staunch the blood. Aleric quickly sheathed Xel'ha and delved into his pack for his small medical kit. Once Aleric had patched the wound, Ruel sat back to study him. He held his hand to the bandage pressing lightly when he spoke, "I assume you intend to tell me what just happened." The gimlet stare he pinned the Lyorn with emphasized the statement and encouraged response. The blonde warrior poked at the fire avoiding the stare. He took time to repack his kit before answering. "To be truthful, I don't know. But I have an idea why." "Pray, tell me your theory. And I think you'd also best tell me the real reason you want to go to Highspire." "How did you...?" "Your interest in the place was a little too intense to be just a passing curiosity," replied the other. Aleric considered the situation, debating whether he should confess or not. An idea began to form in the back of Aleric's mind. For that reason, he decided to tell Ruel everything, beginning with his original quest with his friends from Generica. He told him how he met Elanon and Kyar in the Dragon's Inn and became a member of that company, and how they had departed across the sea to reach the Quar'tima, Elanon's homeland. Aleric included the subsequent storm and battle with the wraiths, and the group of demons who attacked their party shortly after arriving on the island. He also mentioned the stalker that almost killed Kyar after infiltrating their group. Then he told Ruel everything that Tevore told him after abducting him and finishing with the events that led up to meeting Ruel. When he had completed the tale, the young warrior waited for a reaction before broaching his idea. Ruel's face had an incredulous expression. He remained quiet, digesting the tale, for almost five minutes. Then he spoke, "So you are the last of the Lyorns?" "Not exactly. I'm the last of the old bloodline." "Same thing isn't it?" "No, that just means I inherit all the tribe's... well, power. But I am not the last one because there is another who is supposed to represent all the tribe will be in the future." "Right." Ruel pondered a little longer. "So you, Nilsangerhir, are here to drive out the Shekiren and restore the land to the Lyorns. Once they come back from wherever they are of course." "More or less." "And to do that you need this other sword that looks like yours and is in Highspire?" Aleric nodded. "So how were you planning on accomplishing all this and then getting back to your friends?" Ruel cocked his dark head and looked at Aleric critically again. This was the delicate part. Aleric decided it was a good time to mention his idea. "Well, I hadn't really decided what I'd do once I got there. But," he paused for effect, "I thought that I might need some help in the process." He finished the sentence on an upward note and left it hanging in the air between them. Now if he was right... "I was kind of hoping you'd ask," Ruel replied with a half smile (which immediately vanished after the wound reasserted itself.) "I have a bone or two to pick with these Shekiren." He held out his hand to Aleric, who gripped it in his own, sealing the bargain. And from a tree high above a pair of red eyes watched the scene. They fixed on the golden haired youth with a snarl of hatred. Great leathery wings lifted the black body and sent it soaring quickly southward... In the uppermost tower of what once had been a graceful castle before the years wore it down, a cowled figure stood by a large window facing north. The figure was quite tall and had the bearing of an athlete. The midnight blue robe it wore fell to the floor in concealing folds, and the deep hood hid the face in shadow. it thought. The figure continued to brood. A winged creature approached the battlements and sought the tower window. It crouched on the ledge and furled it wings. The figure in blue touched one finger lightly to the creature's forehead and assimilated the information. "So, Nilsangehir has come at last, has he?" the figure mused in a low, hoarse voice. "First he must get to us before he can destroy us. He will not find that easy." The cold harsh laughter filled the empty room as the figure swept out. -- Heather Sexauer Muskingum College hsexauer@muskingum.edu "We'll never survive....." "Nonsense. You're only saying that because no one ever has." -- Princess Bride