The Guardians' Blade

The streets were alive with playing children, travelers from various parts of the continent, and merchants with their creaking wagons. The strong odor of fish came from the lake’s little harbor where a small fishing fleet anchored at certain times during the day. “You there!” Soryn drew his large destrider to a halt. The massive horse snorted, and pawed at the ground in response. Krammer pointed at a scrawny little man carrying a bundle on his back. “Which way to the Brazen Pony Inn?”

The little man halted and stared at the regal looking stranger. “Jus’ down tha’ ther’ stree’. Ya canna miss it.” He flashed a toothless grin and trotted off as if those directions could be followed by anyone.

Krammer stared after the little man, than glanced at his companions. Alixa and Boar shrugged their shoulders, turning their destriders in an attempt to follow the toothless one’s directions. The destriders all sighed at once, as if not very amused with these two-legged people, and trod down the cobblestoned street, their massive hooves making loud clicking noises. Most of the streets of this simple fishing village were dirt tracks, though there where cobbled streets where the wealthy lived, or where some of the better class of businesses thrived. The way to the inn was like trying to navigate a maze in the center of the town’s chaotic sprawl. However it wasn’t long before they reached the popular inn. The simple directions had not really helped, but the amount of people amassing in this area caused Soryn to investigate.

Sure enough there it stood, a double storied building that, however, looked poky and small. One could not imagine that it could house so many patrons as it did. Horses were tethered to posts out at the front gate. When the Guardians approached after tying their own animals to the posts, the patrons enjoying a drink on the porch parted to let them through. The common room was full of milling bodies; men, Krysalith and Mar’quie, the three main races that inhabited the area. Each of the races was different in temperament to the other, and yet somehow, despite the petty conflicts and bickering, there were no major incidents. As the three Guardians glanced about them in the common room, their senses were assaulted by a myriad of voices, scents and activity previously unknown to them. The Guardians were a well-travelled people, but the Golden Realms was a new territory that they had entered, and were now learning about. “And we are meant to stay here when not on patrol?” Soryn was not impressed.

“Perhaps Councilor Yorn thought for us to get to know the inhabitants of these lands,” offered Boar as he watched a Mar’quie slink past, clad in leather tunic and clutching a large mug full to the brim of ale in its clawed hands. Its tail trailed in its wake as it weaved its way amongst the patrons. He smiled a little to himself. “You certainly can’t avoid them here.”

Krammer let out a grunt, still not all that happy, as he worked his way slowly through the crowd towards the bar. He signaled to a saucy-looking serving wench. “Three rooms, please.” He doubted that there would be any free rooms as the common room was so full – however, the woman returned with three keys and offered him a bright smile.

“ ’ere ya go mister. ’ope yer enjoy yer stay.”

“Thank you,” he drawled dryly, taking the keys and turned to seek out Boar and Alixa, whom he spotted by a wall out of the way of the bustling lively crowd. Jerking his head in the direction of the stairs after catching their gaze, he made for the stairs himself. There were so many people in the common room he was starting to feel a little claustrophobic and needed to get some air.

The Guardians made their way up to the second story, noticing how the noise lessened once they were upstairs. Immediately they began searching for the door numbers that matched the tags on their keys. They found the rooms next to one another. Each simple room comprised of a hearth, a bed, wardrobe, desk and chair and a window that opened out over building rooftops towards the lake in the distance. Sir Krammer entered his room, glancing around as he set his helm on the desk and unclasped his heavy hooded cloak, revealing the fine black uniform beneath. It would do; it wasn’t home, but it would suffice for the moment. A Guardian couldn’t exactly be picky. Padding on booted feet over to the window, Krammer drew the curtain aside and looked out into the gloom, while idly rubbing at his shoulder. He hadn’t expected to see anything significant outside but something caught his attention. On the opposite side of the street to the inn, down below stood a girl. Her attire was different to others he had seen lately, tan and forest green in coloring – leggings, boots, tunic, belt, hooded cloak – and she had the most striking eyes he had ever seen. They were the color of blue sapphires, and they held his gaze in a firm and commanding manner for what seemed almost an eternity as if she was staring right into his soul or reading his mind. Her skin was fair, her hair a dark auburn red, and her face was almost angelic. He had never seen a face like that before. Pale, with slightly slanted eyes, a little dainty nose, high cheekbones, a pointed chin, full soft lips and pointed ears. She seemed very much out of this world to him, as if she didn’t belong; and yet she seemed to be attempting to blend in. Just as he was going to follow his instincts and head downstairs to try and approach her, a cart moved past, blocking his view of her for what seemed like a split second, and when it was gone, it was as if she had never been there. A knock on the door disturbed him, and turning from the window he let the curtain fall back into place as he moved to open the door.

