The town of Sellport sat nestled on the coast in the south of Orland. A thriving port it brought in spices, rare stones, silks and other materials from all over Atla. It shipped out the precious ore that Orland took it's name from and enjoyed its status as one of the largest port cities in the land. Sellport had a dark underbelly though; it was the main route for smuggling contraband into the country. A hive of smugglers, dopers, slavers and other less than reputable traders, it attracted the worst of the worst from all over Orland. Strolling down Prince's Street or walking up Emperor's Way you would think it was a town doing well off of its trade. The large sprawling houses and the well tended gardens gave an air of opulence and luxury to the more well to do areas of the city, but it was the slums where the real action was. The majority of the poorer residents of the city were given gainful employment by men and women that liked to live on the wrong side of the law. Whore houses, drug dens, gambling clubs and inns of ill repute were the big earners in the slums as the people who lived there desperately tried to forget their miserable lives, willing away the hours getting head, getting off their head, or losing their heads dependant on their luck.
One of these slums was called Minstrel's Alley. The Pot Bellied Orc was the liveliest of the inns in this part of town especially around late evening. Reven sat alone by the window nursing his ale as he looked out onto the street to view the wide birth that Fang was commanding from passers-by. In the last few years they had visited many towns and cities and Reven had learnt long ago that if he tethered Fang to a post as most did their horses people were more accepting of the beast in their midst. The fact that fang was now as tall as a carthorse and almost twice as wide meant that people treated him with reverence and kept their distance. A few of the smaller villages they had visited had asked that Reven and his companion leave, not believing that the war hound could be trusted not to kill and eat the villagers. He was an awe inspiring sight and he had got Reven out of trouble more times than he could count since they had been ejected from The Order of the Black Veil. Reven wasn't a fan of cities. He spent much of his time in them away from his friend as due to Fang's size he struggled to fit though most doors unless they belonged to a barn or stable. But unfortunately cities is where the money was and Reven and Fang were running short on funds.
Money was in fact the reason for Reven's visit to Sellport. He and some sellswords had escorted a merchants caravan from Ux, south across the plains and to the docks of the city where the merchants offloaded their wares to the waiting ships. It was one of the sellswords, a dwarf by the name of Borengar Steelskin, that had set up this meeting in the Pot Bellied Orc with Reven's next prospective employer. Borengar was running late and Reven had been sipping the same pint for the past half hour, shooing away the serving girl whenever she would approach. Experience had taught him that having a clear head when negotiating fees for his services was always prudent. As Reven returned to looking at Fang through the window he spotted the squat form of Borengar marching down the street toward the inn. He was accompanied by a tall man in bright orange robes which looked almost like they were on fire in the torchlight of the street. He sported a long black beard that almost rivalled the dwarves in length and carried a black staff that was topped with a large crimson gem. Reven straightened his jerkin and waited for the unlikely duo to enter the inn.
Borengar wasted no time in ordering in a round of ales. Shouting to the serving girl even before he and his companion had taken their seats with Reven. Borengar greeted Reven with a nod, 'This young Reven is Arnold Krassner' the dwarf said inclining his head toward the man. 'He has a very interesting proposition that he would like to talk to us about' he continued. 'This Mr Krassner is Reven and the beast you shied away from outside is his Fang' Borengar's deep voice was so captivating that some of the other patrons had turned to see who owned it and Arnold Krassner took this as his cue to speak in considerably quieter tones than the dwarf. 'I have heard tales of your exploits Reven. Borengar has been most forthcoming about you abilities when it comes to matters of the sword.' The serving girl slapped down three pints of ale interrupting Krassner who shooed her away without even sparing her a glance. Reven wasn't sure if he liked the man yet but continued listening as he spoke; one man's money was as good as anothers after all. 'There is a particular item that I would like you and Borengar to obtain for me. Unfortunately it's currently in the possession of an associate of mine who seems to be unwilling to part with it for any sum of money. It is my desire for this object that leads me to this establishment and to this meeting with fellows as fine as yourselves.' There was a sneer on Krassner's lips as he spoke of the establishment. Reven could tell he was an educated man and one who had likely never stepped foot in a place like the Pot Bellied Orc. His disdain for the place was clearly visable on his bearded face. Borengar drained the last of his ale and burped loudly before addressing Krassner, 'So you want us to alleviate your associate of this item and return it to you. What is it? A gem, an artifact of power?'. 'Nothing so exciting I'm afraid. The item I wish you to procure is a simple book. A tome that is valuable to me beyond any amount of money. I care not how you get it or what state you leave my associate in once you have located it. I just want that book.' His eyes flickered between Reven and Borengar before he spoke again. 'For your services I will pay you a thousand gold pieces.' Borengar raised an eyebrow and nudged Reven's arm at this news but Krassner hadn't finished, 'Each.' Before Reven could speak Borengar had leapt out of his seat screaming 'Done!' He fixed Reven with a stare, greed visible in his eyes. Reven rolled his eyes and settled down to listen as Krassner filled them in on exactly what he wanted them to do.
