The mountain literally was ice. Nothing but black, hard, cold, steeled, bloody ice. Even colder than the usual freezing, killing temperatures of the wild, icy wastes and mountainous world surrounding Savarica, the massive, jagged block of sheer dark ice gave off the silvery waves of visible chill that its frozen substance would when exposed to supposedly warm temperatures. It stood like a tiny, tall, black spike in the midst of the gray and blue mountains around it, a black king among brutal subjects. Over it all, peaks great and small, the same screaming, moaning, icy wind blew forever, never ceasing.
Standing some four score of leagues and perhaps a month or more's horrifying journey to the northwest, the mountain really went by no human name. No mortal man ever dared go near it, at least not anymore, so names were unecessary. The Norn folk, the pale ice elves, however, called it, "Shi'matan." In their own language, roughly translated, it meant, "Spire of Serpents." And such it was.
Though its lowest entrance was probably several miles and a week's journey up its black, steep surface, it was hollowed through with black caverns and halls of unnatural, black ice. Even the most daring Norn shaman and ruthless Raxarvis would be pushed to the limit to reach its entrance, let alone survive who lived inside the house of black frozen water. For inside, sheltered from the freezing, icy winds, was...a nest.
Warhespar's own nest, in which his children had been born and raised. And now, their father having been dethroned and eaten alive by his power hungry children, the four of them lived alone. The family of the great, black dragon in the mountain of black ice. The Warhespar Clan.
There was a distant beat like thunder, and then another, as the sound of a massive pair of wings cut through the wind and air, to reach ears within.
The black, half hidden shape that sat in the cavern mouth did not move or blink, the red, slitted eyes watching expressionlessly, each eye as big as a small human shield. A huge, soft rumble echoed inside the cave, just out of the dim gray light of the entrance, as the dragon changed position. The red eyes blinked.
A dark, recognizable form slowly appeared out of the frozen, snow-laden wind before the entrance, wings beating against the wind and storm. A flash of dim blue greeted the waiting fire worm's eyes, as he watched carefully the approach of his sister.
Within moments, and after a few angry attempts to flutter against the wind miles above ground, the blue dragon snorted harshly and dived in through the entrance, out of the wind, to land in a graceful pose in the black entryway. The mountain shuddered slightly as she hit the ground, and the reptilian wings folded neatly on her back. The cave, though now radiating slightly blue, visibly darkened even further than usual.
"CaaahGAGH!" The young dragon screeched harshly, coughing, snarling. "The cursed wind, it drives wings backward!"
The dark, unmoving shape further inside did not reply, only watching.
With an angry glint, the blue scaled creature turned to look inward, down into the cave. She knew who was there.
"Would you prefer to try, brother?" She spat, a blast of cold wind following her breath down into the cave. "No, you would prefer to send your siblings out to do the jobs you can do! Curse you!" Hacking up more ice from her throat, she rumbled something more, and craned her neck to glance outside at the horrible flying weather again.
The black, odd shape inside shifted again. The eyes narrowed. "You own throat destroys you, foolish sister." He growled dimly, shaking the cave ever so slightly. "Enough of your idly curses. Cease flying into the wind, and using your breath so often, and perhaps you would be strong enough to deal with what most can."
The blue, smaller dragon snapped around at this comment, with a snarl on her massive, grim jaws. "Do not mock me, brother. Don't tempt me."
"Tell me, then, and curse later: What happened? Are the Norns moving as fast as they should, or shall we motivate them further?"
"They move as they do, quickly and silently." The blue dragon muttered, moving in a little to the doorway. "We left shortly after it was over, they move for the nearest house first. House Kairok. They will not last long, the place is ill defended." She chuckled grimly. "The mortals grow soft in their safe little pen. Few defenses they leave where they should. Their blood tastes just as good, though." She grinned wickedly. Even now, her black brother could see the dark stains of red that were still on her snout. Apparently she had enjoyed herself.