Boar entered the room. “Shall we brave the common room for an evening meal?” he asked.

Krammer nodded and stepped out, drawing the door closed behind him and locked it. The two Guardians strode down the hallway, taking the stairs down into the bustling common room. They managed to secure for themselves a booth near the hearth. Settling into his seat, Soryn slowly glanced around, noting there was a higher number of Omarians than Krysalith or Mar’quie this particular evening. But a rather interesting group sitting at a nearby table caught his eye.

Two men, a woman, two Krysalith and a Mar’quie were eating boisterously together. But what Soryn noticed the most was the woman in white; these were robes worn by the order of the Peacekeepers. This particular order had their base on the Island of Shari in the center of the lake of Shimmering where they trained healers, diplomats and ambassadors. The Guardians held the Peacekeepers in high respect for their ceaseless work amongst the various races. Soryn was immediately curious as to why a Peacekeeper was out here. His evening, he deemed, was getting more and more mysterious by the moment. Something was afoot.

“See something?” asked Boar.

“Indeed, a curious sight.” Krammer jerked his head in the direction of the group.

“Wonder what she’s doing here,” murmured Boar as he gave a quick glance.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Krammer lifted a hand to flag down one of the serving wenches so they could order themselves a meal. While waiting he became aware of an anxious conversation taking place at a neighboring booth.

Two men were sitting huddled together over mugs of ale. It sounded as if the subject they were discussing was highly dangerous. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’ve seen ‘em. Strange lookin’ creatures – they got beady eyes that make yer blood run cold. They didna’ talk but made peculiar noises, an’ tha’ one that looked at me, I swear ‘e was gonna kill me if me brother hadn’t come alon’ and startled it.”

His companion sipped at his ale then leaned close, glancing around before whispering huskily, “I dun one better, I be gone to the Dilbare plains with me sheep. An’ I seen smoke comin’ from that new Guardian Fortress in Th’m mountains. I got me’self-curious and I an’ a mate went climbin’. An’ we saw all those black critters swamin’ tha’ there walls up there.”

The first nodded slowly. “It’s tha’ Wolf King, they gone an’ say he come down from tha’ icy waste of tha’ north an’ e’s marchin’ south.”

The second whispered, “An’ ‘es got a big dark army followin’ ’im. I dun think even ‘em Guardians’ c’n stand up to ‘im. Na’ when I dun saw a fortress lost to ’im.”

Krammer frowned at what he was overhearing. These rumors were dangerous and could spread like wildfire. He leaned back in his seat as the meals arrived, brought over by a plumpish serving wench who attempted to catch his eye. Soryn was too busy with his thoughts to take any notice. Who was this Wolf King? It was an odd but striking title; that was for sure. There were murmurings about movement in the north; was this Wolf King responsible for that?

There was little talk between the two Guardians as there was enough conversation going on around them without them having to add to it. Both were deep in their own personal thoughts with regard to the current disturbances in the north. While eating his meal Krammer’s attention was again drawn back to the Peacekeeper and her companions, especially when one of the men mentioned the Wolf King. It seemed to be the topic of the evening.

“We have to prepare for anything. If he’s made a move and taken the Dilbare Fortress then he has a sure foothold within the Golden Realms.”

“And what exactly are we going to do?” one of the Krysalith spoke, a striking beauty with multi-coloured eyes of sapphire and emerald.

“Go to the Guardians,” came the man’s response. “See if these Guardians mean what they are promising. It is one of their own newly built Fortresses that they have just lost.”

“Are you suggesting that we ride to Ramoth and tell the Guardians to deal with the Wolf King?” the beauty demanded.

“Are they doing something though? I don’t see them doing anything.” He looked over to the Peacekeeper. “What do you say, Dovelin?”

All attention, including that of the eavesdroppers, now settled on the woman in white. “I believe we should be patient. The Fortress of Dilbare has only recently fallen. The Guardians will respond when they are ready.”

Silence fell around the table. Soryn looked at Boar who had been listening intently as well.