Fantasy story blog that chronicles the adventures of Reven and his war hound Fang as they quest for power and glory in a world drenched in magic, monsters and blood.
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Friday, 9 January 2015
Dungeon Crawl
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| Reven's Fang - Dungeon Crawl |
Watch this space....
Tuesday, 6 January 2015
Scent: Epilogue
The raiders fled north after the battle at Einder's Keep and straight into the militia that had been hunting them from the city of Bergen. They were slaughtered mercilessly and Bergen's Guard-Commander took full credit for their destruction and keeping the lands in western Orland safe.
Very few of Sanya's troops survived the battle at the keep. Almost a hundred of them defended it prior to the battle and now less than twenty lived and most of those that did were wounded and most likely would not fight again. Captain's Goren and Ingerham, with the few other able bodied troops that had survived made camp in the Freemarch Forest awaiting their mistresses return from Vardenfell, where she had business with The Order. That business was Reven and what his future would hold.
When Reven had ridden into the keep he was an awful sight to behold. His many wounds bled openly and Fang's sides where soaked with Reven's blood. He no longer shouted with the voice of a god but lay slumped forward on his friends back, unconscious and fading. He was treated with the rest of the wounded but many of the men would keep their distance from him after what they had witnessed on the battlefield. Superstition took hold and only Goren and Sanya would spend any time by his side. Reven's recovery from his wounds was remarkably fast. The day after the battle the remnants of the company were making ready to leave and Reven was already up and around and trying to be of use. The criss-cross of cuts that marred his young skin were already healing and the speed of his recovery only widened the gap of trust between him and the troopers of Sanya's company. Goren travelled next to Reven for the long march back to Vardenfell. Fang was the only one who seemed to be unaffected by the events at the keep. He played in the leaves and darted though the trees of the forest just as he always did. His affection for Reven had only seemed to grow and he and Fang spent more time together solidifying their bond.
Sanya, Reven and Fang left the troopers and headed on to Vardenfell and back to The Deep. Reven was presented to Master Ulfram and stood and listened whilst Mistress Sanya recounted the events of the past few weeks. Ulfram was disturbed by Reven's actions at Einder's Keep and released him from Sanya's control until the Master of Bone could be consulted. Reven was put back into his old cell in The Deep and awaited the verdict on what was to be done with him.
The Master of Bone tried to recreate the circumstances of Reven's unnatural revival by bleeding him almost dry to awaken the power that lay dormant within him without success. A team of Warriors of Bone were sent to the battleground to discern if there were mystical forces bound to the place to but no avail. After much deliberation Reven and Fang were eventually ejected from The Order and sent away to face the world of Atla alone.
Very few of Sanya's troops survived the battle at the keep. Almost a hundred of them defended it prior to the battle and now less than twenty lived and most of those that did were wounded and most likely would not fight again. Captain's Goren and Ingerham, with the few other able bodied troops that had survived made camp in the Freemarch Forest awaiting their mistresses return from Vardenfell, where she had business with The Order. That business was Reven and what his future would hold.
When Reven had ridden into the keep he was an awful sight to behold. His many wounds bled openly and Fang's sides where soaked with Reven's blood. He no longer shouted with the voice of a god but lay slumped forward on his friends back, unconscious and fading. He was treated with the rest of the wounded but many of the men would keep their distance from him after what they had witnessed on the battlefield. Superstition took hold and only Goren and Sanya would spend any time by his side. Reven's recovery from his wounds was remarkably fast. The day after the battle the remnants of the company were making ready to leave and Reven was already up and around and trying to be of use. The criss-cross of cuts that marred his young skin were already healing and the speed of his recovery only widened the gap of trust between him and the troopers of Sanya's company. Goren travelled next to Reven for the long march back to Vardenfell. Fang was the only one who seemed to be unaffected by the events at the keep. He played in the leaves and darted though the trees of the forest just as he always did. His affection for Reven had only seemed to grow and he and Fang spent more time together solidifying their bond.