"And Jorshekon? Where is he?"
"He is where he should be, no matter." She snorted. Another blast of chill ice and air that would've turned mortal skin numb for a day echoed through the cavern. "He will strike when he should. The way is open brother. Do not worry yourself, your siblings do their work well, if you do not." She couldn't resist tacking the last sentence on.
The great black did not respond for a long while, letting his sister's impudence slide.
"Good." He growled. "And House Herrsan?"
"Very soon. Kire'dephal will not last long."
"It is good then, sister. You may rest for one day, and then hurry after your red brother. We cannot waste time after this moment, they will be moving next on the board." His low rumble filled the cavern. A scent of something even more deadly than the blue dragon's icy breath filled the tense air.
Not arguing, the small blue firedrake snorted one more, and lay down right there on the spot, folding her cold, bloodless wings over herself before the entryway.
Visitors - Part 2
Monday, February 8, 2010
Riding upriver, the caravan led on by the ragged band of rangers and the wagons behind them looked visibly comforted to at last be in friendly territory. Trees dotted the flattening landscape around them, lazily shading the riverbank and gently waving in the cool winds over their heads. Farmers worked their fields, fields owned by House Herrsan so close to the count's own estate, taking care of their summer crops that grew surprisingly well in the cool natured world of Savarica. The white and blue-tinted hills around them, always around them, dotted the Savarican landscape in every direction, and even the mountains themselves looming up in the distance. Boats and river craft floated or sailed quickly up and down the massive river itself out in its glittering current, mostly flying the colors of blue and silver.
Christopher's face moved in a slight, amused smile as he pulled back his hood to enjoy the more gentle air of Savarica, as opposed to the rough wilds he had fought his way through in the past months.
"They keep these waters patrolled, don't they?"
He turned in the saddle. He had ridden a little ahead of the caravan, and turning, he could see the wagons and his own small ranger band guiding them on the road, some distance behind him, looking tired but content to be through their journey.
Except for the blue and white stranger, who had apparently ridden up beside him, half smiling. Christopher raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard him ride up, and usually he caught those things.
The blue and white colored traveler repeated his question, speaking in a friendly enough tone. "They keep that river watched, don't they?"
Christopher glanced about as if making sure he was the one being addressed by this man he had led across half the wild world to this small mountain nation hidden away in the far north, and nodded coolly.
"These waters belong to Count Chace of House Herrsan." He replied after a moment, as if that explained it all. "House Herrsan has a reputation for keeping their...estates well watched. Since the largest of the Savarica houses, and the more greedy of the five, House Davardi, is their nearest neighbor, that makes Herrsan geographically the gateway for greedy Davardi invaders to the rest of Savarica." He paused, looking out at the heavy craft on the river.
"This land wasn't always united, even after it was civilized." He added, as if as an afterthought.
After a moment, the middle-aged companion nodded, and looked ahead.
"What's that?" He pointed ahead, upriver.
Christopher turned and narrowed his eyes, looking ahead. "House Herrsan."
The house of the count himself sat just a short distance away, its parapets and walls shadowing the road from there, and its silvery towers glittering in the dying sunlight. "We'll be staying the night there. In the morning the caravan will be heading out towards the capital of Savarica, Ilelphosta. We're on the last leg of the journey, sir...?" He looked over at this inquisitive stranger.
The other looked at him for a moment, before recognizing the gesture. "OH, yes...I am Asa. At least, you may call me Asa." He added warmly, the kindly smile and friendly gray eyes still watching. Despite his warm appearance, the brightly colored stranger still had an air of dangerous power about him, especially from the heavy longsword that hung at his side and the shield on his back. An experienced edge in the tanned face of the middling man gave him away as an experienced traveler as well.
Christopher nodded cordially. "Christopher." He replied in return.