“Interesting dinner conversation,” remarked Soryn, draining his mug.

“I am wondering if this is the real reason we were sent here.” Boar broke some bread and wiped up the gravy on his plate.

“To listen to the people complain and murmur about some Wolf King?”

“Perhaps.” Boar washed the bread down with his ale. Krammer shook his head. He rose to his feet, and was returning to his rooms when he was stopped halfway up the stairs by Alixa, who was coming down. “Sir Krammer, what do you think of this place?” Her question was unexpected and curious.

“I have yet to make a judgement,” came his brisk response. He paused, as if realizing how that sounded. “A Guardian always reserves making judgments on places and people unless it has to do with a criminal element of some kind. These realms are different to others, and so are the races. But I think that is what makes this continent so unique – the many races and the many countries that exist here.” He offered the young Guardian female a smile and clasped her shoulder for a moment, before he continued on up the stairs.

Alixa mused over Krammer’s words as she made her way downstairs to the common room. It was full of activity, and she wove her way amongst the various patrons to where Boar was sitting. Plopping down in the booth she took a deep breath and looked over at the ex-Shadow Warrior. “So are we enjoying ourselves yet?”

“Somewhat, I have a feeling that Yorn didn’t send us to this Inn just to rest. I have a feeling that it’s the perfect place to pick up on the pulse of the Realms, and learn what everyone really thinks, away from the bureaucracy of the ruling parties.”

“Boar, you don’t seem to like rulers!” teased Alixa as she signaled to a waitress. “I can see your meaning. The aristocrats like to keep themselves separate from those they consider poor, and the ministers who help run these countries speak a completely different language and refuse to answer any questions asked of them, or properly explain themselves.” She shook her head. “Nothing is simple any more, the times are changing.”

Boar nodded. “But there is a small element, among those who have to carry the heavy burden of leadership, who do the right thing.” He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped at his ale slowly as he paused in what he was saying, before continuing. “The actual truth, however, comes from the people themselves who live beneath the laws of the rulers, and who can see if the infrastructure is working or not.” He waved a hand as if to dismiss that particular subject. “But that’s not what we are here for. There is something else worth listening to here.”

“What would that be?”

“Sir Wolfbane and the various Councils are concerned about this Wolf King, and it seems that they aren’t the only ones. The peoples in this realm are very much aware of this northern menace. They are afraid, but don’t know what to do about it.” Boar shrugged his shoulders slightly, glancing at Alixa. “So it may well be that we aren’t the only ones lining up for a fight this time.”

Alixa blinked at Boar, tilting her head slightly in somewhat surprise. “You think that these peoples might actually fight with us?” She scratched the back of her neck thoughtfully. Up until now, it had seemed that it was the Guardians doing all the work, fighting for what was right, trying to defend the other kingdoms from the influences and reach of the north. She smiled a little as she looked up at Boar. “Kinda makes you feel a little better, if you know there are people out there willing to support you and back you up.”

Boar nodded in agreement. “Indeed, it is quite different to the people of Hymbroli who would rather forget that you exist, than acknowledge your presence.” He held up his mug as Alixa’s drink arrived, and announced a toast. “To the future!”

Alixa grinned and lightly clanked her mug against his. “To the future!” she rejoined and took a good swig of her ale, before wiping the back of her hand against her mouth. “That’s good stuff!” This got a loud laugh from the ex-Shadow Warrior, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

After a couple more mugs, Alixa glanced about and then noted a group sitting at another table. She kicked Boar under the table and said as quietly as she could, “I’ve never seen a Peacekeeper before. I mean, not like this; usually I’ve seen ‘em near the battlefield where we might fight, or I might see them going in to talk to the Council or somethin’.” She idly nibbled on nuts from a bowl that had been placed on their table. “So what’s she doing ’ere?” Her words were a little slurred by now.

Boar twisted slightly in his seat, to get another look at the company that he and Krammer had spotted earlier, and noted that they were still at the same table. He then faced Alixa again, folding his arms and leaning on the table. “Dunno, but she seems friendly with that lot. Might be that she’s got an assignment in this area.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly before reaching for his mug.

“An assignment? What kinda assignment? I dun see any wars happening around here at the moment.” Alixa frowned a little. “An’ I don’t see any Kings or Nobles demanding diplomats or ambassadors. Why’d she come ‘ere? It’s too common for tha’ likes of ’er.”