Sanya, Reven and Fang left the troopers and headed on to Vardenfell and back to The Deep. Reven was presented to Master Ulfram and stood and listened whilst Mistress Sanya recounted the events of the past few weeks. Ulfram was disturbed by Reven's actions at Einder's Keep and released him from Sanya's control until the Master of Bone could be consulted. Reven was put back into his old cell in The Deep and awaited the verdict on what was to be done with him.
The Master of Bone tried to recreate the circumstances of Reven's unnatural revival by bleeding him almost dry to awaken the power that lay dormant within him without success. A team of Warriors of Bone were sent to the battleground to discern if there were mystical forces bound to the place to but no avail. After much deliberation Reven and Fang were eventually ejected from The Order and sent away to face the world of Atla alone.
Sunday, 4 January 2015
Scent: Part 34
Ropes were thrown over the invaders standard and Reven's naked, battered, bleeding body was hoisted up on to it. His arms spread wide, his body was a lattice work of knife cuts and puncture wounds. The raiders had been overly cruel to the interloper and bled him to within an inch of his life. Now he was held aloft to the baying crowd for their entertainment and as a warning to the defenders in the keep; a promise of the fate that befall all of those who opposed the horde.
Reven's vision was blurred by the constant stream of blood the flowed into his eyes. He was beyond feeling pain. He felt himself lurch forward as the bearers of the banner moved toward the keep. Although he couldn't see it he knew that the attack had begun. The raiders voices were raised in bloodthirsty cries, beating their axes and swords on their shields they surged toward Einder's Keep and their inevitable victory. Reven's head bobbed against his chest as if he were afloat at sea, blood trickled down the shaft of the standard which wobbled and shook as its bearers struggled to keep it upright with his added weight. He felt a warm wind wash over him and heard the screams of the invaders in front of him. He was glad to feel anything as his life ebbed away.
Sanya unleashed her spell and a curtain of fire smashed in to the front ranks of the attackers, immolating them. Their flesh ran like water under the intense heat of the magical fire and Sanya laughed maniacally at the damage she had wrought. Kaleth had already started her charge and smashed into the side of the attackers line, tearing and rending flesh with tooth and claw. Warriors of Iron rushed in either side of her hacking and bludgeoning the raiders with a zeal born of pure unadulterated fury. The sight of Reven's mutilated body had not sewn the seed of fear the raiders had hoped. Instead it had fanned the flames of hatred and driven Sanya's troopers into a killing frenzy. Captain Ingerham hadn't even waited for the raiders to batter the drawbridge down, in his haste to spill blood he cut the ropes and let the bridge crash down on the attackers heads; crushing and drowning them under its bulk. He was now butchering all that came within reach of his axe. Goren and his scouts, still on the battlements, were loosing arrows into the throng as fast as they could, each one finding a fleshly host. Sanya brought back her arms as she incanted, ready to send another wave of fiery death down upon the invaders. Even as she revelled in the devastation her troopers were inflicting on their foes she knew that it wouldn't be enough.
Chief Harnvok watched as his mass of troops swarmed forward. He cursed the witch and her foul magics. The price of destroying these meddlers would be higher than he expected but a warrior was measured by his enemies and his victory here would only add to his legend when it was written. The beast on his right flank was doing as much if not more damage than the woman but he had dispatched men with long spears and he was confident it would soon be brought down. He glanced over his shoulder at the battered body dangling from his standard, a smile creeping across his face. The boy was big for his age and he took more punishment than most hardened warriors would have been able to take. He still clung to life even though Harnvok was sure that he didn't cling to any hope. He turned back to the battle in front of him, waiting for the tide to turn as it inevitably would. He didn't have to wait long before the assault of the tiny defending force started to falter. He knew it would, greater numbers would always win the day. The defenders at the keeps bridge were being driven back. The attack on his flank slowed as the beast drove too deeply into the raider ranks and lost the band of warriors that were protecting it's sides. Soon the arrows would stop falling from the battlements as their supplies dwindled and then they would sweep the defenders aside. There was a measure of respect for these warriors.For so small a number they had taken a horrific toll in their defence. Maybe showing off the boys battered body wasn't the best idea he thought looking once more upon the bloodied body.
