From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Jan 27 09:26:19 1994 Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!decwrl!nic.hookup.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!howland.reston.ans.net!news.ans.net!malgudi.oar.net!sun!vax.cns.muskingum.edu!hsexauer From: hsexauer@vax.cns.muskingum.edu (Rapunzel) Subject: [Legacy] A mistaken identity Message-ID: <1994Jan25.113647.1@vax.cns.muskingum.edu> Lines: 279 Sender: root@sun.cns.muskingum.edu (Operator) Organization: Muskingum College Date: Tue, 25 Jan 1994 16:36:47 GMT In another part of the world, Aleric's friends call an end to a day's travel... "Okay my friends, usual routine," Elanon said swinging down from his saddle. "Oh, and Kyar? Your turn to cook." "Again?" Kyar complained good naturedly. "What are you doing Elanon? Trying to kill us? You know how his meals always turn out!" Alarond protested. He grinned at Kyar, who stuck out his tongue in response. The usual banter filled the air while the company set up their evening camp. While the others were occupied in their self-appointed tasks, "Aleric" dug a firepit and lined it with stones. Kyar dropped to his knees next to him with a sack of provisions in his hand. "Say old friend, how about giving me a hand?" he cajoled once "Aleric" had the fire started. "You don't really need one," the other replied with a half smile. "Although since I remember what happened last time you had a hand in food preparation I will assist." Kyar held the sack open for "Aleric" to reach in and take a handful of carrots. The Lyorn pulled a dagger from his belt and began slicing the vegatables with his left hand. His friend noticed the action and tried to decide what seemed wrong with it. Kyar asked himself. Just as he was about to say something, his thoughts turned back to his chore. The prod was so subtle the Phadran never noticed it, or the way "Aleric's" green eyes flickered briefly to settle on his face. Coltren-Aleric thought. Aleric lay abed that night thinking about the evening's events. Old Tevore had told him further tales of his actions after the Lyorn had dispersed. Unable to be very far from Xel'eman physically because of the bond, he had never left the continent again. Instead he used his link to Xel'eman to keep track of the Shekiren and their leader, Euskaya. After the Lyorn had been defeated, the Shekiren had moved against the other peoples of the Vale of Janariak. Some few had fended off their advances, but most fell before them leaving the region entirely under Shekiren control. Not satisfied with her achievements, Euskaya had retreated after a hundred years or so to pursue the source of her power in depth. She gained more control and power as she increased her knowledge, so like an addict to a drug, she experimented with more and more dangerous forces. In the midst of these experiments, she and her followers did not notice the change that occurred, corrupted by the forces that sustained them. Euskaya ruled the region she conquered with an iron grip. The peoples became her slaves, helpless to her power. No one dared to approach the region because everything in it had become dangerous. The earth itself was sick and the landscape twisted and diseased. Once a very beautiful land, it now was ugly and dark. What few living things there were appeared to struggle for their very survival. Even the animals had fled to safer locales. What few crops the people could grow had to be carefully tended and protected. Aleric stared up at the roof of the old cabin above him. He could hear Tevore's snores on the other side of the room. Turning his head he picked out the old man's form hunched on a pallet by the fire. Did he really believe in the old man's story? It sounded incredible, but there was a ring of truth underlying it all. He knew he could always leave now and forget everything, but for two reasons he discarded that notion immediately. First he was sure the old warlock could bring him back any time he felt like it. After all, he'd done it once already. And second, Aleric knew in his heart he could never turn his back on six hundred years of hope dedicated to this one end. All the suffering of a race was resting on his actions. It was a very heavy burden to consider. One hand reached out to touch his sword. The familiar hilt was definitely warm to the touch. He ran his fingertips across it, feeling the pattern etched into the crosspiece and guard. Hesitantly, he touched the blade itself, half afraid it would burst into flame again. It didn't. The warm metal felt smooth to his touch, vibrating slightly as if to remind him what it was. No, he knew he couldn't back down now. Not when he knew at least some part of Tevore's tale was the truth. No one would have know his hidden name unless he chose to reveal it. That was the one thing that decided him initially, now he simply felt a need to rationalize his decision. Aleric commanded himself firmly. He closed his eyes and tried to relax into sleep. Eventually, it worked and the sound of his deep breathing joined the old man's snores. The next morning found Aleric and Tevore hunched over an old map, studying its features. While quite old, the map was still accurate enough to give Aleric a sense of the geography of the nearby regions. Tevore pointed out one spot on the coast several hundred leagues to the east of the mountains. "Just east of this point there is an island where you and your company were when I took you. I don't know where they are now since they left the place, but that will be no