 |
9
(1 votes)
| Rating | Rated by | | | 9 | HavocTheDemon | |
You must login to vote
|
|
|
Stryker looked at his family’s new coat of arms. He ran his fingers thru his jet black hair as he pondered its meaning. It had bin changed from its demur yellow and black, checker pattern motif with flames so that it now also displayed the coiled dragon and blade icons. The Vanderhurst family’s official status to Thannian nobility within the realm had bin accepted. His promotion to general now reflected his long service to the crown of Thann and his loyalty to the prince. He had never thought it was possible that any other family would ever be elevated to this status after the insurrection more than twenty years ago. He stood there a long time as his steel grey eyes looked to a far away time and place. He remembered his father speaking of how a large number of powerful and ambitious families had attempted to plan an overthrow of the queen. There attempt had failed badly and there where rounded up and tried by the royal court of Thann. They where convicted of high treason, sedition, and conspiracy against the crown. The person who carried out the executions of these wannabe nobles fell to Queen Veldavonnas most trusted consort, General Kel.
That was so long ago when he had bin just a young boy, anxious to join the Thannish military. He remembered how so many people had bin angered by the elves of the Bronzwood. How they had invaded and killed so many innocent people. He thought of how he had begged his father for permission to join and how his father had said no. The anger his father must have had when he had finished his education and scholastic enrollment at the Thannish Institute just two years later and then joined the military. His father had always wanted him to pursue a carrier as a high merchant and one that would keep him safe. Stryker had the brains for it, but longed for excitement and adventure. He thought about how exciting it was to be serving as a soldier until his first combat assignment on the elvish border. He had never seen an elf before, let alone a dead one. Somehow a year later he was still alive among the magical flames that covered the battlefield. The explosions of elven arrows of arcane landing all around him and seeing his fellow soldiers shredded into pieces changed him. Watching many of them land all around him like bloody rag dolls that no longer resembled his friends. He swears he can still smell to this day, the acrid smoke of the countless magical bolts of lightning as they crossed back and forth over the night sky of the battlefield. He had made the rank of Lt. at the end of that conflict, as a truce was declared
with no clear victor for human or elf.
Even after returning home, his father and him had never really talked about it. He only remembered how happy he was to see him again and how he could put all the conflict behind him. He started a merchants shop and began to make a small fortune for himself. That was a small reward compared to the look of happiness on his fathers face. So when the call to arms against the elves came to Stryker again just a few short years later, he was sad. His sadness was not for his family or his new merchant shop, but for the elves that would surly die by his hand. By now general Kel had combined his fiefdom to the west, into Thanns realm. The queen of Thann took her court consort as royal partner and the realm once again had a king. This was not a moment too soon as the city-state of SafeHaven had cut off valuable trade routs with the east. SafeHaven was, and had always bin, a puppet of the elves within the Bronzewood. King Kel had surmised that this was a move to force Thann into submission and moved Thanns mighty troops to interdict and keep those valuable trade routes open. Once again, Stryker was among those brave soldiers to face off against the imperial ambitions of the elves.
This newest conflict was much harder than the last and the blood spilled covered every inch of the battlefield. It seemed that SafeHaven had countless battalions of well trained infantry and aerial cavalry mounted on winged horses called pegasi. Stryker was promoted to captain during this second conflict and he never really wanted it. Serving under a conservative general, Captain Stryker was thrust into the lead when a sneak attack by an elite force of elven arcane archers wiped out the general and his command post. He had to lead Thanns own aerial cavalry mounted on red feathered griffons and the realms own Dragon Storm Troopers on a massive counter attack. He could only think that the only thing he could do was to stay alive and make this conflict as short as possible. After six long months, Thann had the upper hand and now controlled one of the most vital towns half way between Thann and SafeHaven. Once again he felt a sigh of relief when an uneasy truce was struck and a margin of peace prevailed over constant war and conflict. His new status as theater commander was suppose to be a great achievement until the news of his father’s death reached him. He quickly reached there family home back in Thann where many of the family had gathered. As it was his fathers wish, if he should he die of old age, he had wanted to stay at rest. Him and some of the family considered breaking with there fathers wishes but reconsidered after learning he had already extended the length of his life unnaturally with powerful magic by several decades. His father was now resting in peace, and he wanted to honor his father’s wishes and the wishes of the other members of his family. The words his father had always said to him…strength and honor.