Captain Goren was the last man on the battlements. His men had followed Sanya down the stairs to bolster Ingherham and his men. He watched as his friends troops lost more ground as the press of raiders squeezed between the arches of the keeps gate. The ground was thick with blood, entrails and the fallen bodies of friend and foe that lay strewn across the cobblestones of the keeps floor. He gazed out across to where Kaleth's advance had faltered. He couldn't see the men that had been sent to assist her and she was now being jabbed and harried by men with long spears. The war hound was near unstoppable when she had room to move put they pressed her on all side finding chinks in her armour and stabbing their spear tips into her thickly muscled flesh. Some of the raiders were using the vines that grew up the old walls of the keep to climb the battlements. They would soon be upon Goren and as he stared out at the horde of raiders he almost felt glad death was coming. He stole a glance at Sanya, she had made her way to the front rank of defenders and stood shoulder to shoulder with Captain Ingerham. She carved a bloody ruin in the attackers, a whirlwind of death, her blade flashed out severing limbs from bodies and heads from necks but as he watched he knew even a warrior as prolific as her could not stem the tide of raiders. There were still too many of them and the Warriors of Iron were falling too fast. Goren steeled himself, before he met his doom he would commit one last act of kindness. He knocked the last of his arrows to his bow string and drew it back, his eye settling on the dripping red monstrosity that was once the boy Reven. He would end his suffering cleanly. He drew back further still on the string as he settled his aim but then a head popped over the battlements directly in front of him, spoiling is shot. The bow string twanged as he released his arrow and he watched it fly as the raider hauled himself up and drew his sword.
The last noise Reven heard before losing consciousness was a scream. Was it him? He didn't know, he didn't care, he fell into darkness...
The enveloping darkness of the room was all around him. His red eyed tormentor kneeled over him, fastening his clothes about him. His body ached from head to toe. He raised his head wearily to look down upon his tortured body. There was no sign of the cuts the thing had made in his flesh, the hole in his shoulder was already healing. He looked into the face of the armoured giant in front of him and felt only despair. It stood, towering over him and then it spoke, its voice deep and gravely boomed through the grill in its helmet, 'It doesn't take long for eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. It takes less time for souls to become accustomed to darkness and hearts to grow black as night. You are our ever burning light', he flicked what felt like water over Reven as he spoke. 'You are our vessel of judgement, the collector of skulls. You shall be our champion in this never ending fight.' The thing finished splashing water on Reven and stepped back into the darkness, 'You are our vessel and I deliver you unto this world, bring it to its knees' and with that the red eyes blinked out and Reven was alone. His eyes closed once more as he fell into darkness.
Revens eyes snapped open. The standard was falling forward and he was falling with it. Goren's arrow had missed him and instead found one of the standard bearers, who had died screaming. Chief Harnvok stood before him, mouth gaping as he threw his arms up in front of him to protect himself from the falling boy. Reven landed on him hard, knocking him to the ground. Harnvok tried to push him off but the slick, greasy blood that covered Reven's body prevented him getting any purchase on the boy. Reven lay chest to chest with the raiders chieftain and smiled as thoughts of Fang came unbidden into his mind. With no weapons available to him he brought his hands up to either side of the chiefs neck. Harnvok tried to pin Reven's arms back but they were being driven forward with unnatural strength. As they closed around the chiefs neck Reven drove his thumbs into the taught flesh and then tearing a hole buried his face in the bloody mess, biting through windpipe and jugular as if he were a beast himself. Harnvok's body spasmed as Reven tore his throat out and then lay still. Reven sat up, still astride the chief and howled like a demon as the dead chiefs blood dripped from his chin and mingled with his own as it splattered on his chest. The raiders nearby drew back from the boy as he rose and stood over the body of their dead leader. He looked fearsome, his naked body red with blood and his eyes bright with a madness that froze the blood in the warriors veins. He reached down and slid a hand under Harnvok's helmet, taking him by the hair. He wrenched savagely and ripped the dead mans head off of his shoulders and held it aloft for all to see. Reven circled on the spot, showing the grisly trophy to the ever receding circle of men. 'I am their vessel' he intoned as they backed away. 'I am ruin, I am death, look upon me and despair' Reven's voice was so loud that the men nearest him covered their ears as if they were being shouted at by a god. Fear spread through out the raiders army as his words echoed over the battleground. A hole punched clean through the raiders line as a bloody Fang made his way to his friend. Reven swung himself up onto Fangs back and still holding Harnvok's head aloft he rode through the fleeing crowds of raiders toward the keep spreading palpable fear in his wake.