hard thing to find out later," he told Aleric. The tall young man eyed the map, trying to judge how far his friends could have travelled by now. "It's going to take a long time to track them down even if I were to join them now," Aleric protested. "How are you going to do it weeks or even months from now? This quest will not be finished in a matter of days." He cast a speculative glance at the wrinkled old man at his side. "Of course not. But I seem to remember telling you I took care of everything," he pointed out. The other nodded encouragement. "I will explain things later. Right now you need to pay attention to what I'm showing you." Tevore tapped the old map to draw Aleric's attention again. "Now, this is where we are now-- in the eastern edge of this large valley..." The map was faded and yellowed with age, showing tiny villages that by now would be sprawling towns. There was a large amount of blank, unmapped space to the west of the barrier range, as if the map makers had reached a certain point and lost interest. Toward the south end of the barrier range, a hook like protrusion range curved northeasterly, forming the bowl of the valley. It was in this area that Tevore pointed out a particular regoin in the southeast. His own cabin was situated high in the surrounding mountains which gave name to the Vale of Janariak. Further south, the Janariah rejoined the barrier range and continued on southward. Although several peoples occupied the Vale, the largest population had been the Lyorns who lived mainly in the deepest part. Now, those other peoples were waging their own struggle against the Shekiren. Those whose lands marched with the Lyorn's had succumbed to the new evil emanating from the depths. Those further west and north were still resisting, but weakening as the centuries passed. The free peoples had lost almost all contact with those in the outside world, as one of the two passes leading through the mountains was in the fallen Lyorn territory. While not impassable, Ironwood Pass led from lands south of the Janariak into the heart of the Shekiren's domain. So travellers forsook that in favor of safer regions. For an unknown reason, the second pass high in the north west corner of the Vale was rarely travelled. As far as the warlock could tell, Cedarcliff was entirely free, yet there had been no coming or going through it in recent decades. The one important feature in the Vale was the small river that cut across the southern borders. Fed by a spring high in the barrier range, it followed the contours of the Vale until it ran into the south point of the Janariak and sank under the range to continue its journey to the sea through the underground cavern system. "About twenty or so leagues west of Ironwood where the river submerges again is where the Shekiren's keep is. It used to be an old Lyorn fortress. But since the tribe never had much use for castles or the like, being mainly nomadic, it was rarely used. So naturally Euskaya found it a convenient place to conduct her nerfarious processes. After that it became their domain." "There are all kinds of guardians of the keep, most of which are creatures called from the nether regions. Euskaya and her followers may be few, but they can draw on the population of demons and spirits who aid them. Be very careful on the keep's immediate environs," Tevore cautioned. This did not sound like the type of routine foe Aleric was accustomed to facing. But come to think of it, Aleric had been beset by more of these occurances in the past few weeks than in all his years before. Could they be related to the Shekiren in any way? The assassin creature could have easily been trying to kill him as much as Kyar: the two had been sitting next to each other. No, he decided not to pursue that matter. He'd soon start seeing seekers behind every tree if he considered that too deeply. For the moment Aleric had enough to worry about. "If there are so many spies, I may as well go knock on the door and ask for Xel'eman," Aleric commented sourly. "No, there are spies, but they all have their weaknesses," Tevore contradicted. "When Rategin and I slipped in the first time there was a pack of hellhounds guarding the entrance. Now those are essentially demon dogs, so we were able to find a way around them. Once inside it was mostly a matter of avoiding the sentries. Surveilance was a little slack at the time. If you get into trouble, there are some crypts beneath the fortress. You can hide there until they start searching elsewhere." "I can't tell you how secure that makes me feel," Aleric said dryly. He blew out his cheeks and leaned heavily on the table, raking one hand through his hair making the short ends on top stick out in points. "Okay. Assuming I make it into the keep alive-- what am I supposed to do next?" "Well, the main objective is to recover the celestial blade. Once you've done that, we can sit back and wait until Chiyasangehir surfaces." The old warlock shuffled over to a chest in the corner and spent some minutes digging through it. "While Xel'ha is yours to wield, _you_ can't do anything with Xel'eman," he added in a muffled voice, still head and shoulders into the chest. "I figured it wouldn't make much difference which I used," the Lyorn said, confused. "Of course it does. Xel'ha was destined to be yours, but Chiyasangehir needs a weapon against the Shekiren too. So Xel'eman is destined to be his," explained Tevore. With a cry of triumph he surfaced with an amulet clutched in his fist. He shuffled back to the table