“Maybe that’s where you’re seeing things wrongly.” Boar looked over his mug at the young Guardian. “The Shan-gri-lia is an order that go out to help the people, whether they be poor or rich, sick or well. They are one of the few who are not yet touched by greed in these lands.” Boar looked slowly around towards the table in question. “Still, you’ve got something there, and I’m sure Krammer would want to find out too at some point.”

The small group around the table finally began to disperse, with the men leaving first, followed by the Mar’quie and then the two Krysalith, leaving the Peacekeeper alone at the table for a moment. She seemed to be deep in thought, and then stirred sharply when she realized she was no longer alone. Boar and Alixa quickly took up seats next to and across from her.

“Can I help you?” When she spoke, it was with a demure and almost queenly tone, and yet at the same time not arrogant, but genuine in a desire to assist them if possible, or find out what they wanted.

Boar nodded as he clasped his hands together, staring at the woman a long moment before finally speaking. “Me and my friend here couldn’t help but notice you. I know the Island is very close, but I didn’t think Peacekeepers were the kind to frequent inns and taverns.”

The woman smiled a little, as if she found these two beings highly amusing, and put the glass of wine that she had been sipping down on the table surface with a soft little click. “Perhaps I should say the same of you Guardians, it is not usual for your kind to frequent inns and taverns either; unless you are here to arrest a criminal or to question someone.” She tilted her head slightly while looking over at the other two. Then she decided to be a little more civil before Boar could start an argument. “I am Lady Dovelin. I have been asked to investigate the happenings in the north. I have recently come into contact with a group of Rangers who have taken it upon themselves to deal with or attempt to block the intrusion of the north. The races of this realm are worried – with the loss of a Guardian fortress, they do not see the Guardians as the impregnable force they once probably were.” Her green gaze came to rest upon Boar’s features as she said softly, “And I think you know as well as I do that the answer lies with this mysterious Wolf King, who seems to be causing all this current trouble.”

Boar, who had been ready to give the lady a talking-to for her earlier comment, sat in complete silence for a moment. Alixa kicked him under the table again. He coughed a moment to divert suspicion, and frowned in thought before looking at the woman. “I think we might be interested in meeting these friends of yours, if you could arrange it.”

The Lady Dovelin inclined her head slightly. “I believe that might be possible. I think they might have a few questions to ask of you.”

Boar and Alixa rose from the seats they’d taken and headed for the stairs. Boar was satisfied with the brief meeting with the Peacekeeper, and was looking forward to the next morning. Answers would be found in regards to this particular group and that of the Wolf King.

Alixa’s head was pounding a little from the amount of alcohol she had consumed while down in the common room. Part of her wanted to sleep but another part of her was keen to go to the lake shore and get a glimpse of the Island her mother had called home for so long. Finally the curious side of her conscious won out and she pulled her boots back on, wrapped herself up in her cloak and quietly made her way down outside and followed the main street that lead to the fishing jetty where all the boats were tied up for the night.

She could see out in the distance some boats still out on the waters, for the fisherman who preferred to ply their trade by night rather than during the hustle bustle of daylight hours. She walked out to the very edge of the jetty and searched the horizon carefully until she was able to make out the shape of the island. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest as seeing it seemed to bring her mother more to life in her mind than before.

She had been thinking a lot about what Soryn and Boar had said, in regards to a Guardian who was also capable of healing on the battlefield. And she was seriously considering asking the Council if she could undergo the necessary training to do exactly that. To be a Healer and a warrior as Boar had said, those were rare qualities to be had. She nodded her head slightly and turned slowly to start walking back along the jetty, listening to the waters softly lap at the shore.

The Lake of Shimmering was also known as the lake of dreaming. It was thought that the water could hypnotize a person into a state that they might have past or visions of the future. Sometimes the visions where to assist in a future event, and these people who spoke of the visions were called prophets. There had been only a handful of prophets over the years, as not many folk were willing to sit by the lake’s waters and patiently wait. Alixa paused a moment as she was tempted to try it. But she knew that being a Guardian and a healer was far more important right now than being overwhelmed by a prophetic vision. She smiled a little as she gave one final glance over her shoulder at the island before making her slow return to the Inn. Paying a visit to the jetty seemed to settle her inside somehow. It was as if she had been given her last respects to her mother who had died at her birth. She quietly returned to her room in the Inn and gave into much needed sleep finally.