Reven's vision was blurred by the constant stream of blood the flowed into his eyes. He was beyond feeling pain. He felt himself lurch forward as the bearers of the banner moved toward the keep. Although he couldn't see it he knew that the attack had begun. The raiders voices were raised in bloodthirsty cries, beating their axes and swords on their shields they surged toward Einder's Keep and their inevitable victory. Reven's head bobbed against his chest as if he were afloat at sea, blood trickled down the shaft of the standard which wobbled and shook as its bearers struggled to keep it upright with his added weight. He felt a warm wind wash over him and heard the screams of the invaders in front of him. He was glad to feel anything as his life ebbed away.
Sanya unleashed her spell and a curtain of fire smashed in to the front ranks of the attackers, immolating them. Their flesh ran like water under the intense heat of the magical fire and Sanya laughed maniacally at the damage she had wrought. Kaleth had already started her charge and smashed into the side of the attackers line, tearing and rending flesh with tooth and claw. Warriors of Iron rushed in either side of her hacking and bludgeoning the raiders with a zeal born of pure unadulterated fury. The sight of Reven's mutilated body had not sewn the seed of fear the raiders had hoped. Instead it had fanned the flames of hatred and driven Sanya's troopers into a killing frenzy. Captain Ingerham hadn't even waited for the raiders to batter the drawbridge down, in his haste to spill blood he cut the ropes and let the bridge crash down on the attackers heads; crushing and drowning them under its bulk. He was now butchering all that came within reach of his axe. Goren and his scouts, still on the battlements, were loosing arrows into the throng as fast as they could, each one finding a fleshly host. Sanya brought back her arms as she incanted, ready to send another wave of fiery death down upon the invaders. Even as she revelled in the devastation her troopers were inflicting on their foes she knew that it wouldn't be enough.
Chief Harnvok watched as his mass of troops swarmed forward. He cursed the witch and her foul magics. The price of destroying these meddlers would be higher than he expected but a warrior was measured by his enemies and his victory here would only add to his legend when it was written. The beast on his right flank was doing as much if not more damage than the woman but he had dispatched men with long spears and he was confident it would soon be brought down. He glanced over his shoulder at the battered body dangling from his standard, a smile creeping across his face. The boy was big for his age and he took more punishment than most hardened warriors would have been able to take. He still clung to life even though Harnvok was sure that he didn't cling to any hope. He turned back to the battle in front of him, waiting for the tide to turn as it inevitably would. He didn't have to wait long before the assault of the tiny defending force started to falter. He knew it would, greater numbers would always win the day. The defenders at the keeps bridge were being driven back. The attack on his flank slowed as the beast drove too deeply into the raider ranks and lost the band of warriors that were protecting it's sides. Soon the arrows would stop falling from the battlements as their supplies dwindled and then they would sweep the defenders aside. There was a measure of respect for these warriors.For so small a number they had taken a horrific toll in their defence. Maybe showing off the boys battered body wasn't the best idea he thought looking once more upon the bloodied body.
Captain Goren was the last man on the battlements. His men had followed Sanya down the stairs to bolster Ingherham and his men. He watched as his friends troops lost more ground as the press of raiders squeezed between the arches of the keeps gate. The ground was thick with blood, entrails and the fallen bodies of friend and foe that lay strewn across the cobblestones of the keeps floor. He gazed out across to where Kaleth's advance had faltered. He couldn't see the men that had been sent to assist her and she was now being jabbed and harried by men with long spears. The war hound was near unstoppable when she had room to move put they pressed her on all side finding chinks in her armour and stabbing their spear tips into her thickly muscled flesh. Some of the raiders were using the vines that grew up the old walls of the keep to climb the battlements. They would soon be upon Goren and as he stared out at the horde of raiders he almost felt glad death was coming. He stole a glance at Sanya, she had made her way to the front rank of defenders and stood shoulder to shoulder with Captain Ingerham. She carved a bloody ruin in the attackers, a whirlwind of death, her blade flashed out severing limbs from bodies and heads from necks but as he watched he knew even a warrior as prolific as her could not stem the tide of raiders. There were still too many of them and the Warriors of Iron were falling too fast. Goren steeled himself, before he met his doom he would commit one last act of kindness. He knocked the last of his arrows to his bow string and drew it back, his eye settling on the dripping red monstrosity that was once the boy Reven. He would end his suffering cleanly. He drew back further still on the string as he settled his aim but then a head popped over the battlements directly in front of him, spoiling is shot. The bow string twanged as he released his arrow and he watched it fly as the raider hauled himself up and drew his sword.