Suddenly Stryker snaps back to the present as the chime to his apartment door rings softly. The ticking of the magical water clock at his desk told him that his special guest should be here, the Princess Hellyah of the Royal Family of Thann. “I wonder what she wants of a lowly general like me?”
**********
High above the surrounding hills and canyons of the western corridor, Castle Perilous stands guard. Its windswept ramparts and angular peaks are testament to Thanns most western command. Thannian flags and battle standards snap angrily at the fierce winds that constantly assault the fortress. Its entire jagged granite foundation defies gravity, some five hundred feet above a massive volcanic crater, by the power of some untold arcane magic. Far below nested within the jungle filled crater, a large emerald blue lake fills the air with warm mists. A small paradise community serves as a rest & resort location for those returning home from long patrols.
Vigilant guards standing watch on the arial landing sound the alert as a winged rider breaks from a bank of dark, slow moving clouds to the west. A large black griffon with red tipped wing feathers soars down as the black leather clad rider pulls back on its rains. Swiftly the majestic black griffon pulls up at the last possible moment to abruptly land precisely on its mark. Its rear, lion-like legs ripple with taught muscles, sitting back to allow the black caped rider to vault from the saddle. A slender and acrobatic feminine figure lands with cat-like grace as the riders glossy black mount opens its beak. The mount begins squawking loudly in full protest at the armored guards who surround the griffon, as the rider stands to face them. From an adjacent entrance to the arial landing, a tall well built, human officer approaches the rider. His short cropped red hair and thin lined beard match his immaculate uniform. He snaps a crisp salute as he takes careful measure of the advisor to Prince Tobias of the Royal family of Thann.
“Greeting Mistress Minuete. This is an unexpected visit so far into the Western Corridor. Welcome to Castle Perilous.” He absently waves to the guards to stand down. The guards in spectacular full plate armor secure there master crafted repeating crossbows to there shoulder holsters, and sheath there intricate long swords with blinding speed, in well practiced unison.
“Well met Lt. Fox. I see your security is as it should be.” The black leather clad feminine figure turns slowly in her stance. She pulls back the hood to her long black cape that has fanned out around her. Her ebony black skin and pure white hair immediately reveals her dark elven heritage to everyone. Her black leather, form-fitting outfit, hides very little of her more attractive attributes from his view.
“This way mistress” the Lt. snaps his fingers at the guards “I will have your mount cared for. The commander will want to see you if you have anything of interest to report.” They walk casually as Minuete removes her riding gloves while checking her wand holsters at her belt, an old habit of a battle-hardened mage.
“Tell me Lt. Fox, how is it that you have lost three patrols this month?” They both stop as he turns to her in mild surprise. Her pure white, high and tight combat hair cut, bristles with anticipation.
“You will have to admit that the current situation with the Great Kingdoms forces in our preverbal back yard does present some level of difficulty. I know you advise the prince but I advise the commander of Castle Perilous”
“Does the commander of Castle Perilous have any plan to deal with a few thousand disorganized troops that rampage unchecked thru the entire Western Corridor? Prince Tobias is demanding to know how you are handling the clerics of Ghaunadaur that plague this area!” The Lt. turns as he begins walking again to the end of a great hall where two elite guards stand at attention at a pair of large ornate doors. “Commander Able will have some serious explaining to do when I report back to the prince of his lack of action on these matters!”
“I assure you that the new commander will want to speak to you about these very same issues.” He smiles slightly, as the guards to his left and right tense, when he pauses at the doors.”I will arrange for your gear to be taken back to your quarters during your stay. Dinner is served in the officer’s hall just before sunset.” He opens the doors and stands at attention.
With a confident glance at the Lt., she walks quickly into the commander’s office to demand an explanation and stops suddenly. Slack jawed and surprised, she comes to attention as she realizes the Lt. had mentioned the new commander. Minuete fights to regain her composer at the sudden sense of power attempting crush her inner ego.