Serraria woke with a start, her head hurting with the sound of pounding drums and images of red eyes and black shapes crossing over the mountains and pouring down into these southern lands. She had had nightmares from time to time but this had seemed real, as if she had been there. Stretching, she got to her feet and dusted off some hay before clambering down the ladder and wandering out of the village barn. She paused a moment before deciding to give into her curiosity and made her way over to the Village’s only Inn.

It was loud and full of patrons. Serraria saw it was late as the moon was high in the sky: soon it would be the early hours of the morning. Pushing the door open she carefully eased her way inside and glanced around. A scrawny man was slumped over his table, snoring away with a half-finished mug of ale clutched in his hand. A serving wench was busy tending to some rowdy customers who kept trying to pinch her rear, much to her consternation. A group of men were sitting in a booth singing out of tune, while a woman in white was deep in conversation with a man and a woman. Serraria took all of this in with a quick glance, and wondered if the kitchen was open. Ambling up to the bar Serraria took note of how some customers asked for their drinks. When it was her turn, she grinned at the woman and stated firmly. “Spiced Wine.”

The woman nodded, and soon set a tall steaming goblet down before the girl. Serraria curled slender fingers around it and sipped quietly, enjoying the taste of the liquid on her tongue. When the woman moved past, Serraria reached out and grabbed her sleeve. “Is the kitchen open?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Got any roast chicken about?” Serraria pulled out a gold coin out of her purse and foolishly tossed it onto the bar counter for all to see. It drew the attention of many; not all with good intentions.

“Yeah.” The woman was distracted by the coin, which she picked up and then hurried out through a side door into the kitchen. A few moments later she returned with what was requested, placing it down before the girl.

“Thank you.” Serraria ripped off a leg and set to work on it. All the while the bar wench stared as this slender young girl greedily consumed the chicken right down to its bones in a matter of minutes, then with a loud belch asked for another one.

Serraria sighed happily after she was full, glancing over at the pile of plates next to her. She leaned back in her seat, and patted her stuffed stomach. It seemed that these people knew how to cook, and being what she was, it took a lot to fill Serraria’s stomach like that. She glanced around and saw the woman in white was sitting by herself now. The other two people who had been talking to her had gone. After a moment Serraria got to her feet and walked over to her table. When the woman looked up at her with a questioning green gaze, Serraria managed a smile before she turned and hurried out the door. Sometimes she lost her courage before she could make contact with someone.

She was in such a hurry she failed to see three shadows follow her through the streets back to the barn until they were right on top of her. A blow to the head sent her pitching forward through the barn doors and down into the hay. She felt strong hands move to restrain her and other hands searching for the pouch of coins she carried. This was not something she was used to, and her warrior instinct surfaced. Lashing out with a booted foot, she sent one robber flying back out of the doors of the barn. One was trying to hold her hands down so she shifted her hands in his grip, to grapple his wrists and yank him forward. Serraria threw him over and into the other robber who was trying to cut her moneybag from her belt. She lashed out at him with a heel to the mouth, breaking his teeth and sending the man slamming backwards into a wooden pole.

With somewhat jerky movements she regained her feet. There was hay stuck in her hair, but she wasn’t too worried about appearances as she stared down the three injured robbers. They struggled wildly to their feet and ran off. Serraria felt the need and urge to leave, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself. Quickly she saddled up her horse and led him out of the stall, riding out into the night. She turned her horses’ head north, making great time as she crossed through fields of wheat and barley, than soon found herself riding through plains that had yet to be touched by man. Before she came upon a village, it was small and quint and it looked like it had been recently built. From where she sat in the saddle of her horse, she noted that what she had thought was untouched plains, was not at all. There were villages scattered about on the Dilbare plains, new and fresh and so the land about had yet to be used to its fullest for farming of crops or herd animals.

But something sat ill with her, as she had to wonder why these people did not seem to be getting too far into their plans, and the answer came that very night as she continued riding north towards the mountains. She witnessed one of the villages get attacked, the people were slaughtered, their buildings burned to the ground and any survivor’s fled to neighboring villages for shelter and to tell their horrible story. But where did this force come from that was causing these people suffering and pain? She decided to follow the re-treating force into the mountains. As she wanted to know where they were coming from, and who was sending them down to the plains to hurt the nice people there.