The last noise Reven heard before losing consciousness was a scream. Was it him? He didn't know, he didn't care, he fell into darkness...
The enveloping darkness of the room was all around him. His red eyed tormentor kneeled over him, fastening his clothes about him. His body ached from head to toe. He raised his head wearily to look down upon his tortured body. There was no sign of the cuts the thing had made in his flesh, the hole in his shoulder was already healing. He looked into the face of the armoured giant in front of him and felt only despair. It stood, towering over him and then it spoke, its voice deep and gravely boomed through the grill in its helmet, 'It doesn't take long for eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. It takes less time for souls to become accustomed to darkness and hearts to grow black as night. You are our ever burning light', he flicked what felt like water over Reven as he spoke. 'You are our vessel of judgement, the collector of skulls. You shall be our champion in this never ending fight.' The thing finished splashing water on Reven and stepped back into the darkness, 'You are our vessel and I deliver you unto this world, bring it to its knees' and with that the red eyes blinked out and Reven was alone. His eyes closed once more as he fell into darkness.
Revens eyes snapped open. The standard was falling forward and he was falling with it. Goren's arrow had missed him and instead found one of the standard bearers, who had died screaming. Chief Harnvok stood before him, mouth gaping as he threw his arms up in front of him to protect himself from the falling boy. Reven landed on him hard, knocking him to the ground. Harnvok tried to push him off but the slick, greasy blood that covered Reven's body prevented him getting any purchase on the boy. Reven lay chest to chest with the raiders chieftain and smiled as thoughts of Fang came unbidden into his mind. With no weapons available to him he brought his hands up to either side of the chiefs neck. Harnvok tried to pin Reven's arms back but they were being driven forward with unnatural strength. As they closed around the chiefs neck Reven drove his thumbs into the taught flesh and then tearing a hole buried his face in the bloody mess, biting through windpipe and jugular as if he were a beast himself. Harnvok's body spasmed as Reven tore his throat out and then lay still. Reven sat up, still astride the chief and howled like a demon as the dead chiefs blood dripped from his chin and mingled with his own as it splattered on his chest. The raiders nearby drew back from the boy as he rose and stood over the body of their dead leader. He looked fearsome, his naked body red with blood and his eyes bright with a madness that froze the blood in the warriors veins. He reached down and slid a hand under Harnvok's helmet, taking him by the hair. He wrenched savagely and ripped the dead mans head off of his shoulders and held it aloft for all to see. Reven circled on the spot, showing the grisly trophy to the ever receding circle of men. 'I am their vessel' he intoned as they backed away. 'I am ruin, I am death, look upon me and despair' Reven's voice was so loud that the men nearest him covered their ears as if they were being shouted at by a god. Fear spread through out the raiders army as his words echoed over the battleground. A hole punched clean through the raiders line as a bloody Fang made his way to his friend. Reven swung himself up onto Fangs back and still holding Harnvok's head aloft he rode through the fleeing crowds of raiders toward the keep spreading palpable fear in his wake.
Saturday, 3 January 2015
Scent: Part 33
Reven spied on the stewards, they were women and young boys and they carried food and weapons forward into the mass of raiders. The army was at rest waiting for the last of the flames to subside at the front of the keep. Reven couldn't even see the keep over the sea of bodies that lay between him and his companions. He had decided that he had no interest in running, he wanted to walk the Path of Iron which meant being as strong and as unyielding as the metal. He would fight with Sanya and her troops and take as many of theses invaders with him as he could. He despised these men. They were parasites feeding off of the good people of Orland and spreading death and destruction wherever they went. He could feel anger swelling inside him and smiled to himself as the thought of Fang ripping into them and tearing them limb from limb filled his mind.