When they reached the outer gatehouse of the keep itself, which was spread out in a large clearing by the riverside, they made their way out of the shady bank wood and onto the larger surrounding fields, towards the main gate. A hail went up from the walls, apparently expected, and Christopher reached up and waved back in a return. The other stranger, Asa, watched him coolly, his tanned, hardened but kind face observing in interest. The wagons and weary caravan of travelers made their way out into the clearing, and there was the distant sound of chains rolling and wood creaking. The southern gates were opening.
Asa studied the walls carefully, with a practiced eye. "It looks like a strong house." He muttered. Christopher nodded.
"One of the strongest."
Count Chace himself was waiting when they rode in through the gates, the band of rangers and their weary charges, a few of the Herrsan workmen appeared from the various barracks and inside the house to help, as the wagons rolled wearily in and stopped here and there in the courtyard. Tired but happy, the men, women and children appeared from the wagons or got off their horses, moving to mess with their goods and possessions or prepare to set up a camp. Guards moved through the little ragtag stopped caravan, trying to being a little order to the mess or helping with the more or less able. Their own task done, Christopher's rangers rode off to the front, happy to be done for the day as they dismounted a little bit apart from the rest, to stroke down their mounts and perhaps take a bite to eat. With a groaning clang of metal and wood, the great gates of House Herrsan closed behind them, pulled by half a dozen men in silver and blue.
"Well, I've seen worse." Chace grinned grimly to himself as he strode out of the smaller exit doors of the inner keep itself, onto the courtyard. "Tired, weary people in need of a few warm fires and some good provisions." Hands on his sides, he stopped and surveyed the muddled caravan, a guard at each shoulder behind him. After a moment's observation, he turned to the men behind him.
"Hoy, you, go and have someone bring up...oh, a dozen? A dozen, then. A dozen crates of provisions to hand out among them, we had an over harvest anyway last year...and perhaps enough wood for a few large fires in the courtyard. These folk can put it to use, no doubt." Both guards bowed and rushed off, back into the keep behind them, as the count turned again and strode towards the caravan.
The sounds of families talking and working, men and women calling out as they set up their little camp, and children screaming or running about in play filled the count's ears as he made his way mostly unnoticed through the mess. His own men and guards tried to bring a little order here and there, mostly unsuccessful. These people had lived on their own for long enough that such things as orders were unnecessary.
"Hoy, Count?" A unfamiliar voice called out from the dull din, catching the sharp-eyed count's attention. He turned, to see a ragged, gray-cloaked ranger weaving his way through the confusion towards the noble count. His golden hair could be seen easily towering over the heads of the other tired human beings around him. Chace noted idly the slender sword at his side, half hidden under the cloak, and longbow upon his back.
Chace waited for him to reach him, and when Christopher bobbed him a polite nod, the count sighed as if in annoyance, though he was in a perfectly good mood.
"Yes?"
"Count Chace, I believe?"
"Yes."
The ranger bowed. "I am Christopher, guide of this caravan."
"Yes?"
"I wanted to thank you for putting them up for the night, me and my men, and our charges here."
"Yes, certainly."
"I wished to ask, can we have some food supplies and water? We have gold to pay, don't worry of that, Count..."
"Yes."
"Thank you, we appreciate it." The ranger smiled. "I also wanted to ask one other small favor of your house, lord count."
"Yes?"
"Should we be gone in the morning, can you put the caravan on the right road to Ilelphosta? My rangers may head north from here."
"Yes, I can do that."
"Thank you." Apparently finished now that he had gotten to and made his point briskly enough, the ranger flashed him a quick bow and turned to leave.
A sudden thought crossed the count's mind. "Hey, hold for a minute!"
Christopher turned, brow raised in question.
The count considered for a moment. "You're not leading these people on to the city?" He asked, studying the ranger carefully.
The ranger shook his head. "No, they can easily make their way from here. They have no need for guard and guide now, we might head north for more work from here."
"Oh." The count considered this for a moment also. "Work?"