“I beg your pardon Sir as I….I was unaware….. you had replaced Commander Able. I am…. at your service General Twilight,…. how may I…. help you? She starts to sweat as she can feel the power radiating from the legendary blade at his side. The dark elf general looks up from his desk full of scrolls and rests one firm hand on the pommel of the short blade of power at his weapons belt. It’s almost as if he is restraining the sword from leaping out at her and striking her down at any moment.
“Please!...Please! Come in Advisor Minuete. How rude of me not to greet you properly. I assure you that when I advise King Kel of Thann, that he will explain his plans to his son in good time.” The black star filled blade at his belt actually starts making a low rumbling sound. Minuete can’t believe the legendary sword is actually growling at her. By all the gods that walk Thann, that must be the legendary Dragon’s Fang!
**********
Torg absentmindedly scrapes his wicked black adamantine horns against the cavern wall. The sparks entertain him as he thinks deeply on his new situation. His massive hairless humanoid build, taut with extremely dense muscles, rests idle against the stone of the chamber. His large bull-like head, with dull black colored fur, rests under a great helm inset with many magical gemstones. He ponders how this new plate armor of his, made from the hide of some sort of mythical beast called a Gorgon, has now made him a servant of Oozerus Oba-Dree.
Torg Goremain never thought hunting in the Underdark was a problem for him. Minitors have few enemies in the dark realms and the vast caverns below the earth. He was one of the best trackers in the drow city of V’elddrinnssahar that money could buy. Now Torg was worried he had hooked up with a group lead by a crazed dark elf. He watched as Oozerus Oba-Dree spoke to the rest of the others in careful, measured tones.
“The attacks on the Western Corridor of Thann are going well. What new information do you have Volo? Have your contacts revealed more about the next patrol?” It was said that Volo Venomweilder was a consummate assassin with many deadly skills. His half-snake half-man race was new to Torg and he had never heard of the Yuan-ti before.
“I have learned that the next patrol will leave Castle Perilous in two days. They will travel a southern rout that takes them over one bridge and thru two small villages.” Volo’s yellow snake-like eyes squinted as he hissed a sinister laugh. His scaly, red & black colored, snake skinned upper body held still while his lower snake-like torso and tail moved with coiled anticipation.
“That’s very good intel Volo. How sure are you that your informants in Thann are correct on this?” Oozerus was holding his jaw with his left hand, while his right rested on the handle of a magical rod. Black and purple tentacles extended from the magical rod as they twisted over his shoulders and around his waist. They moved seductively as if each wicked tentacle had a mind of its own, each silently pleading for Oozerus Oba-Drees attention.
“I have taken great care to assure all of my informants that should they misinform me, I will repay them and there family’s ten fold.” Volo eagerly shows his wicked fangs as they drip reflexively with deadly neurotoxin.
“I am only interested in my information being accurate. Zortal, what have you learned from dinner?” Oozerus turns to his right to face an olive green robed figure moving out of the shadows. Its milky white eyes devoid of any irises, and its slimy pale-green skin makes Torg’s own skin crawl. The creature known as a mind flayer begins to speak but no real mouth can be seen. Zortal’s voice can only be heard in there minds and not with there ears.
“Yes lord Oozerus, my dinner was delicious thank you. The conversation was a light one over dinner but I have learned that there is a new commander of Castle Perilous and he is planning some sort of warm welcome for us.” Zortal’s lower face ends with six long thin tentacles covered in a bloody gore. He casually takes out an olive green colored handkerchief, and daintily wipes the left over brain matter from each.
“Ahhh then let us not disappoint this new commander. We shall learn more about him and his warm welcome correct Zortal?
“Yes lord Oozerus, I will learn more over breakfast tomorrow.” Zortal tilts his head and if an illithiad could smile, he just did.
Oozerus turns to the Minitor and smiles “Torg Goremain, I have a mission for you. I want you to go into V’elddrinnsshar and bring Okozuko and Acra back here with you. Make sure you bring back all the supplies I have prepared for our trip. We will need them from our lair on this mission. Lets get ready because we are going hunting everyone”
|
Related Items
|
|
|
|