Reven crept forward and positioned himself behind one of the waggon's that carried rolled up tents and poles. They hadn't been unpacked, obviously the raiders didn't think they would be here long enough to need them. The stewards were still running back and forth past him with huge pans filled with stew and hunks of bread tucked under their arms. Reven piked his mark and put his plan into action.
The boy was stumbling along under the weight of the pots he carried. Carrying one in each hand by its handle, he weaved as if drunk struggling with their weight. 'Pssstt', he heard from one of the waggons, 'Here boy, help me with this' an unfamiliar voice said. He placed the pans one the floor and went to investigate, rounding the corner of the waggon. As soon as he had done so Reven's hand was over his mouth and his sword was buried to the hilt in the boys soft flesh. A clean kill as the sword penetrated the boys heart and be stilled it forever. Reven wasted no time in pulling the boy off into the bushes where Fang was waiting. He left the sword in place so the boys blood didn't soil the clothes too much and started stripping him. As soon as the boys shirt, jerkin and breeches were off he rolled the body away, wrenching his sword free and wiping the sticky blood on the grassy floor. He slipped the clothes over his tight fitting armour and removed his cloak, leaving it in the bushes with Fang. He used a shred of the boys shirt to fasten his sword to his leg so it wouldn't stick out and betray him for what he really was; today he was an assassin, his target the head of this rabble of raiders. He left Fang with final orders and made his way back to the pots the boy had left before heading into the army in search of his quarry.
Mistress Sanya watched as the last of flames from the oil licked across the surface of the moat and then finally dies with a wisp of black smoke. That was what the invaders were waiting for, already they were forming ranks just awaiting their leaders order to destroy Einder Keep and all that dwelled within. She looked toward where Kaleth stood, her war hound looked majestic in her armour, a fearsome queen of the beasts. Kaleth turned to face her and met her gaze and then let out a long howl, signalling the defenders that the long wait for their deaths would soon be over. Sanya smiled, if they were to meet their end here she would make sure that it was an end worthy of poem and song, her Warriors of Iron would would sell the lives dearly today and the cost for them would be paid in raider blood.
Reven made his way through the raiders. They were big men, corded with muscle and covered in swirling tattoo's that covered their arms and faces. The army was being roused and most of the men were on their feet and moving toward the front lines. Reven realised that he didn't know what he was looking for. There were so many of them how would he ever be able to find the chief. He continued pushing his way through the crowds until at last he spied a banner that rose above the raiders heads. He thought that as good a place as any and started heading toward it. He was only twenty paces away when another steward appeared out of the crowd and headed towards him. She grabbed his arm, 'We're to go back, our masters ready for battle' she said in a thick guttural accent. Reven pulled his arm free and continued pushing on through the raiders toward the standard. He felt a hand on his shoulder this time and the girl spun him. Went he rounded to face her he could see a look of surprise on his face. She banged him on the shoulder and cried out in pain as her hand met the unyielding metal of his armoured shoulder guard. Her eyes went wide as she cried out in alarm gaining the attention of the nearby troops. 'Assassin' she cried, 'assassin', Reven swung one of the pots at her which smashed into the side of her head sending her crashing into a group of raiders. Immediately rough hands grabbed for him as a knot of the invading troops closed around him. Reven couldn't draw his sword free quick enough and was soon battered to the floor by the pounding of fists and feet.
Reven crept forward and positioned himself behind one of the waggon's that carried rolled up tents and poles. They hadn't been unpacked, obviously the raiders didn't think they would be here long enough to need them. The stewards were still running back and forth past him with huge pans filled with stew and hunks of bread tucked under their arms. Reven piked his mark and put his plan into action.
The boy was stumbling along under the weight of the pots he carried. Carrying one in each hand by its handle, he weaved as if drunk struggling with their weight. 'Pssstt', he heard from one of the waggons, 'Here boy, help me with this' an unfamiliar voice said. He placed the pans one the floor and went to investigate, rounding the corner of the waggon. As soon as he had done so Reven's hand was over his mouth and his sword was buried to the hilt in the boys soft flesh. A clean kill as the sword penetrated the boys heart and be stilled it forever. Reven wasted no time in pulling the boy off into the bushes where Fang was waiting. He left the sword in place so the boys blood didn't soil the clothes too much and started stripping him. As soon as the boys shirt, jerkin and breeches were off he rolled the body away, wrenching his sword free and wiping the sticky blood on the grassy floor. He slipped the clothes over his tight fitting armour and removed his cloak, leaving it in the bushes with Fang. He used a shred of the boys shirt to fasten his sword to his leg so it wouldn't stick out and betray him for what he really was; today he was an assassin, his target the head of this rabble of raiders. He left Fang with final orders and made his way back to the pots the boy had left before heading into the army in search of his quarry.