where his young guest waited. The amulet was an elaborate pendant of copper looped in some intricate design. Set in the midst of the loops was a polished green stone. Its facets caught the sunlight and threw reflections around the room. "What is that?" asked the young warrior. "This, is what will keep you warned of the Shekiren or their infernal minions," he replied proudly. "See this stone? This is a lodestone. It's got lots of uses, but for our purposes, it will let you know when your are near an enemy by its light and heat." Aleric took the amulet and turned it carefully in his fingers. The stone, very smooth under his thumb, reminded him of his own starstone. Aleric paused; perhaps the old warlock would know the origin of the blue stone. He had never been able to discover much about it, and was curious to see if the old man could add anything. He would have to remember to ask Tevore later. For now, Alric slipped the chain over his head and dropped the talisman inside his shirt. The two conversed for several hours more while the day advanced toward mid-afternoon. Sunlight streaming in through a window made patches on the dusty floor. Aleric sat in the path of an errant sunbeam that found its way to the table. Tevore had removed himself earlier to rest, he woke now and remained immobile, studying his guest. He sighed sadly as he watched the young Lyorn whose sunlit hair crowned him with gold emphasizing his youth and strength. He had the look of a pure blooded Lyorn of old with his golden complexion and odd eyes. Tevore could even tell which clan he was descended from, as the young Lyorn had its stamp upon his features. For just a little while Tevore, looking at Aleric, saw the face of his friend Rategin, dead now for six centuries. He remembered how that other Lyorn had looked, intently watching his prey on hunt. Aleric had the same expression as he studied the map before him. Tevore's mind shuddered away from his last memory of Rategin: bloodied and mangled by the Shekiren. The pain of his friend's death was still fresh, knowing it was partly his fault. He hoped he wasn't sending this young man to a similar fate by not waiting until the moment dictated by the prophecy. But by the gods, he couldn't endure the half-life in which he existed any longer! He had Nilsangehir in his grasp and Xel'ha as well, not to set them on the prophecy's path would be foolish. Chiyasangehir would appear in his own time and when he did the bond could be broken. Aleric pushed the map away with a sigh. He rose from the table and reached for the ceiling in a bone popping stretch. Since he didn't wish to disturb his host, he very quietly opened the door and went outside. His mare was still hobbled nearby and happily munching dry grass under a sapling. Aleric wandered over to her and gently stroked the sleek neck. The roan raised her head and pushed her nose at Aleric's chest; her warm breath blew through his shirt. The Lyorn smiled slightly and rubbed the silky ears until the mare, finding no hidden apples or sweets forthcoming, turned her attention back to the grass. Aleric bent and picked up a handful of the long stemmed weeds and began rubbing down the mare, losing himself in the mindless task of caring for his mount. Inside the cabin, Tevore had gone to the window, taking care to remain hidden in the shadows to watch his young guest. Then, taking advantage of the opportunity presented, one wizened hand pushed aside the neck of the robe and grasped a lodestone similar to Aleric's amulet. Using that as a focus, Tevore pushed his thoughts outward, searching for someone... Kyar was riding, as was his habit, near the front of the little column of riders heading south to Quar'tima. Alarond and Peregrine were just ahead of him talking in low voices. Segoi was somewhere behind him riding next to Aleric. Kyar was simply enjoying the ride, not paying much attention, when he heard a voice in his mind. it said in an expectant tone. His brow furrowed in concentration. Where did it come from? He heard another voice reply warningly, On the heels of that remark Kyar heard Segoi's deep voice rumble, "Where are you off to, Aleric?" Kyar turned in his saddle to see Aleric guiding his mount to one side and heard him reply, "I saw something off that wasy," he gestured vaguely, "that I want to check out." "Do you want me to come with you?" Segoi asked. "No, I'll be fine," Aleric insisted. He glanced once at Kyar, and the other suddenly decided he wasn't interested in the little exchange anymore. Once he was out of sight of the group, Coltren stopped his horse and reached in his shirt. His hand emerged with a blue stone in the fingertips. he asked irritably. the voice came with the feeling of a shrug. Tevore asked. the duan replied. Coltren kept his eyes open and alert for any signs of one of the company returning to investigate. Coltren quipped. Then he decided to change the subject. Tevore admitted. He gave Coltren a brief summary of events. Coltren asked. Tevore remarked with some asperity. The duan paused a moment to reflect. Tevore added. Coltren nodded absently. Coltren said as a parting admonition. He replaced the stone and trotted back to the group, fending off questions with suitably nonchalant answers. He resumed his false identity and dropped back to strike up a conversation with Segoi again. -- Heather Sexauer Muskingum College hsexauer@muskingum.edu "If you can't ignore an insult, top it; if you can't top it, laugh it off; if you can't laugh it off, you probably deserve it." -- Russell Lynes