"Yes, Count Herrsan." The neigh of a nearby horse and the creaking of a wagon rolling past to a more suitable spot filled their ears for a moment. A child ran past shouting.
"You're in need of work? You and your band?"
Christopher smiled grimly. "It's always nice to have."
"I'm sure." Chace chuckled, "Well then, suppose I hired you on? Herrsan can always use a few good men, especially veteran travelers used to wilderness like you and your type." He offered what he hoped was a kinder-than-usual look.
This stopped the ranger for a moment. He seemed to think this over for a moment behind his blue-green gaze. "...I'll talk it over with my men."
"Excellent!" Chace broke out into a smile. "Do that, will you? The provisions I'll send up directly!"
Christopher nodded. "Thank you count." After another bow, he turned and strode off, quickly lost as he weaved his way expertly through the gentle human confusion.
Christopher's face moved in a slight, amused smile as he pulled back his hood to enjoy the more gentle air of Savarica, as opposed to the rough wilds he had fought his way through in the past months.
"They keep these waters patrolled, don't they?"
He turned in the saddle. He had ridden a little ahead of the caravan, and turning, he could see the wagons and his own small ranger band guiding them on the road, some distance behind him, looking tired but content to be through their journey.
Except for the blue and white stranger, who had apparently ridden up beside him, half smiling. Christopher raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard him ride up, and usually he caught those things.
The blue and white colored traveler repeated his question, speaking in a friendly enough tone. "They keep that river watched, don't they?"
Christopher glanced about as if making sure he was the one being addressed by this man he had led across half the wild world to this small mountain nation hidden away in the far north, and nodded coolly.
"These waters belong to Count Chace of House Herrsan." He replied after a moment, as if that explained it all. "House Herrsan has a reputation for keeping their...estates well watched. Since the largest of the Savarica houses, and the more greedy of the five, House Davardi, is their nearest neighbor, that makes Herrsan geographically the gateway for greedy Davardi invaders to the rest of Savarica." He paused, looking out at the heavy craft on the river.
"This land wasn't always united, even after it was civilized." He added, as if as an afterthought.
After a moment, the middle-aged companion nodded, and looked ahead.
"What's that?" He pointed ahead, upriver.
Christopher turned and narrowed his eyes, looking ahead. "House Herrsan."
The house of the count himself sat just a short distance away, its parapets and walls shadowing the road from there, and its silvery towers glittering in the dying sunlight. "We'll be staying the night there. In the morning the caravan will be heading out towards the capital of Savarica, Ilelphosta. We're on the last leg of the journey, sir...?" He looked over at this inquisitive stranger.
The other looked at him for a moment, before recognizing the gesture. "OH, yes...I am Asa. At least, you may call me Asa." He added warmly, the kindly smile and friendly gray eyes still watching. Despite his warm appearance, the brightly colored stranger still had an air of dangerous power about him, especially from the heavy longsword that hung at his side and the shield on his back. An experienced edge in the tanned face of the middling man gave him away as an experienced traveler as well.
Christopher nodded cordially. "Christopher." He replied in return.
When they reached the outer gatehouse of the keep itself, which was spread out in a large clearing by the riverside, they made their way out of the shady bank wood and onto the larger surrounding fields, towards the main gate. A hail went up from the walls, apparently expected, and Christopher reached up and waved back in a return. The other stranger, Asa, watched him coolly, his tanned, hardened but kind face observing in interest. The wagons and weary caravan of travelers made their way out into the clearing, and there was the distant sound of chains rolling and wood creaking. The southern gates were opening.
Asa studied the walls carefully, with a practiced eye. "It looks like a strong house." He muttered. Christopher nodded.
"One of the strongest."