Mistress Sanya watched as the last of flames from the oil licked across the surface of the moat and then finally dies with a wisp of black smoke. That was what the invaders were waiting for, already they were forming ranks just awaiting their leaders order to destroy Einder Keep and all that dwelled within. She looked toward where Kaleth stood, her war hound looked majestic in her armour, a fearsome queen of the beasts. Kaleth turned to face her and met her gaze and then let out a long howl, signalling the defenders that the long wait for their deaths would soon be over. Sanya smiled, if they were to meet their end here she would make sure that it was an end worthy of poem and song, her Warriors of Iron would would sell the lives dearly today and the cost for them would be paid in raider blood.
Reven made his way through the raiders. They were big men, corded with muscle and covered in swirling tattoo's that covered their arms and faces. The army was being roused and most of the men were on their feet and moving toward the front lines. Reven realised that he didn't know what he was looking for. There were so many of them how would he ever be able to find the chief. He continued pushing his way through the crowds until at last he spied a banner that rose above the raiders heads. He thought that as good a place as any and started heading toward it. He was only twenty paces away when another steward appeared out of the crowd and headed towards him. She grabbed his arm, 'We're to go back, our masters ready for battle' she said in a thick guttural accent. Reven pulled his arm free and continued pushing on through the raiders toward the standard. He felt a hand on his shoulder this time and the girl spun him. Went he rounded to face her he could see a look of surprise on his face. She banged him on the shoulder and cried out in pain as her hand met the unyielding metal of his armoured shoulder guard. Her eyes went wide as she cried out in alarm gaining the attention of the nearby troops. 'Assassin' she cried, 'assassin', Reven swung one of the pots at her which smashed into the side of her head sending her crashing into a group of raiders. Immediately rough hands grabbed for him as a knot of the invading troops closed around him. Reven couldn't draw his sword free quick enough and was soon battered to the floor by the pounding of fists and feet.
Friday, 2 January 2015
Thursday, 1 January 2015
Scent: Part 32
On the battlements Sanya watched the raiders horde ready themselves for the next attack. Captain Ingherham and his troops were standing behind the raised drawbridge, ready to repel the invaders when the door shattered. Goren and his men stood on the battlements waiting to loose their arrows in to the mass of flesh that would soon be rushing at them. The rest of Sanya's troops were waiting at the side of the keep with instructions to rope down the side of the walls as soon as the attack began. Kaleth would go with them and their job would be to sow confusion amongst the raiders by flanking them. The war hound would rip them to shreds whilst the Warriors of Iron protected her sides and dealt as much death as they could.
Like all of the warriors of the Black Veil Sanya was able to wield magic to aid her. Those on the Path of Bone were most gifted and their abilities were mighty in comparison to the others in the order but each member trained was taught spells to aid them. For the Warriors of Iron this meant spells of healing and destruction that could be used close up to heal themselves or a comrade or attack a foe. Sanya was more practised in the arts of sorcery and as she stood looking out over the horde she drew upon the energies swirling around the keep. She chose her most destructive spell and would unleash it when Kaleth attacked, she sorely hoped that she would survive the day so that she could be with her companion again. Movement in the ranks of the raiders caught Sanya's attention, the attack would begin soon.
Reven and Fang had made their way to the trees and found no sign of the scouts. He looked back toward the keep and found it strange how much he wanted to be behind its walls with Sanya facing the horde instead of here alone and safe. Fang emitted a low growl as if he shared Reven's thoughts. It was useless thinking anyway, they had a job to do and if they could find the scouts they would help their friends inside the keep.
They headed south, keeping a safe distance from the raiders they circled round to the rear of the army's position. Here there were the armies support, the baggage train and cooks were making busy, preparing meals and taking supplies of arrows forward into the massive throng of the invaders force. Looking out at the army Reven's sense of foreboding returned. It was too big to be beat by Sanya's tiny force however skilled they were. Reven motioned for Fang to lay and wait whilst he moved forward to get a better look at the camp as an idea started to form.
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