Count Chace himself was waiting when they rode in through the gates, the band of rangers and their weary charges, a few of the Herrsan workmen appeared from the various barracks and inside the house to help, as the wagons rolled wearily in and stopped here and there in the courtyard. Tired but happy, the men, women and children appeared from the wagons or got off their horses, moving to mess with their goods and possessions or prepare to set up a camp. Guards moved through the little ragtag stopped caravan, trying to being a little order to the mess or helping with the more or less able. Their own task done, Christopher's rangers rode off to the front, happy to be done for the day as they dismounted a little bit apart from the rest, to stroke down their mounts and perhaps take a bite to eat. With a groaning clang of metal and wood, the great gates of House Herrsan closed behind them, pulled by half a dozen men in silver and blue.
"Well, I've seen worse." Chace grinned grimly to himself as he strode out of the smaller exit doors of the inner keep itself, onto the courtyard. "Tired, weary people in need of a few warm fires and some good provisions." Hands on his sides, he stopped and surveyed the muddled caravan, a guard at each shoulder behind him. After a moment's observation, he turned to the men behind him.
"Hoy, you, go and have someone bring up...oh, a dozen? A dozen, then. A dozen crates of provisions to hand out among them, we had an over harvest anyway last year...and perhaps enough wood for a few large fires in the courtyard. These folk can put it to use, no doubt." Both guards bowed and rushed off, back into the keep behind them, as the count turned again and strode towards the caravan.
The sounds of families talking and working, men and women calling out as they set up their little camp, and children screaming or running about in play filled the count's ears as he made his way mostly unnoticed through the mess. His own men and guards tried to bring a little order here and there, mostly unsuccessful. These people had lived on their own for long enough that such things as orders were unnecessary.
"Hoy, Count?" A unfamiliar voice called out from the dull din, catching the sharp-eyed count's attention. He turned, to see a ragged, gray-cloaked ranger weaving his way through the confusion towards the noble count. His golden hair could be seen easily towering over the heads of the other tired human beings around him. Chace noted idly the slender sword at his side, half hidden under the cloak, and longbow upon his back.
Chace waited for him to reach him, and when Christopher bobbed him a polite nod, the count sighed as if in annoyance, though he was in a perfectly good mood.
"Yes?"
"Count Chace, I believe?"
"Yes."
The ranger bowed. "I am Christopher, guide of this caravan."
"Yes?"
"I wanted to thank you for putting them up for the night, me and my men, and our charges here."
"Yes, certainly."
"I wished to ask, can we have some food supplies and water? We have gold to pay, don't worry of that, Count..."
"Yes."
"Thank you, we appreciate it." The ranger smiled. "I also wanted to ask one other small favor of your house, lord count."
"Yes?"
"Should we be gone in the morning, can you put the caravan on the right road to Ilelphosta? My rangers may head north from here."
"Yes, I can do that."
"Thank you." Apparently finished now that he had gotten to and made his point briskly enough, the ranger flashed him a quick bow and turned to leave.
A sudden thought crossed the count's mind. "Hey, hold for a minute!"
Christopher turned, brow raised in question.
The count considered for a moment. "You're not leading these people on to the city?" He asked, studying the ranger carefully.
The ranger shook his head. "No, they can easily make their way from here. They have no need for guard and guide now, we might head north for more work from here."
"Oh." The count considered this for a moment also. "Work?"
"Yes, Count Herrsan." The neigh of a nearby horse and the creaking of a wagon rolling past to a more suitable spot filled their ears for a moment. A child ran past shouting.
"You're in need of work? You and your band?"
Christopher smiled grimly. "It's always nice to have."
"I'm sure." Chace chuckled, "Well then, suppose I hired you on? Herrsan can always use a few good men, especially veteran travelers used to wilderness like you and your type." He offered what he hoped was a kinder-than-usual look.
This stopped the ranger for a moment. He seemed to think this over for a moment behind his blue-green gaze. "...I'll talk it over with my men."
"Excellent!" Chace broke out into a smile. "Do that, will you? The provisions I'll send up directly!"
Christopher nodded. "Thank you count." After another bow, he turned and strode off, quickly lost as he weaved his way expertly through the gentle human confusion.
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